I know we've all talked about this movie many times, and I hardly need to sing its praises to any of you. And as much as I've always loved the film, I'm sure it's largely due to the fact that I haven't slept since getting up on Thursday morning that, having happened to catch the last half-plus on cable, I found myself in the last scene with tears pouring down my face.

But (and if anyone HASN'T seen it, stop reading now) I just love that moment when poor broken Doug Hastings finally snaps and stands up for himself, and desperately pleads with Scott not to lose the opportunity he lost when Barry Fife persuades Shirley to dance with Les at the Pan Pacific Grand Prix. And there's Shirley still shrilly abusing him, defending herself and her actions from all those years ago, and Doug finally tells her what he never told her before -- that she should have stuck with him for better or worse, and danced the way they wanted to instead of the way others wanted them to dance. Doug is so broken, and he's been so wronged, so abused, and he's been waiting his whole wasted life for this one moment of courage and defiance, to beg his son not to live in fear.

And then again, when Scott and Fran are dancing, and the music cuts out and Barry Fife calls on them to leave the dance floor, and then there's that moment when it looks as if we're going to get the cliche of the Slowly Building Applause, as some one person in the crowd starts slowly, deliberately clapping. But no, it's Doug, and he isn't applauding, he's setting a rhythm, in defiance of Barry Fife, supporting Scott and Fran.

And then, for the first time in decades, Doug asks Shirley to dance with him, and there they are, the aging, tragic champions, dancing just to dance.

And I love these characters, their sad history, their struggles and imperfect relationships, and their eventual moment of triumph and redemption. And that is why Moulin Rouge! isn't fit to untie this film's sandals, because for all its razzle-dazzle and lip service to Truth and Beauty and Love, Christian and Satine and all the rest of them are cardboard cutouts compared to the flesh and blood characters this film is about.

k i'm gonna go get some sleep now.

Amen amen amen.

I worked at a video store when SB was released and we received a VHS screener in the promotion package. I watched it, promptly claimed the screener for myself, showed it to my parents who loved it, later showed it to my wife who also fell in love with the movie, then recently bought the widescreen version on DVD.

Same thing happened with Fearless (and thus began my Peter Weir admiration). But sadly, there is no widescreen version of it on DVD yet.
Now that makes me cry.

Well then, maybe I am wrong.

I just don't see it.

Dan, do you actually care about the characters in Moulin Rouge!? Or do you enjoy it more on the level of bravura moviemaking? (No argument here... I'm just asking.)

I connect a good deal to Christian. Especially the Roxanne scene. And since the movie is told from his perspective I find the pace, be it frantic, romantic or comical (as it shifts gears) is a connection to Christian's psyche.

Letrec (spelling?) - the midget character - gets lost in the shuffle a bit. There's a moment where we see him crying and if we're supposed to be able to get it, there's a major narrative gap. (probably a deleted scene) But Christian I get, in a big way.

I agree with Dan. I think Strictly Ballroom is great (heck, I even like Baz's Romeo + Juliet), but Moulin Rouge is the masterpiece. And I completely understand Christian. He's the most complete character in the film, and yes, the "Roxanne" scene. Brilliant.

Actually, I was choked that Ewan McGregor didn't get a nomination for Moulin Rouge. Easily one of my favorite roles in the last 5 years. (And who knew that Obi-Wan could sing?!)

I think they're both masterpieces. Strictly Ballroom is strong in its small-scale power and simplicity. Moulin Rouge is equally strong in its ambition, and the way that its simple backbone holds up under the weight of so much artifice. I do connect with the Moulin Rouge characters, especially Christian, and yet I never lose sight of the fact that the film is saying so much on so many levels... about art, about love, about the cosmic struggle of good and evil. For me Moulin Rouge is the greater achievement, but few romances achieve so much with so little as Strictly Ballroom.

I haven't seen SB, but I'll agree with Steven that the characters in MR are difficult for me to regard with mature empathy. Sure, of course we'd like to see both Satine and Christian happy and together, though intimations that we are witnessing a tragedy temper those desires. But I can't buy fully into the tragic nature of the story and the attendant emotions because the film's tone is so mock-farce, so wrapped up in spectacle for spectacle's sake, so cooly ironic and love in the age of postmodern consumption that I can't keep oscillating between the sneer and leer moments and the love is all you need moments. I get too dizzy. And that dizziness is above and beyond the whip-pan cinematography and frenzied editing...

The fast editing works for me. I think it perfectly captures the passion and emotionally supercharged feeling of a repressed youth diving into garish culture and at the same time finding a love unlike any he'd known before.

It's not a gimmick its a stylistic effort that works on so many levels. The various shifts from farse to tragedy to romance to follies show speak to the timelessness of the story. It could work anywhere at any time. The pop music makes a strong point about the soundtrack we've all been living our lives to. We immerse ourselves in the language of love, but what I find interesting is that people who love the songs in the film were Christian's age when they loved them.

For my money it's a feast for the eyes and the soul. And at the end I am always truly satisfied.

Russell, your analysis expresses exactly my own feelings.

Dan, you talk about the "passion and emotionally supercharged feeling of a repressed youth diving into garish culture and at the same time finding a love unlike any he'd known before," but

a. if Christian was ever repressed, I didn't see it; I don't know anything about his upbringing or home life as I do Scott Hastings', which I'm afraid leaves me relating to Christian more as an icon or an idea than a flesh-and-blood character; and

b. ditto his "love unlike anything he'd known before," which as far as I can tell isn't developed with anything kind of real human dimension...? Right? I mean, he basically falls in love with her for no reason at all, without knowing the first thing about her, right?

Am I just really naive about how differently people watch this movie, or are you seeing the same things I am but loving it anyway, possibly for reasons I haven't glommed to yet?

My experience with the film suggests that people with a significant background in musical theater are more likely to not be put off by what puts us off the film, SDG. Perhaps they are more acclimated to the juxtaposition of mock, over-the-top emoting and dramatic tragedy which characterizes some contemporary stage musicals. Dunno.

So, what took sleep from you? A writing deadline or flight schedule imbroglio? BTW, be glad you didn't catch half of MR instead. Fatigued synapses + visual overstimulation = a state of deep whooping and colliding with walls.

Russell, that is a provocative and very interesting insight. Other thoughts, anyone?

FWIW, I tend to prefer musicals that trade more in quasi-realistic characters and emotions than stylized stage behavior in which relationships and motivations are taken for granted for the sake of the show. But I guess I can understand someone else having a different experience.

All my lost sleep is for the same reason: I'm writing. In this case it was my Troy review.

I've also been, um, preparing materials for a couple of film-related job applications. One went out last week, and one went out today (I was up again last night). If there's ever anything to report, all-y'all will be among the first to know.

I love Strictly Ballroom.

Moulin Rouge! is one of my favorite films of all time.

Baz Luhrman creates a testimonial to all that exists in the realm of the arts—acting, dancing, singing, painting, costuming, playing—the vitality and passion, the juxtaposition of theatre to film and of film to theatre, combining and entwining the mediums to such a grand extent that I am overwhelmed with a near rapturous delight every time I watch it. Every time I laugh out loud. Every time I weep. Every single time I am transported like a child by the wondrous workings of Luhrman’s imagination and his stunning prowess as composer, author, director and artist.

The fact that every scene of the film foreshadows the finale, that it’s truly a play within a play within a movie…and that it’s at once maudlin and poignant, classical and modern, is just another facet of this sparkling diamond.

Example: For me, the final scene which begins with Christian re-entering the Rouge is one of the most amazingly conducted sequences ever put to film. Not directed: conducted. If one watches it in the way they might observe a movement in the culmination of a symphony of many players, this scene has such ebb and flow of emotion, pathos and humor as to leave the viewer overwhelmed by the scope of it all—from the outpouring of Satine’s begging Christian to ‘come back to me…and forgive everything’ into the whispered ‘I love you’ in the silence of the packed theatre, where every soul strains to capture and hold what she offers to only one man…and that man is ensnared and held fast by her ‘til the end of time’—and through the beauty of film we find him immediately before us, torn, helpless, and drawn to return his answer ‘Come what may,’ and rising and ascending the tenebrous lyrical strand which binds them, their reassurance of truth, of fidelity, of love in the face of adversity—the underlying score which reassures us as well that hope springs eternal—and then, the onscreen audience all, as one, turning in the seats to be surprised, moved, shattered as Christian returns, swept up in what they believe is all part of the same act they’ve paid to see…until they find themselves before one another, harmonious, triumphant, all obstacles overcome--

Save one.

See, I’ve known that gasp, that hush, that thrall--onstage and off. That wonderful symbiosis when the room is shared by an audience of one accord, breathing with me, searching me--and I, in return, sharing everything of myself that they might vicariously open doors they'd closed long ago, or experience a life they hadn't known. And this film, to encapsulate these perfectly throughout, that it does not become contrived with age, the veneer does not dull, and the quickening of heart does not fade—

This is truly a great Art, one that I am personally and irrevocably moved to love.

But I’m an actor. I grew up in the theatre. Around dancers. Musicians. Composers. My view of the arts is utterly subjective to the fact it’s my very blood, that I am willing—more than willing, yearning—to leap headlong into the world he creates here. And it’s a world I already know, filled with songs that have significance to the music of theatre, film and pop music as well.

I’m rambling—but even thinking on it brings that same swell of beauty to me, that fullness of appreciation. I love this movie because it celebrates everything that is helplessly flawed about humanity, revels in our strivings to overthrow the bounds of mortality and circumstance in our efforts to create things of beauty, to recognize moments of vast splendour and miracle—

And to love, and to be loved.



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Come to think of it, Bortz, you were born to be in a Baz movie.

Just not Alexander the Great.

Thank goodness.