The vivid, vibrant, highly graphic strokes and style of French impressionist Toulouse-Lautrec was inspired by the colorful night life of the Montmartre district of Paris -- the circuses, the brothels(!), but notably the Moulin Rouge cabaret which he frequented often and became a routine host to an elite, partygoing bunch of artistic intellects and deviants. Were he alive today, he could very well have been reinspired by this ambitious recreation of the Moulin Rouge 100 years later. A mammoth, toyingly libidinous piece of escapism to be certain, the painter would simply revel in the outre, over-the-top, visually assaultive mind of its creator writer/director Baz Luhrmann.
I, too, was quite bowled over by this "everything but the kitchen sink" extravaganza, although not always as ecstatically as I would have wanted to be, but certainly enough to appreciate the intentions of this masterful deluge of gaudy Gallic grandeur circa 1899.
Refreshingly original (the previews had me fooled), what did NOT race through my categorical mind while experiencing this film! In its initial stage, the love story seemed to borrow its concept directly from Christopher Isherwood's "Berlin Stories," specifically the Sally Bowles "Cabaret"-inspired chapter in which a naive, struggling writer recalls (via his typewriter) his doomed love affair with a capricious entertainer who got caught up in the phony glitz and decadent glamour around her. But from then on, it was anybody's guess. A potpourri of other musical shows and films flashed through my mind --from the typical (Jose Ferrer's "Moulin Rouge," "Can-Can," "Les Girls," "An American in Paris") to the more imaginative and surreal ("Sergeant Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band," "Blade Runner," "Fellini Satyricon," Fosse's "All That Jazz," the phantasmagorical "Yellow Submarine", anything Gilbert & Sullivan-ish, and Disney's "Aladdin"). Don't even ask me why on some of these.
Nicole Kidman's Satine could have easily been based on the life of the indelible French star Renee Adoree, a one-time circus performer who became a Folies Bergere dancer. She subsequently was ushered to Hollywood and illuminated one classic love story, "The Big Parade" with John Gilbert, that remains a silent screen treasure. A frail beauty, Renee died in her mid-30s of tuberculosis/consumption.
Once the incessant battering by the camera's eye took a breather and I was allowed to actually focus on something tangible -- like the love story -- I found the enticing, highly photogenic Kidman, coupled with Ewan McGregor's honest-guy Christian, to be quite affecting as a pair, even moving. And that wasn't easy. The visual bombardment and gimmicky use of modern songs constantly threaten to isolate the viewer from the film's emotional core. Fortunately, it did not succeed.
Speaking of, the use of contemporary pop and classic rock songs worked better at the beginning when it was a novelty but, of course, the pattern eventually wore out its welcome as I started spending my time ingenously thinking about what next classic hit should be used for the present scene -- much like the so-so musical "Mamma Mia!" wherein a series of Abba songs are thrown together (very weakly) to create a ridiculous storyline. I thought the "Material Girl" number (despite the engaging presence of Jim Broadbent's bombastic impresario, Zidler, and Richard Roxburgh's oily villain, the Duke of Worchester) was stretching a potential good idea too far. However, Kidman's breathy song stylings and, especially, McGregor's sturdy pop tenor handled the love songs quite effectively.
As for the handling of simple little love stories, however, I sincerely hope Luhrmann doesn't get any ideas by setting his sights on a remake of "The Fantasticks." I don't think the fragile little story could take it!
I, too, was quite bowled over by this "everything but the kitchen sink" extravaganza, although not always as ecstatically as I would have wanted to be, but certainly enough to appreciate the intentions of this masterful deluge of gaudy Gallic grandeur circa 1899.
Refreshingly original (the previews had me fooled), what did NOT race through my categorical mind while experiencing this film! In its initial stage, the love story seemed to borrow its concept directly from Christopher Isherwood's "Berlin Stories," specifically the Sally Bowles "Cabaret"-inspired chapter in which a naive, struggling writer recalls (via his typewriter) his doomed love affair with a capricious entertainer who got caught up in the phony glitz and decadent glamour around her. But from then on, it was anybody's guess. A potpourri of other musical shows and films flashed through my mind --from the typical (Jose Ferrer's "Moulin Rouge," "Can-Can," "Les Girls," "An American in Paris") to the more imaginative and surreal ("Sergeant Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band," "Blade Runner," "Fellini Satyricon," Fosse's "All That Jazz," the phantasmagorical "Yellow Submarine", anything Gilbert & Sullivan-ish, and Disney's "Aladdin"). Don't even ask me why on some of these.
Nicole Kidman's Satine could have easily been based on the life of the indelible French star Renee Adoree, a one-time circus performer who became a Folies Bergere dancer. She subsequently was ushered to Hollywood and illuminated one classic love story, "The Big Parade" with John Gilbert, that remains a silent screen treasure. A frail beauty, Renee died in her mid-30s of tuberculosis/consumption.
Once the incessant battering by the camera's eye took a breather and I was allowed to actually focus on something tangible -- like the love story -- I found the enticing, highly photogenic Kidman, coupled with Ewan McGregor's honest-guy Christian, to be quite affecting as a pair, even moving. And that wasn't easy. The visual bombardment and gimmicky use of modern songs constantly threaten to isolate the viewer from the film's emotional core. Fortunately, it did not succeed.
Speaking of, the use of contemporary pop and classic rock songs worked better at the beginning when it was a novelty but, of course, the pattern eventually wore out its welcome as I started spending my time ingenously thinking about what next classic hit should be used for the present scene -- much like the so-so musical "Mamma Mia!" wherein a series of Abba songs are thrown together (very weakly) to create a ridiculous storyline. I thought the "Material Girl" number (despite the engaging presence of Jim Broadbent's bombastic impresario, Zidler, and Richard Roxburgh's oily villain, the Duke of Worchester) was stretching a potential good idea too far. However, Kidman's breathy song stylings and, especially, McGregor's sturdy pop tenor handled the love songs quite effectively.
As for the handling of simple little love stories, however, I sincerely hope Luhrmann doesn't get any ideas by setting his sights on a remake of "The Fantasticks." I don't think the fragile little story could take it!