Welcome, boys and girls, to two hours of wormwood extract hell. Baz Luhrman's latest extravaganza is set in the demimondaine underworld of Paris in 1899. It's a place of pimps, prostitutes, guys looking for a good time and the dwarf artist Toulouse-Latrec, with headquarters being the Moulin Rouge nightclub.

Into this pit arrives fresh, young, wannabe bohemian Christian (Ewan McGregor), just off the train from England. Very soon he falls into the company of fellow, let's-be-artists Toulouse-Latrec (John Leguzamo), a narcoleptic Argentinian, and others. When they take him to the Moulin Rouge, he sees the beauteous Satine (Nicole Kidman), flame-haired and cold-hearted, whose only interest in a man is how much he can give her. The third side to the triangle is a jealous, lisping Duke ( ), who wants Satine all to himself. Will diamonds or true love prevail?

Heck, this is a romance, what do you think?

Is it a good movie?

Well, yes and no.

Let's get the garbage out of the way first:
It's splashy, over the top, scenery chewing musical. That's right, the wretched musical, beloved of Disney and other films for children, is back in this one, but with a tawdry, color soaked overload that leaves headaches in its wake. People are constantly breaking out into soppy, silly love songs all over the place, and by the third tune both me and the SO were ready to fling our drinks at the screen and leave.

Parts of the film were simply too much, jerking and lurching about in mock kineticscope fashion that induced motion sickness more than anything else. Nicole Kidman was just a bit too over the top when she's rolling about in black net lingerie; and when she should have been inducing passion, she was inducing yawns. The Duke was bleah, the only thing to recommend him was his money, but then, what else can you say about a man who has to buy his women? By the end of this one, I was ready to leave.

The good stuff:
The tango sequence, with all of the fire and passion that it ought to have, with the decadence that needs to go with it. Done to the Police's Roxanne, it's a showstopper, along with Ewan McGregor's performance and singing voice. Oh boy, can he sing and be believable. In fact, he was the only thing that kept me in my seat and staying to the very end; he's very believable as the innocent Christian. The sets and artistic direction throughout, creating a Paris of dreams, grimy, tawdry, like gilt over rotten lumber.

So here's the bottom line: it's too much MTV, wannabe artiste-director cramming too much into the time allowed, too loud, and over the top. It's good in parts, but I'd suggest waiting for the video, or better yet, the DVD, and then you can fast forward through the bad bits.

Shots of women's underwear. Modern hip hop. Really stupid, but funny, rendition of Madonna's Like a Virgin by the villans. Despite the topic and locale, no sex, but plenty of induendo. Good costumes and production values. Choppy, lurching cameras everywhere.

You want the feel of Paris at the turn of the century, I would suggest a bottle of Absinthe and a few cigars. You won't have as much of a headache as this one will leave you.






Recommended:
No

Suitability For Children: Suitable for Children Age 13 and Older