Set in northern Australia before World War II, an English aristocrat who inherits a sprawling ranch reluctantly pacts with a stock-man in order to protect her new property from a takeover plot. As the pair drive 2,000 head of cattle over unforgiving landscape, they experience the bombing of Darwin, Australia, by Japanese forces firsthand.
In 19th-century France, Jean Valjean, who for decades has been hunted by the ruthless policeman Javert after breaking parole, agrees to care for a factory worker's daughter. The decision changes their lives for ever.
The year is 1899, and Christian, a young English writer, has come to Paris to follow the Bohemian revolution taking hold of the city's drug and prostitute infested underworld. And nowhere is the thrill of the underworld more alive than at the Moulin Rouge, a night club where the rich and poor men alike come to be entertained by the dancers, but things take a wicked turn for Christian as he starts a deadly love affair with the star courtesan of the club, Satine. But her affections are also coveted by the club's patron: the Duke. A dangerous love triangle ensues as Satine and Christian attempt to fight all odds to stay together but a force that not even love can conquer is taking its toll on Satine... Written by
The ending credits are printed on two (very long) hand painted rolls of paper. The camera is still while the paper is scrolled past. The place where the two pieces are joined is clearly visible. The crew tried to hide the splice, but couldn't make it look good enough, and so decided to keep it as seen in the movie. See more »
In a way, Moulin Rouge typifies everything that's wrong with American cinema by bastardizing everything that's right with its European counterpart. Visually, the movie is a great reference for any commercial or video director. But unlike a music video that lasts only three minutes, Moulin Rouge begins with a visual volume worthy of Spinal Tap and tries to sustain it for 120 minutes. It doesn't work. The rule of dynamics applies as much to a pretentious musical as it does to an ambitious action film. If the volume is too loud, you simply can't hear anything. Everything gets lost in Moulin Rouge's hurricane of desperate art direction and production design. The film's leads, talented actors though they may be, simply aren't charismatic enough to compete. The movie requires posturing, not acting. And, frankly, there are no less charismatic actors than Ewan McGregor and Nicole Kidman. In fact, their appeal is in their pastiness, not in their screen presence. What's more, the music can't compete either. Great songs are dwarfed by the never-ending onslaught of CGI visuals, which, after a while, become tedious. We get it, already. The moral of this story is that you still need one to make a good movie. Nothing can replace pen and paper. Unglamorous though it may be, a good script is everything. The filmmaker's previous effort with Romeo And Juliet worked precisely because he had a great script to begin with. The production design was icing on the cake. With Moulin Rouge, icing is all there is, and a satisfying meal it does not make.
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