Moulin Rouge... Minus Ewan McGregor & Nicole Kidman

Moulin Rouge, starring Ewan McGregor and Nicole Kidman, is another one of my all-time favorite movies (whenever I hear Christian say,"The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return," big, fat tears immediately begin to well up in my eyes), so when my art history professor announced that the movie of the week for our art history film festival was going to be the 1952 version of Moulin Rouge, I knew I had to go see it.


I had NO IDEA that the 50's version was completely different from the McGregor and Kidman version that I loved so much.

Maybe running on an extra-large side of greasy tater tots, a not-so-tasty omelette from Canyon Vista, a whole lot of sugar and caffeine, and just a little more than two hours of sleep had something to do with it, but I unconsciously nodded off about halfway through the screening of Moulin Rouge and woke up feeling completely disorientated, but just in time to see Lautrec lose what could have very well been the love of his life, drink himself into a crazy stupor, and die on his deathbed.

I rarely ever fall asleep during movies, and I always walk into a theater with an open mind, but even when I was completely awake and alert during the first half of the movie, I just could not get myself to enjoy this movie. And I usually love old classics!

This version of Moulin Rouge won all sorts of awards back in its day, but I honestly could not see what was so great about it. Maybe it got significantly better during the second half that I slept through? I seriously doubt it though.

The scene where Lautrec walked toward the table in the outdoor cafe where a bunch of his artist friends were sitting and chatting was interesting because I recognized the names of artists we were studying in class being mentioned, but aside from that little tidbit, the scene itself was pretty dull, just like the rest of the movie.

The can-can dancers at the Moulin Rouge also kind of bothered me - the way their legs were spinning and twirling almost independently of the rest of their bodies and their screeching yelps as they danced made me feel very uneasy.

While I felt pretty indifferently about the movie (or what I saw of it) as a whole, the first love interest of Lautrec, the street-bum Marie, really pissed me off; I hated her accent, her whiny attitude, and how she basically ruined Lautrec's life by pretending to accept him for who he was and even feign loving him just for his money.

Damn uncultured gold-digger!

My roommate saw the movie with me and she claimed the plot was actually pretty interesting. Since she didn't fall asleep, I'll take her word for it. Maybe I'll give watching this movie another try one day, preferably a day after I get a good night's sleep.