I added Moulin Rouge to my roster because of the reference Lorelai makes to Zsa Zsa Gabor in S1, E1- the Pilot. Sookie asks Lorelai where her pate is, and Lorelai responds, "At Zsa Zsa Gabor's house." Having never seen a Zsa Zsa film before, I began searching the wild and wonderful interwebs. It became immediately clear that I would be in for a cheese-alicious treat. After reading several synopsis' (or is it synopsi?), I settled on two films: The Queen of Outer Space, and Moulin Rouge.
The Queen of Outer Space looks absolutely awful, but in a great B-movie kinda way, so it was my first choice. Moulin Rouge, being the story of Toulouse-Lautrec, appealed to the artist in me. I requested both films from the library, and decided to go with whichever arrived first. Moulin Rouge was the winner. Hooray.
Watching Moulin Rouge I found myself reminiscing of Mystery Science Theater 3000. If you haven't ever seen MST3000- though my brain can't comprehend a world where that's possible- it's essentially a TV show that revolves around a dude and his robot buddies watching the world's worst movies...in space. Together they mercilessly make fun of these movies, which are typically so bad they're kinda good. Moulin Rouge fits nicely into this genre, so I'll use my own extremely limited public forum to mock it.
Moulin Rouge was released in 1952. It was directed by John Huston and stars Jose Ferrer as the over-acting, super-serious, Frankenstein-stiff Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec. Zsa Zsa Gabor is listed as "Starring", but she in fact has an incredibly small role. The film attempts to tell the story of Lautrec's adult life, immersed in the bohemian Sub-culture of Paris, in and around the Moulin Rouge nightclub. I didn't know much about this artist, so I figured it would be fun to watch this flick just from an artist's point of view. Little did I know the train wreck I was in for.
Apparently the film opened to critical and box-office success, but I gotta tell y'all, I don't get it.
Paris, 1890. Crowds of well-dressed hoodlums make their way into the Moulin Rouge nightclub. Two crazy-ass dancing girls take center stage. By center stage, I mean the entire fucking room; and by crazy-ass, I mean butt-fucking ugly, wild banshees. I enjoy burlesque, but I don't claim to know a ton about it. I think those are the exact words the director muttered before telling the make-up people what to do. And the costume people. And the set-designers, actors, cameramen... Every single dancer looks as if they are made-up as zombie-clowns for Halloween. If everyone in the Thriller video did a bunch of LSD, then picked out their own costumes and did their own make-up, they still would have looked better than the actors in Moulin Rouge.
Adding to the creep-out factor is the wide-eyed weirdo with a ridiculously over-the-top hook nose designed to serve as the literal inspiration for a figure in one of Lautrec's famous posters.
Henri is sketching and drinking...a lot. In one of my favorite exchanges in the film, Henri and a waitress have the following conversation:
W: Drinking too fast burns your stomach.
H: I'm thirsty.
W: Wine is for thirst.
H: Glad you didn't say water. Water is for Americans.
Henri goes on to add that while some men are good at things like swinging from the flying trapeze, he is good at drinking cognac. Maurice Joyant, the club owner, comments that the sketch would make a great poster, and offers Henri free drinks for a month for it. Jane Avril, played by Zsa Zsa, makes her first appearance here. She's portrayed as a slutty singer looking for love in a rich-dude package. She sings a never-ending song adorned in a sliced truffle hat with pom-poms that would make Pennywise the clown say, "Damn!"
This song made me need to listen to lots of great music immediately to cleanse my defiled eardrums.
It won't end.
Still going.
Holy shit.
"I'd rather...slide down a banister made of razorblades, into a pool of alcohol, than..." continue listening to this song.
Fortunately Zsa Zsa is gorgeous and I love her accent. Probably my favorite line in the entire film comes from her when she says to Lautrec, " Oh Henri, why couldn't you be tall and handsome?"
The dudes in the club continue to be whipped into a frenzy by the high-steppin', lower-leg twitchin', petti-coats showin', hootin-n-a-hollerin, clown-faced chicks. One fella is blowin' kisses like a mofo, so frantically his head seems about to burst.
After the club closes and the crowds disperse, Henri stands to reveal his 4'6" stature. He limps with a cane as he exits. On his walk home, a somewhat confusing flashback sequence crappily attempts to explain how Henri came to be in his present condition. Henri's father explains to little-boy Henri why the Lautrec's are so fricking awesome. Through a cheesy montage, we see that Henri loves to draw, and that he and his pops are buddies.
One day Henri rushes to greet his dad as he's returning home...and he falls down the stairs in one of the worst stunt scenes of all time. Ed Wood would have re-shot this crap. C'mon!
It is revealed- in the most confusing way possible- that Henri's bones won't heel properly because of a genetic condition resulting from his parents being first cousins. This may shock some of the more squeamish viewers out there, but I'm from central Ohio folks. This shit is par for the course! Pop leaves Moms because he doesn't want to be tempted to create any more little Henri's or Henrietta's.
Henri retreats into his art. He also continues to spend time with his childhood friend, a young girl he used to ride horses with. This prize peach of a human being later beats Henri down by not only refusing his proposal, but calling him an "ugly little monster", and claiming that no woman will ever want him. He eventually heads off to Paris in despair, to be a painter.
How cool would it be to have the option of running off to Paris to be a painter? Answer: Very fucking cool!
Back to the present day. Marie Charlet, a Paris streetwalker latches on to Henri after he rescues her from a police man by pretending to be her guardian. Back at Henri's place, Marie immediately pisses Henri off by talking straightforwardly about his short stature. She then orgasm's at the thought of using his bathtub. Henri is such a lonely bastard that he falls hopelessly in love with her before their first meeting is ended.
Marie plays him like a dime-store fiddle, wrangling cash and clothes until she calls him a freak one too many times and storms out. Henri pulls up his big-boy britches, gathers the tattered remains of his self-respect, and refuses to let Marie in when she comes crawling back. He then falls into a deep depression and wastes away on booze and total isolation.
Eventually Henri's mommy comes to give him the worst advice of all time...go find Marie and bring her back. Lautrec tracks her down in a slum bar, where she admits to not only playing him, but to bringing the money back to her pimp/boyfriend. Winner, winner, chicken dinner! Since that bombshell wasn't harsh enough, she adds salt to the wound by telling Henri that his touch sickened her.
Newly devastated, Lautrec heads home, locks the doors and turns on the gas. In a fit of suicidal inspiration, he begins working on his Moulin Rouge painting again. Indifferently, he turns off the gas between brush strokes.
The Moulin Rouge owner loves the painting, so Lautrec begins work on the poster. In what I found to be the most interesting part of the flick, Henri mixes the inks himself at the printers, because they couldn't match his vivid colors.
After the posters are hung, the Moulin Rouge begins to attract a more sophisticated crowd. I have to admit that I'm curious about the historical accuracy of this bit....not enough so to do anything about it, but whatever. Even the crazy-ass dancers/brawlers become sophisticated in their own backwards way. For a while this seems to be great, but ultimately the freaks and misfits who made the club great no longer...well....fit in. Nearly all the old-school crowd, including the club owner, are bummed. Only Zsa Zsa is happy about this turn of events, feeling she is finally getting the attention she deserves. Thus we are treated to another excruciatingly lengthy tune from her. Yay.
Over the next ten years Lautrec and the club become increasingly popular, but Henri is lonely and constantly in pain. His pops denounces him as a pornographer. He tells the old man that he knows more about work than his dad, because his dad was a spoiled rich bitch who never had to work. He adds that he drink a bit more each day to forget the loneliness, ugliness and pain of his life.
One night Henri runs into a woman who looks as if she is about to throw herself into the Siene River. He attempts to dissuade her but she curtly promises she's not going to jump.
Later, at an exhibit of Henri's work, a woman is denouncing a painting as pornographic because a woman is depicted undressing in the presence of a man. Henri stumbles in drunkenly, informs his critique that the woman is in fact DRESSING in the presence of her husband, and shame on her for having her mind in the gutter. "I'll thank you to stop looking at my paintings." Best line in the movie.
Zsa Zsa later introduces Henri to the jumper- Myriamme Hyam (hereafter referred to as MH because I don't fancy typing Myriamme fifteen more times). Lautrec and MH begin to spend time together. Henri keeps her at a distance because he doesn't believe any woman can ever love him. At one point he drops this jewel of wisdom on her, "A wise woman never gives her love- she only lends it." He also tells her that one should never meet someone whose work they admire, because they can never live up to it.
Eventually MH tells Henri the story of why she was on the banks of the Siene that night. She was the mistress of some dude who I didn't care to take note of. She was throwing his key into the river, vowing to never see him again unless he left his wife. Ultimately he does leave his wife, and proposes to MH. She confronts Henri, all but admitting her love, and trying desperately to get him to admit that he loves her too. Henri refuses to admit it, comparing himself to the trained monkeys Spanish woman had by their sides, and stating that she had such control over the other dude that she could proclaim she loved mustache's and he would grow one, then claim she hated them and he would shave it off.
MH is crushed. She runs off to marry the other dude before Lautrec comes to his senses.
Henri sinks into the deepest depression yet, delving into Absynth until he collapses down another set of steps. Unable to heal from his wounds, he dies at his parents home, where his father admits he was wrong, and ghosts of the Moulin Rouge dancers and patrons whisp in to say goodbye.
Finally. It's over.
I am awarding Moulin Rouge 1 Gold Pippi Coin, which equals pure crap. The worst part of this flick wasn't how bad it was. The worst was the fact that it was really, really, REALLY bad- but still not the worst I've ever seen. Not even in the top twenty. Moulin Rouge was essentially a highly forgettable, uninspired let-down of a film. I'd love to see a really well-done film version of Lautrec's life. Anybody know of one I could check out?
Thanks for joining me for the another edition of Dean’s Black, White & Read Nights! Hope you’ll tell your friends and come back again! If you'd like to leave me some feedback or ask questions, email me at LukesJamHands@gmail.com.
Next up….Rosemary’s Baby. (BTW...I originally stated that my second post would be my review of Rosemary's Baby, thus proving once again what a dumbass I am.)
