Awful.

Rating: 1/10 (1 November 2001)

I lasted about 50 minutes in this movie until Jim Broadbent's leering ginger mug repulsed me so much I had to leave. There is no denying the beauty of the art direction here, but it really is the proverbial purse made from a sow's ear. The script is appalling, the plot paper thin. In the grand tradition of all those terrible puppet shows your parents made you sit through when you were a child, there are characters who exist for no reason other than to add a sort of aural punctuation to the main characters songs and sentences. John Leguizamo's entire dialogue seems to consist of beeps and squeaks at appropriate moments. Then there are the songs...ah yes...the songs. If you want to shake things up a bit and "re-invent" genres, which Luhrman is no doubt trying to do, is dull radio fodder like Elton John really the way to go? The choice of such songs smacked of product placement. Beyond this, add the fact that Ewan Mcgregor cannot sing, Kidman's voice was flat, and both of them gave up trying to act before the movie had even begun, and you have an undeniably excruciating experience.