like a kid fuelled by red cordial...

Rating: 4/10 (3 June 2001)

The first half of this film is a fun, frenetic romp full of hilarious dialogue and cheekiness. This shall be known as 'the good bit'. Then comes the second half. And just like a kid fuelled on red cordial, the buzz ends sooner than you want to, and with Moulin Rouge, crikey did it end. Unfortunately, the buzz ended exactly at the halfway mark. This shall be known as 'the bad bit.' From that moment on, this is some of the most boring film-making in the history of the world. The good bit -- with Ewan in fine form, Nicole doing a lovely job pretending to sing and the cast so brim full of energy you could power a small town on their vibrations -- neatly glosses over the absolute lack of story. Well, the thinnest story imaginable. But as a chorus of suited blokes would sing, "it's not about the story, it's about love and clever use of modern songs in a turn-of-the-century setting". How much that matters is up to you. The comes the bad bit. When the film comes to a grinding halt in the middle, the bit when it decides to try and be a real movie and less of an experience, this is when you should stick knitting needles in your eyes. The life, soul and spirit is sucked out of proceedings harder than something I can't write here but involves one of the many prostitutes in the film. A shame. Moulin Rouge is a red-hot go at a musical, but realises midway through proceedings that it just can't go on, when in fact it should have.