When the critic back in 1952 thought up the line "Monotony in Montmartre" to describe the movie, he couldn't resist using it. It's a smart line, but wide of the mark. John Huston's "Moulin Rouge", the story of Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec, deserves more respect than that.
I have fond memories of this film. My father was an artist who was in charge of the 'front-of-house' display work for the film when it opened at Sydney's Regent Theatre in September 1953. Back then everything was painted and lettered by hand. My father who loved Lautrec's work was also commissioned to duplicate a number of his paintings as part of the promotion for the film. Although I was young at the time, experiences such as that may explain why I also became an artist.
Nostalgia aside, more astute critics of the film noted that the film struggled to keep up the pace after the opening 20 minutes.
So much leaps from the screen as Toulouse-Lautrec is introduced during an evening at the Moulin Rouge in 1890. He sits at a table doing sketches on the table cloth surrounded by frenetic can-can dancers, hair-pulling fights and acrobatic solo routines before a breathtaking Zsa Zsa Gabor descends a staircase to sing one of the most beautiful melodies ever written for the screen, "It's April Again". The whole thing is a kaleidoscope of colour, movement and sound inspired by Lautrec's posters; all this in the first 20 minutes!
When the Moulin Rouge closes for the evening and Lautrec wanders on his crippled legs out into the dark Parisian night, the contrast is stunning, and that is exactly the effect I think Huston wanted to create, the Moulin Rouge was the spice of life for Lautrec; the outside world was harsh reality: loneliness, rejection and despair.
No film about artists combines their story with their art as perfectly as this one does. The screen is filled with Lautrec's paintings and some of the settings for them are recreated. Huston obviously loved his subject's work and it is easy to see why. Lautrec captured life on the fly; his work had immediacy, no laboured slogs in the studio like many of the salon painters of his day.
The film traces a number of his affairs. Jose Ferrer achieves an honesty here that is painful to watch, and he suffered with those strapped up legs. He projects the feeling that he is constantly on guard against rejection although he can't help being as obsessive about his love affairs as he is about his art.
The script is full of insight and wit. I read Pierre La Mure's book years ago and I can't remember how much was sourced from there, but Huston was a brilliant writer, and I can see his touch in much of the dialogue.
Huston was one of the great storytellers. I always ranked him just after John Ford. I haven't changed that opinion much over the years, and this film is one of the reasons why.
I have fond memories of this film. My father was an artist who was in charge of the 'front-of-house' display work for the film when it opened at Sydney's Regent Theatre in September 1953. Back then everything was painted and lettered by hand. My father who loved Lautrec's work was also commissioned to duplicate a number of his paintings as part of the promotion for the film. Although I was young at the time, experiences such as that may explain why I also became an artist.
Nostalgia aside, more astute critics of the film noted that the film struggled to keep up the pace after the opening 20 minutes.
So much leaps from the screen as Toulouse-Lautrec is introduced during an evening at the Moulin Rouge in 1890. He sits at a table doing sketches on the table cloth surrounded by frenetic can-can dancers, hair-pulling fights and acrobatic solo routines before a breathtaking Zsa Zsa Gabor descends a staircase to sing one of the most beautiful melodies ever written for the screen, "It's April Again". The whole thing is a kaleidoscope of colour, movement and sound inspired by Lautrec's posters; all this in the first 20 minutes!
When the Moulin Rouge closes for the evening and Lautrec wanders on his crippled legs out into the dark Parisian night, the contrast is stunning, and that is exactly the effect I think Huston wanted to create, the Moulin Rouge was the spice of life for Lautrec; the outside world was harsh reality: loneliness, rejection and despair.
No film about artists combines their story with their art as perfectly as this one does. The screen is filled with Lautrec's paintings and some of the settings for them are recreated. Huston obviously loved his subject's work and it is easy to see why. Lautrec captured life on the fly; his work had immediacy, no laboured slogs in the studio like many of the salon painters of his day.
The film traces a number of his affairs. Jose Ferrer achieves an honesty here that is painful to watch, and he suffered with those strapped up legs. He projects the feeling that he is constantly on guard against rejection although he can't help being as obsessive about his love affairs as he is about his art.
The script is full of insight and wit. I read Pierre La Mure's book years ago and I can't remember how much was sourced from there, but Huston was a brilliant writer, and I can see his touch in much of the dialogue.
Huston was one of the great storytellers. I always ranked him just after John Ford. I haven't changed that opinion much over the years, and this film is one of the reasons why.