good back-story, and good acting

I like movies that are aware of what they are selling... without [any] greater aspirations than to make people laugh and that's it.

It's funny watching the elements come together in this complicated scam. On one hand, the set-up isn't quite as complex as it seems, but there's an easy sense of fun in every exchange.

The acting in this movie is really good.

Pros: Watching the film, you get an appreciation for Henri Toulouse-Latrec, the man behind the art. He was of noble birth, but only grew to 4'8", with an adult-sized torso but child-sized legs, because of a childhood accident in combination with a genetic disorder (which was in turn due to his parents being first cousins). In a decision which estranged him from his father, he went to Paris to become a painter, and while he had a circle of acquaintances from frequenting the Moulin Rouge, was desperately lonely, and an alcoholic. Director John Huston does a great job in flashing back to tell the back story.The film is a nice homage to his art as well. We see him creating sketches, paintings, and prints in various settings which give quite a taste of his style, and along the way Huston flashes through two sets of images of Toulouse-Latrec's actual artwork, sequences I enjoyed.José Ferrer turns in a fine performance as Toulouse-Latrec, impressive both physically (since he was 5'10") and also in his artistic intensity, which spilled over into the inevitable emotions coming from being ridiculed, mocked, or pitied as a 'freak'. While a wee bit cloying, I thought the ending was a very nice touch, with the dying Toulouse-Latrec visited by ghostly versions of his bohemian friends from the Moulin Rouge, who say good-bye to him. It seems to fit with the 'world gone by' reminiscence of the Montmartre circa 1890, and offsets the artist's sad death.Cons: Historical accuracy. The artist's life is sanitized and watered down here. In the film, Toulouse-Latrec takes up with a prostitute and has a stormy relationship with her, but always maintains noble feelings and a sense of class. The real Toulouse-Latrec led a much more dissolute lifestyle, spending days at a time in expensive brothels. He had a protracted case of syphilis, which, along with complications from alcoholism, killed him at 37, and the STD is not even alluded to here. Have a look at the used-up, wasted, and dejected look of the women in his work "The Sofa" (1894-96); there is real pathos and a sense of squalor in art such as that, but we don't see that sort of thing in the film.Similarly, the environment of the Moulin Rouge dance hall, as well as the musical numbers performed there, feel 'rated PG', and a far cry from the outrageous, wild, and dangerous place we not only read about, but see in Toulouse-Latrec's work. Huston spent a lot of time on colors and filters and the like, but seems to have missed (or not been able to show because of the production code) the real nature of the place.Zsa Zsa Gabor is awful as a showgirl. She lip synchs a couple of songs and is obviously off more than once. In fact, with the exception of Colette Marchand, none of the other actors comes close to matching Ferrer's performance, and oddly, few attempt a French accent as he does. Bottom line: Many Hollywood depictions (and other historical accounts) are romanticized, so it's not shocking to see that here, especially as the movie is from 1952. I like the attempt to honor the man and his art, but it's particularly unfortunate to romanticize someone like him, and the Moulin Rouge. Worse seeing, but with a grain of salt.

This is a gorgeous Technicolor film which tells the tale of Tolouse Lautrec, admirably portrayed by Jose Ferrar. The atmosphere is perfectly drawn by director John Houston, who recreates the Paris of the late nineteenth-century to a T. Zsa Zsa Gabor, who was quite young and beautiful here does fine in a rather flashy part. The theme song was quite the hit when it charted over here. Special mention must be made of the fine use of Technicolor, which was used in a manner mindful of Lautrec's paintings. The colors are warm and vivid, and everything has a kind-of look as if you just stepped out of a time machine. The beautiful hues aside, this is a film which will entertain by virtue of it's fascinating story alone, and to me, is a far better film than the 2001 feature of the same name. It's not really fair to compare the two, though, as the two films are quite different in story, sharing only the title. A one-of-a-kind film and a rewarding one.

I'm giving John Huston's MOULIN ROUGE a full ten stars even though this "biopic" of French painter Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec plays fast and loose with some of the facts of the painter's life and about the people around him. What little it lacks in accuracy it more than makes up for in artistic quality.This movie may have the most exciting opening sequence of any film in history. Paris, 1890. The film begins with a shot of the exterior of the famed Moulin Rouge, and in a long tracking shot, makes its way inside as if it were one of the patrons. It follows them up the stairs to where the orchestra is playing, across to where some rowdy young men are having a grand time getting loaded, and after keeping us on pins and needles, finally focuses its attention on the club dance floor, where four legendary dancers are performing a form of Can-can style dance featuring lots of dexterity and the ability to do high kicks and splits.The four dancers are La Goulue (Katherine Kath), the Algerian Aicha (Muriel Smith), Valentin Dessosse (Walter Cresham) partnered with La Goulue, and Tutte Lemkow as Aicha's partner, unnamed in the film.La Goulue is clearly the star of this number, in her own mind at least, and she and Aicha detest one another to the point that when Aicha accidentally steps on La Goulue's foot, the two women almost erupt into a full-out brawl but Valentin manages to get between them and the number continues. I can't really describe the number very well, but it is exciting and full of energy.During all this we've seen a few shots of a man seated at one of the tables closest to the floor; at first we see him only from the back, and then we see his hands as he sketches what he is seeing. Finally we get a look at him: Toulouse-Lautrec himself (Jose Ferrer looking almost eerily like the man). As he rapidly sketches the action on the floor, he takes frequent gulps from a glass of cognac despite the admonition of one of the waitresses not to "drink so fast; it burns your stomach." With the first number concluded, some of the patrons go out on the dance floor. Then Chocolat (Rupert John), a short Black man, does a brief soft-shoe, stopping at Lautrec's table and receiving a tip. La Goulue approaches Lautrec and asks if he saw Aicha step on her foot, to which he replies "I saw you kick her in the derriere." And as La Goulue tells him what she will do to Aicha one day, the Algerian sneaks up behind her and returns the kick. Enjoying the spectacle immensely, Lautrec pours each woman a cognac, which naturally they throw in each other's faces, and the catfight is finally on, as Lautrec watches with an expression of unadulterated glee. The fighting stops when Jane Avril (Zsa Zsa Gabor) appears at the top of the stairs to sing the title song. Muriel Smith did double-duty here, supplying Gabor's singing voice. I notice a lot of people criticizing Gabor's lip-synching, but since the usual method is to film the song first and lay the vocal over it later on, if there are slips in the lip-synching they are not Gabor's, but Smith's.Finally the chorus comes out to do the classic Can Can number we all know so well, and the evening is over. Lautrec remains seated until the club is empty, and when he finally stands up we see his deformity: his legs are no longer than a child's.Walking home, he recalls in flashback the injuries that caused his infirmity, and in the midst of his reverie is accosted by a street girl named Marie Charlet (Colette Marchand) who is running from the police and asks Lautrec to vouch for her, which he does.The segment that follows is possibly the film's weak point. Marie Charlet was a fictional character loosely based on several women in Lautrec's life, and as Marchand plays her she is shrill, annoying, and quite unbearable. But she does not appear to be repulsed by Lautrec's deformity, and he falls in love with her for this. Hard to fathom since the character is so annoying. And equally hard to fathom is that Marchand got an Oscar nomination for what was basically a one-note character. I won't reveal more details except to say that eventually he learns she never loved him and was using him as a sugar daddy, a revelation which makes him completely distrustful of love and of women, so that when a woman truly falls for him (the lovely Suzanne Flon), he cannot allow himself to be that vulnerable again.Needless to say the ending is not a happy one, but the film is beautifully shot, the acting superb except for Marchand (Even Zsa Zsa does a better job as the rather silly Jane Avril), and the story, with all its holes, still a compelling one. If it misses greatness, it doesn't miss it by much. In fact the opening sequence alone is worth the price of the ticket.

Huston must have been Technicolor-blinded: the film is awash in garish hues, about the only thing to recommend it. Seen the dancing girls once, you've seen them jump and yelp six or seven times. Dull script (well, Huston didn't have Dashiell Hammett as his foundation), with a flashback sequence that seems slightly ridiculous, with José Ferrer playing Lautrec AND Lautrec's father (see the virtuosity!), leaden pacing, not a single clever line. Lautrec comes across as a bearded brat, pettish and spoiled. The flash-cut sequences showing Lautrec's paintings are jumpy and amateurish and poorly timed--it's hard to believe this is the creator of The Maltese Falcon, Beat The Devil, and Treasure of the Sierra Madre. Painter loses girl, painter loses girl, painter loses girl. Nobody loves him or appreciates him, then he dies. Zsa Zsa Gabor lip-synchs bad songs badly and offers nothing as an actress except a reminder that the era required several Marilyn Monroe facsimiles. I had a difficult time staying awake, and by the time Lautrec finally closed his eyes I had long since done so myself.