MOULIN ROUGE (74)

Directed by: John Huston (1952)

Starring: Jose Ferrer, Colette Marchand, Zsa Zsa Gabor, Katherine Kath

The Pitch: Episodes in the life of Toulouse Lautrec, the Impressionist painter - physically stunted by a childhood accident - famous for his portraits of louche Parisian life of the 1890s.

Theo Sez: "Sentimental mush," scoffed Pauline Kael, but I'm not so sure : sentimentality tries to prettify a sad situation whereas this is basically the tale of a bitter cripple who despised himself, and threw away any chance of happiness as a result (while all around him exploded in vibrant Technicolor). It's a rich, almost rancid stew of feelings, ranging from the sickly sweetness of self-pity to the much tarter, uncompromised asperity of self-loathing to a certain stubborn dignity, expressed in Ferrer's stern, internalised performance (this is probably the role that best suited his rather stiff, unyielding persona) : he's impassive in his self-abasement, drinking himself to death or referring to his dwarfish self as a "trained monkey" with the poise of the born aristocrat he never stops being (it's rather unexpected when he talks to his parents and instantly reverts to the courteous formality of the grand seigneur). The film matches his reserve, not even giving him the satisfaction of hearing his father's apology while he lies on his deathbed - so much for sentimentality - yet also lets fly with an opening reel that's a riot of colour and movement (gaudier yet more effective than the similar sequence in FRENCH CANCAN) and contains a surprisingly powerful, no-punches-pulled depiction of a thoroughly poisonous relationship (Marchand as the prostitute is like a creature out of Zola, sharp-featured with small, greedy eyes). Doesn't really satisfy - probably file under Huston's ambitious misfires of the 50s and 60s, alongside MOBY DICK and REFLECTIONS IN A GOLDEN EYE - but the tone is clear-eyed, the dialogue literate ("Marriage is like a dull meal with dessert at the beginning") and the Art treated respectfully ; dear old Zsa Zsa burbles about "growing old gracefully" and sings a lovely Georges Auric ballad, which sounds about right...