Moulin Rouge
I’ve spent the last 24 hours watching ‘Moulin Rouge’ first the VHS on TV, then the DVD, especially the interviews with writer Craig Pearce and driector Buz Lurhman. But also the rehearsals, the costumes and dance.
It so makes me want to get back into the director’s chair
To do with intensity and passion something I have had the chance already to do with actors on tape and film, on sets, on location, in prison cells and on beaches, in swimming pools and hospitals. I have recreated traffic accidents, had couples making love, had watersprites swim and dance in the deep end of a floodlight swimming pool. I want to create ‘Le Cirque du Soleil’ like extravaganzas on film, if only for an opening or closing sequence. I want that box of rich chocolates. Had I not got caught up my cyberspace visitor from Diaryland I would have written for an hour some 2000 words of passion about ‘Moulin Rouge’ – not a review, more a description of my consumption of it and how it effected me as films like ‘Diva’, ‘Brazil’ ‘Romeo & Juliet’, ‘Toto Le Heros’ and ‘Macbeth’ have effected me in the past.
‘Moulin Rouge’ has been my ‘Artist’s Day Out’
It reminds me of the importance of inspiration. In need to get out of this box more often.
My brain is a box of fireworks
I have to drop in a match from time to time, otherwise it is as if I am being rained upon. Last night someone gently tipped lighter fuel into that box, watch she didn’t realise, as she interrupted me as I began to write about ‘Moulin Rouge’ live, online, into my ‘entry box’ was that that was a small ball of smouldering wire-wool fizzling about in the corner of the box – the fireworks, large and small began to explode and burst, at first one at a time, then two together, some would ricochet around inside the box, others would skid into packets of sparklers, another would set off a handful of firecrackers, others would punch a hole in the dampened cardboard exterior and burst across the sea.
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