On paper, there’s not a lot that’s original about Moulin Rouge. It’s a jukebox musical taken to its most extreme, where the idea is to indulge the flights of fancy and give into base-level emotions. The story isn’t revolutionary, featuring a familiar romance that never quite gets below surface-level puppy love. There’s so much that shouldn’t feel essential, and yet it’s maybe the most exhilarating piece of theater currently touring The United States. It’s the type of production fueled with Pixie Stix frenzy that welcomes back a crowd desperately wanting escapism. While Act II moments may allude to emotions many of us experienced during the pandemic, this is ultimately a show of hope, where laughter is encouraged.
Even before the flamboyant master of ceremonies Harold Zidler (Austin Durant) peers from behind the curtain with a devilish grin, the audience will have felt the naughty joys that this show revels in. The lobby is lined with exuberant distractions – including a photo-op with one of the show’s 10 Tony Awards statues. Once inside, the room, there is an awe to the entire room where a giant elephant and red windmill line the walls. Onstage, actors wander onstage as the band warms up. The show is alive long before the first number even hits. The cabaret dancers dressed so salaciously peer into the crowd, leaning on a lit-up Moulin Rouge sign, welcoming everyone into their world. It’s only a matter of time until the show starts, and even then one would be forgiven for not realizing it for how casually the stage is prepared.
But once the familiar chords of “Lady Marmalade” are heard and the title sign rises, it’s time for action! Prepare for the bombast as the room experiences one of the most astounding mood shifts possible. In a second, the conversations drop and attention falls to the stage. Zidler is there smiling, yelling “Hello chickens!” before preparing the crowd for a dazzling head rush, shaken up and poured just right. The opening jumps from song to song, the routines capturing everything from 19th century vaudeville to more contemporary styles. As the similarly designed Cabaret would suggest “Leave your troubles outside!” The main difference is that where Cabaret reveals itself to have a darker heart, Moulin Rouge has no time for it. This is about giving into the most basic of impulses. If you want to yell, then yell along. It’s an idea that comes early and often, finding the actors grounding themselves in broad caricatures in order for the jokes to work better.
Whereas most would see this as a detriment, that is to only judge this Baz Luhrmann adaptation on a surface-level expectation. The show is a celebration of life, allowing everyone to feel welcomed into this world of idealists. Every song is unified by its expression, finding measures leading into the next, where characters can meet over a Sound of Music joke that may be the heaviest of winks to the crowd, but creates the perfect safe space. Giddiness ensues, where any self-consciousness is absent and thus makes it free of the limitations of other comedic shows. By not thinking to have a greater point, this becomes a piece of theater on par with Ziegfeld Follies or even Andrew Lloyd Webber. It’s about the spectacle, about going home afterward and feeling more alive than you were when you walked in.
More importantly, one cannot appreciate the master craft of Moulin Rouge if judged solely on the narrative. Whereas most shows thrive on storytelling, this is one of those works that reminds you the crew is just as important as the cast. Spotlights bounce off the walls. Curtains rise and fall with reckless aplomb. The lights strobe the entire rainbow, turning everything into an attractive mirage. Even the stage direction is so brilliant that the later minimalist numbers effectively place actors at opposite ends of the stage lit by a single light, finding an emptiness that captures their emotional strain. Even for those who may be turned off by the novelty of the jukebox structure, witnessing the actors perfectly landing a shot while the backdrop transforms into a heartwarming French setting is a thing to behold. This is the side of theater that warrants big-budgeted productions, where a romance is pitted in a maximalist carnival. There’s hardly a moment where the stage doesn’t hold some provocation, and it’s a miracle that it all lands so perfectly.
Credit should also be given to the cast for navigating this larger than life world. Christian (Connor Ryan) effectively conveys the outsider finding love. His humble beginnings find him standing before a closed curtain which allows for a rare sense of intimacy. Like all characters in this, he’s an artist looking for a muse, which he finds in Satine (Courtney Reed). As she dangles from a swing, she sings one of the few film holdovers with “Diamonds Are a Girl’s Best Friend.” In her moment of allure, she throws a brisk costume change and switches emotions in a heartbeat in a way that keeps the show moving. Together, these actors especially find a way to be two lost souls in need of each other. Their expression is unlike anyone else’s. Their story needs to be told, and Moulin Rouge sells it like hotcakes. It’s funny, sensual, and even heartbreaking. Like the rest of the show, it feels performative but in a way that best captures the universality of what art is supposed to make everyone feel.
There’s of course Zidler, who amid the tension has a “show must go on” mentality. While the ending unfortunately doesn’t feel as overzealous as its all-timer of an opening, there is a curtain call that more than compensates. Confetti shoots from the sky. There are singalongs and can-can dancing. Everything is designed to overwhelm the senses and it definitely delivers. Without disrespecting anything about the established tone, the show finds itself in a unique head space. This isn’t a jukebox musical simply to celebrate an artist. This is designed to celebrate life, to know what it’s like to give into bliss. Maybe that’s what nightclubs are supposed to create that feeling of everlasting joy. For one night, the audience will have it. If you’re lucky, you will have it over and over for years.
Even when Moulin Rouge doesn’t reinvent the wheel, it’s one of the greatest pieces of contemporary theater currently touring. Those turned off by its gimmickry of dandies singing Outkast numbers need not fear. Even if the story doesn’t win one over, the exuberance of being in a room full of that energy is an unparalleled accomplishment. In a time where most musicals are obsessed more with the story, Moulin Rouge remembers through centuries of references the lingering impact that theater is supposed to have. Maybe it’s good to have art tackle tough issues, but sometimes it’s necessary to escape. To have that relief so perfectly captured on the stage is a thing of beauty and needs to be witnessed for oneself. Here’s hoping that they’re not far off when singing that the show is “so exciting, it will run for 50 years.” It more than deserves some consideration for that.
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