It’s a fascinating situation where a film is such an enormous sensation, everything related to it, whether narratively or thematically, is indelibly associated with that particular work. This is most notable when it comes to historical dramas, whereby true events serve as the foundation for some compelling tales. In the case of Moulin Rouge, it’s incredibly difficult to not think of Baz Luhrmann’s revolutionary musical film – but this is far from the definitive representation of the famed nineteenth-century institution, particularly in looking at the influence it had on artistic expression in France during a period of great social and cultural upheaval. There have been several films that have attempted to look into this era, most of them bearing the name of the famous institution – and while I am fond of the Luhrmann film, the most fascinating film on the subject has to be John Huston’s film, which he directed while he was at inarguably his highest peak as a filmmaker. A beautifully-made drama that is as strikingly gorgeous as it is profound in how it explores themes of individuality and artistic expression, his version of Moulin Rouge is just exceptional, a simple but delicate film that constructs a world that every viewer yearns to get lost in, exploring the inner depths of a time and place that many of us feel a bizarre kinship towards, both of the art it produced, and the cultural milieu that has been so heavily romanticized in the century since it was at its peak. An astonishing but wonderfully poignant film, it’s not Huston’s best-known work, but rather one of his more notable experiments with both form and content, and in every way, it manages to rise above minor shortcomings to be an absolute delight, albeit one that is also thought-provoking in how it enticingly invites us into this strange but wonderful world.

Moulin Rouge has two concurrent purposes, dual narratives that inform Huston’s exploration of some profound ideas. The first (and most dominant) is that it is a biographical account of the life and times of esteemed French artist and bohemian Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec, who is almost always considered synonymous with this era in French artistic history, especially in regards to the Moulin Rouge. The second function is that of a snapshot of France at a very particular moment in time, an era during the nineteenth century where art wasn’t solely a pastime for a select few, but rather a driving factor behind the culture, with the delineation between good art and offensive art always being related to how it represented society and its dominant principles. Huston was a filmmaker who always managed to take on a number of complex themes in his films and juggle them without much difficulty, as was every evident in this film, where he takes on these duelling ideas and formed them into a truly compelling story of individuality in a time of great social change. It may not be the definitive word on the Moulin Rouge (which essentially serves as nothing more than a foundation for the story), but rather a deeply moving glimpse into the people associated with it, and how it related to the changing face of French culture at this particular temporal moment. For that reason alone, Huston’s work on Moulin Rouge is an immediate success, since his ability to take this material, composed of a variety of disparate narrative strands, and turn it into something that isn’t only compelling, but also strikingly effective in conveying a particular message, means that it is far more than just the celebration of hedonism some of the detractors to this sub-genre of film seem to hinge their arguments on. There is a complexity to this film that doesn’t come about particularly easily, which only makes the experience of exploring this world through Huston’s assured vision all the more enthralling, since he captures our attention from the outset and holds it for the entire duration of the film.

The role of Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec is not one that is particularly easy to play in any situation, so the concept of this entire film centring around him and his own individual artistic journey would’ve likely been a difficult proposition for any actor. Known for his short stature, irreverent humour and unconventional way of life, Toulouse-Lautrec is a complex character, one that is often used as comedic relief, or as a voice of reason to the more unstable protagonists. Huston is focused on exploring his life, so in order to fully capture all the nuances of the character, he recruits José Ferrer, who was also similarly at his peak as the gold-standard for acting during this era, to play the famed artist. Many at the time referred to Ferrer’s performance as being incredibly brave, since he put his body through some notable challenges in order to play the short-statured character – and from the modern context, we’d be inclined to be more dubious about an actor of regular stature playing someone with a disability. However, the film gradually loses its obsession with Toulouse-Lautrec’s height, to the point where it is barely a factor midway through – and whether this is because it loses momentum in this side of the narrative, or because Ferrer is giving such a compelling performance outside of the physical side, is up to the individual viewer. I tend to look at it as a combination of both – and while Ferrer didn’t have the effortless charisma of some of his contemporaries, he had a stern honesty behind every choice he made as an actor, to the point where we start to lose sight of the actor, and see him instead entirely as the character. It’s a wonderfully complex performance that has gone unheralded in the decades since, especially through the methods Ferrer employs to develop Toulouse-Lautrec beyond just a stoic protagonist, turning him into a perfectly-formed hero of a story that benefits from such immense commitment.

Ultimately, the star of Moulin Rouge is Huston himself, since the entire intention behind this film’s creation must eventually come down to the style and substance of the story he is telling. Any film that apparently inspired Bob Fosse to become a stage and screen director is immediately going to be something notable, and one can easily see where this film rubbed off on him, since there is a peculiar control employed by Huston that is simply extraordinary. Production notes on the film claim that Huston designed it in such a way that it would take on the appearance of a Toulouse-Lautrec painting, and it’s not difficult to find a plethora of moments where it seems to be directly modelled on the painter’s work. There is a spark of unrestrained magic that persists throughout the film – it’s not only a matter of the stunning cinematography, gorgeous art direction and incredible costume design, but what Huston does with these various components, funnelling them through a story that seems less intent on being a step-by-step biographical account of the protagonist’s life around the turn of the century, and more on capturing the zeitgeist of the period through his perspective. Smoke-filled cabarets, over-populated streets and gorgeous art studios are the stage for this beautifully compelling drama that serves as a poignant exploration of Paris at a time of tumultuous change. It would be enough to be a character-driven drama that looked into these themes, but Huston is hinting at something more, clearly hoping to conduct a more in-depth analysis through a kind of enchanting, irreverent magical realism that creates a stunning stage for his artistic curiosities, and the perfect platform to take a look into this distinct era, creating a stunning, well-designed period drama that doesn’t come across as excessive for even a moment, each scene being essential and justifying the effort put into bringing this world to life, which would’ve been considered bombastic had there not been serious depth behind it.

Huston may be better-known for his grizzled crime dramas and epic adventure films, but even when working in something slightly unconventional, he succeeds wholeheartedly, crafting a delicate but striking drama that keeps us engaged throughout. Moulin Rouge is a triumph, but one that has sadly been overshadowed by similar films, particularly the aforementioned one that has taken all the attention due to its recency and distinct visual palette. However, Huston’s version of this world is essential, and played a vital role in setting the foundation for this brand of period drama, where a director isn’t dependent on the superficial components of the filmmaking process, but rather uses them creatively, telling a story that warrants lavish design, since there is something meaningful underpinning it. As one of the most prolific directors of his generation, albeit someone who was never afraid to step out of his comfort zone when he saw the opportunity to try something new. What started as a playful experiment eventually becomes a gorgeous, complex drama that combines a frank discussion on the human condition with a stunning description of the trials and tribulations of those that choose a life of artistic expression, which is far more than just leading a life of creation, but also seeing the world in a remarkably different way. Moulin Rouge is a film ripe for rediscovery, since its gorgeous technique, enthralling story, memorable performances and genuine artistic prowess all converge into a dazzling, enticing glimpse into a particular moment in Paris’ history, taking us on a journey into this world, and one that we may yearn to never come back from, since it’s so much more captivating to be lost in this era, as shown through Huston’s resoundingly triumphant perspective.