Moulin Rouge

The Moulin Rouge – A blog via Charles de Guale

We were already running late as it was but I was starving. Leanne ran ahead to save our place in line and I stopped at a doner kebab shop and struggled to order. Frites? Frites? He still had to fry them. I told him no, and as he attempted to make the perfect kebab for his only customer, I encouraged him that it was perfect, paid, and left.

The next two blocks were lined with kinky shops and live sex shows. I sped walked in the freezing cold trying to scarf down my kebab without ruining my red lipstick (I was unsuccessful, in case you were wondering) and found that it didn't matter if I was face deep in a styrofoam box, men still call out to any lady on the street. “Bon Appetite, Mademoiselle!” Don’t mind if I do…

We went inside beneath the glowing red windmill and found our seats. We were sitting next to a couple that obviously did not speak English, but that didn’t seem to matter too much, because after the waiter brought us a bottle of champagne, the lights dimmed and the show started.

To begin, the only prior knowledge I really had of the Moulin Rouge was from the movie. I knew that it was a show, but I had no idea it was going to be like this. It was nothing short of ‘Spectacular, Spectacular’! The opening number featured the whole cast, and centered on three women singing in French. Oh, and they were topless. But it really didn’t seem to matter. The costumes throughout the performance had a lot of boobage but it was so tastefully done it almost failed to catch my eye. I can’t say that much for the middle aged man sitting next to me, but it wasn’t as uncomfortable as I’d image the sex show next door would be. They were covered in sparkles, head to toe, men and women and it was so beautiful the way the stage was lit. The dancers were all so talented and my God were they flexible.

But the Moulin Rouge wasn’t just about cabaret of glittering feathered costumes; it also appeased the entertainment of thrill. The first man to come out was a juggler, going with the beat and throwing more and more pins in the air, fast as he could. Second, after another dancing number, was the incredible balancing act. A man and a woman came out and the man basically lifted the woman, and she balanced on her head… on his head. It was incredible. And then he was sitting in a chair and lowered her down slowly. I couldn’t stop thinking about how strong his stomach must be to be able to endure that. Yum. Shortly after was the ventriloquist, who I’m not sure how but somehow turned a real dog into a fake dog and made that fake dog talk. And then he had some audience members volunteer and they became his human puppets.

But I’m almost missing the point. The Moulin Rouge was a dubacherous dancing frenzy, with impeccably manicured routines. The costumes were unlike anything I’d ever seen before, and really played a huge part in telling the story at hand. Every dance that was performed was set around the world. It was like Cirque du Soleil and ‘It’s a Small World’, only with more boobs. And the costumes were so ornate, I wish I could have taken a picture just so I could show someone that such a beautiful art form still exists. I really felt transported back in time with the way everything was presented, I could tell that they really cared about their performance and that being a dancer in the Moulin Rouge was something that took years of hard work to achieve. I highly recommend this to anyone who has a little extra money to spend and who might find themselves in France because it was by far the best show that I’ve seen, and one of the most amazing experiences that I’ve had whilst studying abroad.

Kimmy Helling