Sunday, 6 January 2013

Complainte de la Butte

Lamenting is, quite frankly, what I feel like doing. The Moulin Rouge was, perhaps, once graced by dancers who enjoyed what they were doing, who got a thrill out of the nudity and the panting men who slavered over their exposed legs. There must have been a wonderful feeling of naughtiness, of things being done that are not generally done.

Now, of course, if I gave you zero money and I asked you to come back with ladies go around with no clothes on you would go immediately to the internet and find some site (I know not what) and you would come back with an awful lot of pictures. You would not have disabused me for taking photos, you would not have seated me next to a maudlin chap who looked as though he was having less fun than the girls, and the girls you brought me might well be smiling.

In short, I am deeply disappointed by the Moulin Rouge. The show was essentially a group of mediocre but perfectly proportioned dancers whose only purpose was to show off the extravagant and - admittedly - gorgeous costumes. They were, unfortunately, out of time, unsmiling, and clearly bored out of their minds by the monotony of doing three shows a day.

I am quite sure that three shows a day, every day, are enough to turn even the brightest of characters into a Scrooge of the highest order, but if you cannot muster the act of enjoying yourself, if you cannot make every show as fresh and bright as if it is the first and only time that you are doing the thing, then you are in quite the wrong place. I saw a group of beautiful but completely unsexy people; mannequins for the wonderful costumes.

I also saw why Swarovski's shops are so bereft of anything worth buying; every crystal in the entirety of France must have been sown or stuck to one of these bodies. The stairs were full of them. The stairs. 

I will say that the staff are flawless; within two minutes I saw a bouncer speak French, English, Chinese and Russian. I would love to see a bouncer back home in Aberdeen speak English and Chinese, or English and French, or even English.

In any case, it was something to see, and a thing to tick off my list. But I have to say that it is the first time that in a room containing semi-naked women and me not a person was having fun.

And quite frankly


In short, don't bother with the Moulin Rouge. It is a terrific waste of time and money.

No, it's not even terrific. It's just a waste.