"Why does my heart cry...?"

In my entire life, there have been very few scenes that have captivated me at the level of Moulin Rouge!'s El Tango de Roxanne. I'd always found this quality, this certain power surrounding it I couldn't quite describe...

After what must be about the thirtieth viewing, I think I finally put my finger on it - passion. Burning, wild, hurtful, complicated and wonderfully heartfelt passion.

Not often have I been transmitted this sort of feeling by a movie scene... right now, only Marlon Brando in his endless regret and frightened moment of weakness comes to mind - that wet, ravaging Stanley Kowalski crying for his wife at the bottom of a staircase in - what else? - A Streetcar Named Desire.


Of course, the passion in Rouge is the complete opposite to that of Streetcar. While the latter is, as Blanche herself so accurately puts it "desire, just brutal desire", El Tango de Roxanne, as the entire film does, sends so many beautiful images of missed chances and lost love, presented so bluntly and with such deliciously dark cinematography...


It's both terrifying and wonderful to see all these characters fall into a hopeless stage of doom as the film enters its final and darkest act: the very one-dimensional (up to that point) Argentinean, bleeding from [unfilmed] love wounds, hurts the cold and unromantic Nini in an attempt to gather some sort of response from her, only managing to gather all eyes on the courtesan; a heartbroken, desperate Christian cries to a woman that must deceive him to save him; Satine loses her self control and tears apart a most well-thought plan to keep her love and her stardom - and even the despicably possessive Duke burns in jealousy as he finally understands, too late for the doomed couple, that undying love is more powerful than all the diamonds in the world.

Beauty, Freedom, Truth and Love - is there anything else worth all the trouble in life?