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Man can not tell the truth. The truth exists only for an instant, after that it is only a memory, a memory filtered through human perception. Does this make man evil? No, it only makes him human... "Rashomon" deals with such themes. Akira Kurasawa's thought-provoking, meditative, and inovative film asks philosophical questions about the nature of truth, by showing one act of as seen through the eyes of four different people. The results are varied, and obscure the truth. But this is far more complex than one would imagine, for the characters do not, as it is often said, tell the story to make themselves seem the more . In fact, 3/4 claim to have commited the themselves. This results in a profound, but delightful psychological and philosophical puzzle of a film. The visual aesthetics of Kurasawa's film are beautiful, and most innovative considering the very low budget. As a whole the film has a soft, meditative, and very Japanese feel. Scenes of the sun playing through the trees, dappling the ground in dancing shadows, come to mind as being most effective. But what is most impressive, is that the pacing can be so lively, and entertaining, despite the fact that the majority of the film is made up of variations of the same scene. Kurasawa's pallete of truth and humanity introduced western ure to Japanese cinema, and is still a fine introduction to the film of that ure. All in all, "Rashomon" is most interesting, and satisfying fare. World cinema at its finest!

Gosford Park is a most unusual and complex film. Its all about the "getting there," and then when it does "get there" the "gotten" only serves to compliment the "getting." Yes, there is a mystery, and yes it is solved, but this only further complicates the characters and their relationships to one another. The revelation of the mystery only affords a greater mystery. So, in all actuality, the ending is only the place where the movie ends and the credits begin. How Gosford Park is all this and still manages to be satisfying is, perhaps, the greatest mystery of all.

The plot of Gosford Park is entirely to complex to be neatly tidied up here, besides anything less than a full script would be superficial. I will say, however, that it concerns a massive group of impossibly rich characters, invited to a party circa November 1932. Nearly all of these are restricted to the upstairs (aristocrats) and downstairs (servants). The first half of the film would seem to show the differences between these, but then, ironically, someone is ed and the film takes the opposite turn. Suddenly, each of these people are all just people, and the only thing dividing them is a set of stairs and musty ideals. Each group is, after all, made up of individuals put in their place solely by chance. In the end everyone has their own specific problems and concerns, that may or may not relate to their class, and are often either paralleled or mingled with the opposite class.

Do these themes resolve the movie? Well, yes and no. In the end the is irrelevant, and could have been substituted by any similar scandal or tragedy. It is the characters that matter. We never really find out just who everyone is, but that, the mystery left unsolved, may be the point of the movie. Gosford Park is at first all about surfaces, every character begins a caricature. However, gradually we realize that there is something never completely disclosed going on beneath the surface. Sure there are little revelations throughout, but all they really tell us is that each character is more than meets the eye. In an exact reversal of typical narrative, the characters start out simple and accessible, but end complex and mysterious. So their plights are never really resolved, they may still come away a little bit wiser for their visit.

All of this is made rich by cunning direction, lush photography, and impossibly wonderful performances. That director Robert Altman (M*A*S*H, Nashville) manages to drag a brilliant performance out every every member of his whopping 23-character cast is, well, like I said... impossible. But then again Altman really doesn't seem to give a damn. He is one of the most talented directors of our age, and he puts that talent to good use here. He knows the tricks of his trade very well. He can make any character an , a suspect, and all with the angle of his camera. And how he handles that cast...!

Speaking of which, it would take entirely to much text to detail the performances of each main character, as there are so many of them. However, there are two female performances that stand out, and seem to be garnering special attention. Maggie Smith is a show-stealer. She is so wonderfully bitchy and disdainful in her role, really giddy to behold. She manages to teeter perfectly between being a part of her class, and absolutely contemptuous of it. Then, in the opposite light is Helen Mirren. A servant, her performance is composed of subtle glances which tell us just enough of her bitterness, cynicism, and ultimate love, without completely revealing her. She is ultimately very sad, and she suppresses and reveals that sadness in just the right way.

Altman openly claimed his film to be greatly influenced by the classic French film, La Regle Du Jeu, a very similar study of social classes. Does this detract from the film's originality? Not really. Upstairs-Downstairs movies are really a genre all their own. Antiwar films, interracial love stories, teen angst dramas and other specific types of movies all may express very similar themes, but they can also be very unique. Gosford Park expresses the universal ideas of La Regle, but in a different manner. It lifts the themes and settings of the earlier film, and populates them with many different characters, and situations. The tone is different as well...

In Gosford Park Altman takes a very sly, farcical approach to his material. When watching it I got the feeling that he was like a kid throwing rocks into a busy anthill. His is his greatest rock, and one the ants spend a great deal of time figuring out how to approach. Should they swarm all over it, stand aside and laugh scornfully, hide away, or blame each other? Altman's ants all take a different approach. In the end there's just this rock sitting in the anthill, and they all leave. Besides, if anyone committed the it was Altman himself.

Moulin Rouge hearkens back to a time when movies had the fresh feeling of adolescence, intoxicated by their own possibilities. It's a deliciously offbeat film, completely aware of its own audacity. Not only does it reestablish the movie musical with verve and sincerity, but it does so in a unique and defining way. By mixing turn-of-the-century and contemporary icons, the craziness of the Moulin Rouge is updated for today's desensitized viewers, giving us an idea of just how liberating and frightening it must have been to visit that infamous dance hall all those years ago. It really "Smells Like Teen Spirit."

Christian (Ewan McGregor) comes to the Paris of 1899 an idealistic youth, searching for the materialization of his firm beliefs in truth, freedom, beauty, and love. Like a prodigal son he strays to the world of the Moulin Rouge, a decadent world of , , prostitution, and bohemian indulgence. It is there, through the frenetic tempo of extravagant sets and costumes, that he finds Satine (Nicole Kidman) a beautiful but jaded courtesan. Falling into a boyish infatuation, Christian confronts Satine, realizing his love, and her's in return. But their hope is dwindled, as Satine has sold her body in contract to the terrible Duke. Besides that, she is embittered with a horrible and ultimately tragic secret.

The story is clichéd to be sure (it's similarities to Camille often make you wonder if writers weren't merely using an old cliché, but an old movie), but it seems to work, if only because of director Baz Luhrman's wholehearted belief in its values. He digs down into the deeply hidden heart of his story, replacing the dirt of a hundred cheap melodramas with a visual artistry unrivaled by anything in years. In this way it expresses the sincere, almost raw emotion these stories once contained in a completely new way. Did we say completely new way?!

The visual artifice of Moulin Rouge is astoundingly fresh! It's painterly but kinetic in a way only a movie could be. The fabulous choreography, music, set design, performances... all blend to form a visual, aural, and emotional experience like no other! It has the Technicolor richness of a 50's Hollywood musical, but often the feel of a music video. The visual style ranges from somber pop-up book, to giddy cartoon, to lilting romantic dreamworld, to fantastic Bollywood production, and everything fits! That director Luhrman has managed to bring this all to the screen with such clarity is somewhat astonishing.

But of course we could not write a review of Moulin Rouge without mentioning the bizarre choice of music. Luhrman has unusual confidence in his eccentricities. But then again who else could take "Roxanne" and turn it into a beautiful, , haunting tango? And who knew "Like a Virgin" as sung by Jim Broadbent could serve as a goosepimply, if ironically bitter, release?

Of course it could also help that most of these songs are sung by the rapturous voices of Ewan McGregor and Nicole Kidman. Their performances are beautiful and sincere, particular Ewan's (that I feel the need to call him by his first name only proves how close to him I became). He becomes his role with unbelievable passion and heart. He has a bit of something that goes beyond acting, he has the magic of a great performance. He can embody youth, charming goofiness, and shattered idealist, and if he wasn't in love with Nicole Kidman! All this he expresses with an absolutely angelic singing voice (even its occasional weaknesses serve as charming strengths). You fall in love not only with him, but for him. The Academy not honoring him with at least a nomination would be a great disappointment.

Nicole Kidman is both y and beautiful, like the film itself a daring blend of old and new. She's part 30's queen, part pop star, a little Marlene Dietrich, a little Madonna. When discussing Moulin Rouge I've found that many would not see it solely because Nicole was in it, and this is sad. Her performance here is excellent, displaying her full range of talents. She expresses her usual cool seductiveness, but also a surprising comic flair, and at times an aching emotion. And did we mention her singing? Like Ewan, Nicole has a hidden vocal talent. Her voice puts resounding meaning into something that was once just something dumb on the radio. Her efforts have resulted in numerous awards, including a Golden Globe for Best Actress in a Musical or Comedy, and at least and Oscar nomination is certainly on its way.

The way all these unique visuals, and performances are organized is also extremely unique. The editing style has been criticized as frenetic, and poorly structured, but I would have to disagree. If one watches this film carefully enough they with realize that each cut serves in the dance, by punctuating each note. This becomes most apparent in the previously mention Tango de Roxanne, one of the many brilliantly choreographed, grandiose dance numbers. As the momentum and emotion expressed by the dance and song builds, the editing follows, rapidly increasing in cuts until finally bursting like a heart overwhelmed by its own beating. Similarly, when Christian first enters the Moulin Rouge the frightening madness of it all is perfectly captured by Luhrman's crazed scissors.

That Moulin Rouge has completely polarized critics is of no surprise. A large group of great films have done so, and I think this one is both a socially, and artistically important one. There are many who have called it a ridiculous piece of "pop trash." What these critics seem to forget is that Astaire and Rogers were the biggest pop icons of their era, and their stories were no more original. Ok, maybe Ewan and Nicole aren't exactly Fred and Ginger, but you get my point. Still it is exactly these critics who complain that American film studious never churn out anything original, and then turn to panning a film like this.

But regardless of how anyone else sees it, I would call Moulin Rouge a great film, and doubtlessly my favorite of the year. It is easily deserving of awards in the majority of Oscar categories. Acting, editing, set and costume design, direction, everything is in its own way unique and beautiful. It may look like Busby Berkeley on acid, but beneath the extravagance is a beating emotion. In a film industry ted by cynicism, it is relieving to find a movie that dares to be sincere. Say what you will, but this Oscar season I'll be rooting for the most opulent, energetic, emotional, beautiful, brilliant, audacious movie of the year. Moulin Rouge anyone?