Reflections of a stormy petrel

Visually, it was revolting. It was the equivalent of an abstract painting, where you have to focus on each blot of colour equally, and drew attention away from the cnetre of the story. There was absolutely no attempt to focus your view on the main characters and bring out whatever it was that they saw in each other. The colours were obscene, the staging grotesquely artificial, and it generally looked designed by someone who had a violent hatred against romance and wished to produce the vilest caricature of it you could possibly imagine. And Baz Luhrman actually admitted, as if it was something to be proud of, that he had reduced as much as possible the content of the story. The moron claimed that this was a natural feature of musicals. Suuurrrrrre. Like SINGING IN THE RAIN, WEST SIDE STORY, MY FAIR LADY, FIDDLER ON THE ROOF, THE PHANTOM OF THE OPERA.... git.