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Where was all the soul, sisters?

It was a Moulin Rouge-theme night, but one saw little of the abandon that marked Baz Luhrmann's lush Nicole Kidman-starrer

PHOTO: SAMPATH KUMAR G.P.

NOTHING WILD The evening made for some mild entertainment

The Moulin Rouge is all about colour, drama and long-legged lithe bodies dancing sensuously in diaphanous little costumes. In Baz Luhrmann's wonderful movie on this bastion of Parisian bohemia, Nicole Kidman essayed the evocative role of dancer, actor and courtesan with a pout, an arched eyebrow and the abandoned passion of her dance just reaching out and grabbing the audience.

So when one got an invite to a Moulin Rouge-theme night at the Taika, anticipation was high. The beginning was propitious: Taika was draped in red satin and sparkling lights, and young hostesses dimpled in sequined costumes.

Throbbing Afro music (by the same troupe that recently enthralled a planeload of Bangaloreans who went to Goa to celebrate Javeed Ahmed's birthday) set an up-tempo mood. All the usual partygoers were plied with a generous helping of crostinis and liquor and kept happy.

At long last, the opening notes poured out of the hi-fi system and a bunch of young girls and boys shimmied on to the stage and did their version of a cabaret. This was the first of the two-act performance and we hoped the second number would be better.

When the voices of Christina Aguilera, Lil'Kim, Mya and Pink rang out in the sexually suggestive high-energy rendition of "Lady Marmalade", feet got tapping and bodies swaying. The girls were back again energetic enough, but when the music urged them to "go sister, soul sister, flow sister", they did not pay heed.

This was no Moulin Rouge, not even an approximation of it. It was as if a bunch of schoolgirls had crashed an adult party, and surprising, since these were not schoolgirls. It was tamer than watching an annual day at a school. We are not buying the excuse about the costumes not being raunchy enough: come on, we have seen Asha Bhonsle and Usha Uthup pack oodles of oomph in their sari-clad avatars. You do not have to bare all to project passion. These girls just lacked the pizzazz to carry off the Creole Lady's "Gitchie, gitchie, ya ya da da".

The evening did not lack interest, though. A couple of young guys treated us to an unsought for eyeful of impromptu and uninhibitedly intimate dancing, complete with graphic miming. The chorus of Lady Marmalade, "Voulez-vous coucher avec moi (ce soir)?" must have got to them.

That said, the evening made for mild entertainment, which is saying a lot in a city that is forced to shut at 11.30 p.m.

SANDHYA MENDONCA

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