From the opening to closing titles, the film consists mostly of a string of adapted songs, with score compositions bridging the short periods in between, and the only way to evaluate them in the film and on their albums is to discuss them chronologically, one by one. Keep in mind, however, that the film often makes use of layers of multiple songs and score material at once, with faint hints of music mixed far in the background to suggest, just like the screams of jubilant Bohemians, that there's typically a party right outside the door or window. Fortunately, a competent final sound mix almost always emphasizes the primary lyrical intent of every scene well. Before jumping into a discussion of the music in each major scene, though, some background on the album situation for Moulin Rouge is required. Even with two commercial albums and one promotional album representing Armstrong's interests during that initial awards season, there are songs and snippets of score that remain yet unavailable, causing some listeners to comment that the album crisis is just as confusing as the film itself. On the whole, the majority of score cues and songs in the film are available on the three albums when combining their contents. The original commercial album of May 2001 made the faux pas of providing the original rock versions of many of the songs rather than the adaptations made by Armstrong and others for the film. Thus, it's important to take note of the albums carefully to see who is exactly performing what. Songs on the albums often appear in the film as part of a larger medley under a different name, too. There has always been dissatisfaction with the discrepancies between the film and album versions of many of the songs; when the second commercial album of February 2002 states that a track features a "film version" of a particular recording, that track is often missing background vocals, instrumentation, or other musical elements that breathe life into the version heard in the film. Even the sound effects contribute positively to several musical pieces. As this review progresses, each of the songs and significant score cues will be discussed as they are heard in both the film and, in some cases, on the various CD albums. True fans of Moulin Rouge should match the following references to the direct DVD rips of the soundtrack that unfortunately remain the only truly accurate representations of the film's music (not to mention a source of several other instrumental goodies heard over the menus).

The film opens with the "mad conductor" sequence that includes a live style of symphonic performance of the 20th Century Fox studio theme, immediately followed by grandiose orchestral statements of three of the film's more notable adaptations: "The Sound of Music" by Richard Rodgers & Oscar Hammerstein II, "Le Tango du Moulin Rouge" by Marianito Mores, and "The Can Can" from "Orphee Aux Enfers" by Jacques Offenbach. This roughly one-minute sequence is not available on the initial albums. The first song of the film, as the audience swooshes over Paris and into the loop of the story, is an arrangement of "Nature Boy," performed vocally by David Bowie. John Leguizamo's character, the legendary Bohemian Henri Toulouse-Lautrec, uses the song to introduce the opening background and summarize the heartbreaking conclusion of the film. The orchestral accompaniment organized by Armstrong is impressive, and Bowie's performance covers Leguizamo in the film and is available on the first commercial album and promo. The next two songs, as the poet narrates his arrival in Paris and is ensnared in the Bohemian lifestyle, are "Complainte de la Butte" and "Children of the Revolution." The first is performed by Rufus Wainwright in both the film and on the first commercial album. The latter song is performed by the Bohemian characters in the film, but reverts to its Bono version on the first commercial album. None of the film recordings of the variants of "Children of the Revolution," including its massive reprise at the climax of the story, is available on any of the three albums. Also unavailable on album is what some viewers considered the first truly offensive adaptation in the film; Rodgers & Hammerstein's "The Sound of Music" is heard in bits and pieces throughout the narrative, but its most memorable employment occurs next. It highlights a hilarious scene in which the poet is accepted and embraced into the Bohemians' world with his wondrous ideas about stories for their productions. McGregor's impressive performance of the first two stanzas of the song (separated slightly by dialogue) is unreleased in any form. At only about fifteen seconds in combined length, this music may seem insignificant, but its impact in the film is anything but. The subsequent half hour of music is devoted to the Moulin Rouge club itself, and this is where the Moulin Rouge spectacle transcends into the realm of the really bizarre.

As the poet succumbs to the power of absinthe, pieces of score and song material are twisted into a sound effect that includes "The Sound of Music" and "Nature Boy" as preludes to a powerful and glorious cast performance of "Children of the Revolution." Hysterical screaming and laughter are juxtaposed with a light, tingling percussive effect to represent the Green Fairy, a figment of the poet's imagination. The most outrageous medley of song adaptations in the entire film is the "Zidler's Rap" piece, during which Jim Broadbent invites us into his club as showman Harold Zidler. This medley is the one most often described as nauseating by detractors of the film, because it offers by far the harshest contrast of songs in any of the film's merging of styles (and it didn't help that there was plenty of flesh and slightly demonic visuals flashing around the scene's lush sets). It begins with a short intro written for Broadbent by music director Marius de Vries, and then launches full steam into a remake of Pattie LaBelle's 1970's hit "Lady Marmalade," performed by the irritating, if not wildly popular grouping of Christina Aguilera, Lil' Kim, Mya, and Pink. After a short interlude of Kurt Cobain's "Smells Like Teen Spirit," the Fatboy Slim performance of "Because We Can" (which shot up in popularity after this film) rounds out the medley. Both "Lady Marmalade" and "Because We Can" appear in forms that resemble their film versions on the first commercial album. With the introduction of Satine to the Moulin Rouge production that night, the "Sparkling Diamonds" medley takes a less bass-heavy and more elegant approach. The medley is a substantial reworking of the song "Diamonds Are a Girl's Best Friend" by Jule Styne and Leo Robin with one stanza of Madonna's "Material Girl" thrown in for good measure. An album-specific mix of the medley, complete with the appropriate sounds of female shrieks and orgasms, appears on the first commercial album. The second commercial album offers the most complete film version, with crisper performances by Kidman and Broadbent. In the time before the poet and courtesan first discover each others' identities, two more non-actor songs are cut and pasted into short scenes in the film. Both David Bowie's insufferable "Diamond Dogs" and Diane Warren's rather average "Rhythm of the Night" make brief appearances, though they get full treatment on the first commercial album. The latter song is also featured on the DVD of Moulin Rouge after the film concludes.

A reprise of "Diamonds Are a Girl's Best Friend," cut short by Satine's fainting spell, returns to the jazzy big band format of the song's previous performances, bringing Moulin Rouge as close as it would ever come to the sound of a Busby Berkeley production. As the poet tries to explain himself to the courtesan after a mix-up of identity, the mood begins its full swing to the romantic side of the musical. Satine proceeds to tear off Christian's cloths and reveal his "huge talent," and Luhrmann spices up the environment with a wildly spirited orchestral performance of "The Can Can." Arguably the most popular adapted song in the film is the Elton John classic "Your Song," admirably performed with romantic sincerity by McGregor. Be aware that the album versions of this song, while containing tenor Alessandro Safina's background vocals, do not feature the same ensemble choral accompaniment of the Metro Voices. Kidman's reprise of "Your Song" in the subsequent scene (to the Duke) is only forty seconds in length, but is also performed with simple elegance. With a rushed mix of Marius de Vries' own song "Meet Me in the Red Room" and one more passage of "Children of the Revolution" heard in this scene, the hard rock portion of the film is essentially finished ("Meet Me in the Red Room" appears on the second commercial album). A more satirical and comical can-can approach takes hold of the movie for a while, highlighted by the frenzied and enjoyably devious medley called "The Pitch." A very fast paced combination of "The Can Can," "The Sound of Music," and "Your Song" eventually reveals itself to be the only song of the film to feature original lyrics in addition to vocal performances by every major character. It's the highlight of the second commercial album as well, though some listeners will find the piece too choppy to appreciate as anything other than a comedy routine. The following ten minutes of the film are arguably its very best, with the love scene in the giant elephant house beside the club containing the flirtatious sparring between the poet and courtesan. Kidman's performance of the popular Will Jennings song "One Day I'll Fly Away" is remarkably assisted by Armstrong's robust orchestral and choral accompaniment, and the song appears on both the first commercial album and the promo. To hear McGregor's short, but lovely interjection of "Your Song" as Satine ascends the stairs of her elephant, however, the DVD remains the only option.

As the poet hears the courtesan longing for a better life, he builds steam in his approach to the infamous "Elephant Love Medley" by quoting passages, sometimes without song, from Andrew Scott and Trevor Griffin's "Love is Like Oxygen," Paul Francis Webster and Sammy Fain's "Love is a Many Splendored Thing," and Andrew Barlow and Louise Rhodes's "Gorecki." The "Elephant Love Medley" is by far the single highlight of the film, with breathtaking shots of the club and the two main characters falling in love atop the ridiculously opulent elephant. The structure of the medley systematically quotes one or two verses from each of its dozen song adaptations before moving on to the next nod. In order, the songs referenced are John Lennon and Paul McCartney's "All You Need is Love," Paul Stanley, Desmond Child, and Vini Poncia's "I Was Made for Lovin' You," Phil Collins' "One More Night," U2's "Pride (In the Name of Love)," Kenneth Gample, Leon Huff and Cary Gilbert's "Don't Leave Me This Way," Paul McCartney's "Silly Love Songs," Jack Nitzsche, Buffy Sainte-Marie, and Will Jennings' "Up Where We Belong," David Bowie and Brian Eno's "Heroes," Dolly Parton's "I Will Always Love You," and again John's "Your Song." Once more, a magnificent tenor (Safina in the former song, Jamie Allen in this piece) lends an incredible voice to wordless vocals at the concluding crescendo to the "Elephant Love Medley." That medley is reason alone to pick up the first commercial album, though be aware that the mix is slightly different from the film version and it's missing the famous "you're going to be bad for business" line, as well as the tingling percussive effect and fireworks of celebration at the end. The emotional high point of the film, the subsequent "Rehearsal Montage" scene is scored with an extremely warm piano performance by Armstrong. The score begins to play a much larger role at this juncture in the film, as the gravity of the tragedy about to unfold is conveyed through cues like "The Duke's Demand" and "A Darker Force." All of these are included, along with "Satine is Dying" not long after, on Armstrong's promotional album. It is during this time that the film employs its joint love song for Christian and Satine. Originally written by David Baerwald for William Shakespeare's Romeo & Juliet, "Come What May," is a grand ballad featuring Kidman and McGregor's most emotionally appealing performances. When the song was ruled ineligible for an Academy Award nomination, McGregor spoke publicly about his disgust with the verdict.

All of the love songs are generously represented across multiple albums. The film version of "Come What May" is available on the promo and second commercial album (though the sound quality of that song on the second commercial album is surprisingly poor, for some reason). The next song, another tip of the hat to Madonna, is perhaps the folly of the film. As the evil Duke of Monroth (Richard Roxburgh) gets his hands deeper into the affairs of the Moulin Rouge, contributing to Satine's demise as he financially supports the club's new grand theatre, the Broadbent character of Zidler reassures the Duke about his choice of taking Satine as his wife. The consequent performance of Billy Steinberg and Tom Kelly's "Like a Virgin" is ridiculous in every way, with terrible (if not funny) vocals by the nasal-voiced Roxburgh. The perverse lyrics for this song, as to be expected, are the dirtiest of the whole film (causing even more protests from conservative religious groups), and a return to the big band orchestral style of accompaniment is alone a great asset. After this last comedy routine, though, the film dives very quickly and permanently into its inevitable despair. The betrayal medley "El Tango de Roxanne" accompanies a lengthy, downright creepy scene in the film, but at its heart is a beautiful and elegant dance scene with wonderful character vocals by Jacek Koman. A magnificent combination of Sting's "Roxanne," Marianito Mores' "Le Tango du Moulin Rouge," and eventually "Come What May" provide for one of the more chaotic, though beautiful split screen scenes in the film. The tango medley appears on the first commercial album and the promo in slightly differing forms, though it should be noted that neither includes the sound effects of the tapping shoes on the dance floor during the music, a sound that actually greatly enhances the music. From the wicked violin solos early in the cue to the crazed piano and string section chaos opposite McGregor's portion of the song, the instrumental backing in "El Tango de Roxanne" is not to be missed. The use of "Roxanne" and "Le Tango du Moulin Rouge" as counterpoint in the second half of this song (after the eye of the storm in the middle of the medley) is another highlight. When the courtesan realizes that the only way to save the poet's life is to leave him for the Duke, she performs the solemn song "Fool to Believe," written for the film by Armstrong and a host of others. Featuring a strong choral connection to the score material, this piece is pure Armstrong in its drab tone, and it is only available on the promo album.

Broadbent's surprisingly operatic performances become much more important at this point in the film. He accompanies Kidman with debatable sympathy in a short reprise of "One Day I'll Fly Away" at the end of "Fool to Believe," and the strength of his voice is the basis for the subsequent adaptation of Freddie Mercury, Brian May, Roger Taylor, and John Deacon's "The Show Must Go On." A determined and oppressively dramatic piece, this song confirms the impending death of the courtesan as the stage crews prepare the fateful evolution of the club. An extremely aggressive bass region eventually builds to one of Armstrong's typical rhythmic loops informed by the rock genre. The song makes an appearance on the second commercial album, but it does not match the film arrangement and isn't particularly pleasant in its depressing tone. As Satine carries out her plan, the score cue "Satine's Sacrifice" is largely obscured by the sound effects of thunder in the film; this short piece does not exist on album. The lengthy score cue that follows, "After the Storm," is indeed heard on the second commercial album. It explores, on melancholy strings and solo woodwind, elongated variations on "Your Song" that are guaranteed to sink your spirit. The club's ultimate production allows the story's one last major flourish before Satine's death. The medley "Hindi Sad Diamonds" is mostly an interpretation of Sameer's "Chamma Chamma," but it also dissolves into challenging renditions of "Diamonds Are a Girl's Best Friend" in its latter half (a smaller, original motif called "The Hindi," written by Steve Sharples, is performed by Leguizamo at the start). Appearing on the first commercial album, the medley is an overwhelming blast of hard rock and Indian-styled progressions simultaneously, with frantic performances by the harsh-voiced Alka Yagnik and Kidman as Satine approaches her fate. Zidler attempts to hide the confrontation in the middle of the show, performing a somber, poignant, and short "Wedding Vow" vocal that remains unreleased. The film's most powerful moments exist in the following reprises of "Come What May" and "Children of the Revolution," neither of which appear on any album for Moulin Rouge. As Satine sings to Christian as he walks away from the stage after interrupting the final show, she delicately expresses "Come What May" with minimal accompaniment. As both her voice gains strength and the orchestra swells, her inability to sing due to illness abruptly cuts her short. But the momentum this performance establishes for the final scene is tangible.

The climactic reprise of "Come What May" at the end of the film eventually includes McGregor's response (always to gasps of the on-screen audience) and the layering of both leads in one last resilient performance over resounding orchestral harmony. The chaos of the Duke's attempt to shoot Christian launches a comedic explosion of chaos, scored by wild bursts of parody-style recordings by Armstrong. Leguizamo opens the victorious, final statement of "Children of the Revolution," joined by the entire cast ensemble. Both McGregor and Kidman's performances of their character themes ("Your Song" and "One Day I'll Fly Away," respectively) are overlapped as counterpoint over the rest of the cast, and the entire group eventually reprises one last full performance of "Come What May" to essentially close out the film's major song content. The "Death and Ascension" cue by Armstrong, with compelling strings and choir, is perhaps the truest connection between Moulin Rouge and the rest of his scoring career. That cue eventually parlays directly into both an instrumental and vocal reprise of "Nature Boy" by McGregor, and the film concludes by pulling around in a full circle and starting at the beginning once again. The end credits of the film open with a piece that is odd in several ways; first, it is actually original for Moulin Rouge and, second, it has no connection to any of the rest of the material for the film. This is the film's most disappointing musical choice, because a rousing orchestral or vocal summary of the primary adaptations would have wrapped the entire production into an extremely neat package. There was also confusion over the fact that many listeners mistakenly thought that Armstrong wrote the oddly postmodern piece; it was, in truth, the work of Steve Sharples, who had been involved with the production of a few of the preceding songs for the film. Officially titled "Bolero," the piece offers simplistic rhythms with a maniac playing the violin and the Australian orchestra offering some meat on the bones of the propulsive, increasingly rapid rhythm. It has a sort of genuine carnival feel to it and, to the delight of many listeners, it was made available on the second commercial album. Unfortunately, the end credits music in the film consists of more than "Bolero." It concludes with a creaky, old violin solo that rises into orchestral crashes representing each of the four Bohemian virtues. This material is unreleased on album, nor has credit been properly attributed for its composition.

The underscore provided by Armstrong, along with some help from Chris Elliot, had a difficult task in Moulin Rouge, and this material (amounting to at least half an hour in length) deserves some discussion on its own. That unenviable task included the necessary weaving of all of the song adaptations together into one smooth, flowing series of related tones. Armstrong wrote a handful of original orchestral material for Moulin Rouge, but the majority of the score consists of instrumental adaptations of "Your Song," "Nature Boy," and "One Day I'll Fly Away." Small portions of Jacques Offenbach's "Gaite Parisienne" and "Orpheus in the Underworld," Rodgers & Hammerstein's "The Lonely Goatherd," Richard Karma Moffett's "Golden Bowls," and Marianito Mores' "Tanguera" are also quoted. Both Armstrong and Elliot orchestrated or performed extended variations of Bernie Taupin and Elton John's "Your Song;" Armstrong's own performance of the song was most widely used in the film, highlighted during the rehearsal scene, while Elliot's version held a lengthy spot later in the film. Two of Armstrong's performances of this theme exist on his promo album, with Elliot's appearing on the second commercial product. All of the other original cues of note are Armstrong's work. Among the most popular of his cues is the mesmerizing choral crescendo heard during Satine's death and ascension, and it is thankfully available on both the promo and the second commercial album. Among other notable cues written by Armstrong are the devilish "The Duke's Plan" and two different versions of "Satine's Theme." The latter theme, delicate in its piano performances, accompanies the somber scenes of Satine's demise in the second half of the film. The highlight of the score is the "Satine and Christian" theme for both the courtesan and poet, and this is the pulsating string and choir idea that captures the agony and frustration of the poet as his world turns from joy to sorrow in the final scenes. All of the aforementioned cues are available only on Armstrong's promotional album. In sum, there is about 20 minutes of original score available between all the albums. The promo also includes the robust, instrumental performance of "Nature Boy" that was edited into a few sequences in the film. There remain several orchestral cues unreleased on any album, most of which short in duration but worthy of attention. A summary of all of these source recordings could likely fill another CD, especially considering all of the incidental material mixed far in the background of some cues.

Overall, all of this piece-by-piece song and score analysis is irrelevant if you haven't been willing or able to appreciate the whole product in the film. The music is so dependent upon the spectacle of the visuals and the remarkable sound effects that it's difficult to separate them. The sound effects are an integral part of the listening experience, from the consistent swooshing that represents the windmill and quick character movements to singular moments like the wild ringing of a bell after Leguizamo announces "He's got a huge talent!" Thus, in many ways, no album experience can completely convey the aura of Moulin Rouge. Many of the hard rock and rap songs will be nearly intolerable on album for those looking strictly for the romantic material, especially on the first commercial album, but these elements fit perfectly into the larger picture. Armstrong's production work and marginal orchestral score could have gained him an Academy Award easily if the score had been considered eligible, even with the extremely tough competition from dramatic scores in 2001. His most vital contribution to the film was his incredible orchestral coordination, transforming rock songs into huge musical pieces and, at the same time, assisting in aiding the inexperienced voices of McGregor and Kidman. The overwhelming power of the orchestral and choral mixes, including the occasional vocals by the tenors in the background, transforms the highly unique parts of the musical into a consistent sonic powerhouse. As for the albums, this is an unfortunate case in which no one album will be sufficient. In fact, for serious fans of the film, no two albums will suffice. But for casual, mainstream viewers, those who desire the best songs in the picture, the two commercial albums will likely serve as the necessary souvenir. The second commercial album is significantly better than the first, including film versions of every included piece with the exception of one tepid and irritating remix track. The first album is still necessary, however, simply because it is the only source of the "Elephant Love Medley." The Armstrong promo will be the avenue for film music collectors to take, but keep in mind that the songs are the true heart and treasure of Moulin Rouge, not the underscore. Inevitably, if you want a piece of music from the movie badly enough, just purchase the DVD and transfer the song you want onto your computer's hard drive before burning your own Moulin Rouge compilation. Whatever you decide to do, you can't help but be blown away by the scope of this inventive film and its stunning music.   @Amazon.com: CD or Download