Baz Luhrmann is a maximalist. There’s really no other way to put it. When Moulin Rouge! exploded onto screens in 2001, it didn't just invite you to watch a movie; it grabbed you by the throat and dragged you into a hyper-saturated, kinetic fever dream of 19th-century Paris. But the glue holding that entire chaotic, beautiful mess together wasn't just the red velvet or Nicole Kidman’s precarious trapeze act. It was the music. Honestly, the moulin rouge movie soundtrack changed the DNA of the movie musical forever. It took the "jukebox musical" concept—which, let's be real, can sometimes feel lazy—and turned it into a high-art collage.
You’ve got David Bowie covering Nat King Cole. You’ve got Nirvana mashed up with tap dancing. It shouldn't work. On paper, it sounds like a disaster. Yet, here we are, decades later, and "Lady Marmalade" is still the blueprint for a multi-star pop collaboration.
The chaotic genius of the mashup
Before Glee or Pitch Perfect made vocal blending a personality trait, music director Marius de Vries and Baz Luhrmann were experimenting with something much riskier. They weren't just covering songs; they were recontextualizing the entire history of 20th-century pop music to tell a story set in 1899.
Take the "Elephant Love Medley." It’s basically a legal department’s worst nightmare. In about five minutes, Ewan McGregor and Nicole Kidman belt out snippets of The Beatles, U2, David Bowie, Kenneth "Babyface" Edmonds, and Elton John. It’s dizzying. One second Christian is singing "All You Need Is Love," and the next Satine is countering with "Diamonds Are a Girl's Best Friend." It works because it treats these iconic lyrics as dialogue. They aren't just singing "Your Song" because it's a hit; they're singing it because, in that specific moment of the plot, Elton John’s words are the only ones big enough to express that level of romantic desperation.
The moulin rouge movie soundtrack succeeded where others failed because it didn't treat the source material with too much "preciousness." It chopped the songs up. It sped them up. It made them weird.
Why "Lady Marmalade" was a cultural reset
We have to talk about the powerhouse in the room. Produced by Missy Elliott and Rockwilder, the 2001 cover of "Lady Marmalade" was a genuine moment in pop culture history. Christina Aguilera, P!nk, Mýa, and Lil' Kim. It was an untouchable lineup.
Interestingly, there was actual tension behind the scenes. P!nk has been pretty vocal in interviews over the years about the "personalities" on set, specifically regarding who was going to sing the high-note-heavy bridge (spoiler: it was Christina). But that friction arguably fueled the track's energy. It’s aggressive. It’s loud. It’s unashamedly theatrical.
💡 You might also like: Not the Nine O'Clock News: Why the Satirical Giant Still Matters
- The Original: Labelle (1974) brought the funk and the grit.
- The Remake: Added a layer of hip-hop production and "Voulez-vous coucher avec moi" bravado that fit the film's "spectacular spectacular" theme perfectly.
The song spent five weeks at number one on the Billboard Hot 100. It won a Grammy. But more importantly, it served as a Trojan horse. It got people who wouldn't normally care about a period-piece musical to buy into the vibe of the film.
The "El Tango de Roxanne" phenomenon
If "Lady Marmalade" was the commercial peak, "El Tango de Roxanne" is the emotional soul of the moulin rouge movie soundtrack. This is where the movie shifts from a comedy to a tragedy.
It’s a gritty, gravelly reimagining of The Police’s 1978 hit. Jacek Koman, who plays the Narcoleptic Argentinean, starts it off with that raspy, whispered vocal that feels like a threat. Then Ewan McGregor comes in, and suddenly it’s a soaring anthem of jealousy and rage. The decision to set this to a tango was brilliant. Tango is the dance of the predator and the prey. By layering Sting's lyrics over a driving, percussive Latin beat, the soundtrack highlights the dark side of obsession that the bright colors of the earlier scenes tried to hide.
Most people don't realize that McGregor did his own singing. He isn't just a "singing actor"; the man has pipes. His performance on this track specifically is what convinced a lot of critics that he was more than just a charming lead.
Breaking down the David Bowie influence
Bowie is all over this movie. He didn't just contribute "Nature Boy"; his spirit is baked into the "Diamond Dogs" energy of the club itself.
Originally, "Nature Boy" was a hit for Nat King Cole in 1948. Bowie’s version for the film is ethereal and haunting. It sets the tone for the entire story—reminding the audience that this is a tale about a boy who "wandered very far, over land and sea." Later, Massive Attack did a remix of the same song for the soundtrack, which added this trip-hop, moody undercurrent that felt very "late 90s London" despite the French setting.
📖 Related: New Movies in Theatre: What Most People Get Wrong About This Month's Picks
That’s the secret sauce of the moulin rouge movie soundtrack. It crosses borders and eras. It’s a bit of a time-traveling jukebox.
The songs that almost didn't make it
Securing music rights is a nightmare. Baz Luhrmann spent two years just clearing the songs for the film.
- The Rolling Stones: They famously said no to "Enjoy the Show" (which was meant to be "Sympathy for the Devil").
- Cat Stevens: He initially blocked the use of "Father and Son," though he eventually relented for other projects later.
- Courtney Love: Surprisingly, she was one of the easiest to work with. She gave permission for "Smells Like Teen Spirit" almost immediately, reportedly because she was a fan of Luhrmann’s Romeo + Juliet.
Imagine the movie without the Nirvana reference. It would feel less rebellious. The opening medley at the Moulin Rouge club needed that punk-rock energy to show that this wasn't your grandmother’s cabaret. It was a place of "Bohemian" revolution.
The "Come What May" loophole
Did you know "Come What May" is the only original song on the whole soundtrack?
Technically, it wasn't even written for Moulin Rouge!. David Baerwald originally wrote it for Luhrmann’s previous film, Romeo + Juliet, but it didn't get used. Because it was an "old" song that wasn't written specifically for this film, it was actually ruled ineligible for the Best Original Song category at the Academy Awards.
It’s a bit of a tragedy, honestly. It’s the emotional climax of the movie. Every time those first few chords hit, you know exactly what’s coming. It’s a simple, soaring ballad that stands out because it’s not a mashup. It’s the one moment of pure, unadorned truth in a world of artifice.
👉 See also: A Simple Favor Blake Lively: Why Emily Nelson Is Still the Ultimate Screen Mystery
Why it's still relevant in the age of streaming
If you look at Spotify data today, the moulin rouge movie soundtrack still pulls in millions of monthly listeners. It’s a staple for theater kids, sure, but it’s also a case study in effective production.
The way the audio is mixed is incredibly dense. There are layers of foley—the sound of silk rustling, the clinking of glasses, the roar of the crowd—embedded directly into the music tracks. It makes the listening experience feel "three-dimensional." It’s not a clean, clinical studio recording. It’s sweaty. It’s loud.
Actionable insights for your next listen
If you're going back to revisit this masterpiece, don't just stick to the main "Volume 1" album. There's a "Volume 2" that contains some of the more experimental bits and orchestral scores by Craig Armstrong.
- Listen for the "Spectacular Spectacular" transitions: Notice how the music shifts from diegetic (stuff the characters can hear) to non-diegetic (the "movie" music) without a jarring break.
- Pay attention to Ewan McGregor’s phrasing: He mimics the original artists just enough to be recognizable but brings a theater-style vibrato that grounds it in the story.
- Look for the hidden cameos: Ozzy Osbourne provides the "Green Fairy" scream (though Kylie Minogue provides the singing voice and likeness).
The moulin rouge movie soundtrack isn't just a collection of songs. It’s a manifesto on why we love pop music. It argues that a silly pop song from 1980 can be just as profound as a grand opera if you sing it with enough heart.
To truly appreciate the depth of the production, try listening to "The Pitch (Spectacular Spectacular)" through a good pair of headphones. The stereo panning between the different characters' voices—Zidler, Christian, and the Duke—is a masterclass in audio storytelling. You can practically see the characters pacing around the room.
Grab the vinyl if you can find the 2017 reissue. The warmth of the analog format really brings out the orchestral swells in "Nature Boy" and "Come What May" in a way that digital files sometimes flatten. It’s an album meant to be played loud, preferably while you’re feeling a little dramatic.
Next Steps for the Ultimate Fan
- Check out the 2019 Broadway Cast Recording: Compare how Aaron Tveit and Karen Olivo handle the "Elephant Love Medley" versus the movie versions. It’s a very different, more "polished" vocal experience.
- Watch the "Lady Marmalade" Music Video: It’s a time capsule of 2001 fashion and peak-Missy Elliott production.
- Explore Craig Armstrong’s Solo Work: If you loved the sweeping strings, his album As If To Nothing carries that same cinematic DNA.