The 10 Best Baz Luhrmann Musical Moments

Technically, Baz Luhrmann has only made one outright musical: 2001’s classic Moulin Rouge! But in some ways, every movie he’s ever made feels like a musical, with characteristics of Broadway, opera, music video and rock concert rematched and remixed in different ratios. With Elvis, Luhrmann seems particularly enamored of how these possibilities exist within the history of American pop music, and few filmmakers are better-equipped to depict the delirious, ridiculous heights of the form than Luhrmann.
Here, then, is a best-of-the-best compilation tape: The ten best musical moments in Baz Luhrmann’s filmography so far.
10. “Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps” in Strictly Ballroom
Let’s start with something simple: This number from the dance musical Strictly Ballroom is not the movie’s flashiest or most ebullient, taking place backstage rather than in front of an audience. Scott (Paul Mercurio) and Fran (Tara Morice) are about to dissolve their unlikely dance partnership to increase Scott’s likelihood of winning a championship…until they lure each other back with actions rather than words, mutually pulled into a dance as Doris Day’s “Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps” emerges on the soundtrack. Without big costumes or set decoration more complicated than a couple of curtains, Luhrmann relies on the precision of the song (and, of course, the chemistry of his actors) to draw us into this partnership. Eventually, Scott and Fran draw a crowd anyway; how could they not?
9. “Talk Show Host”/”Exit Music (For a Film)” in Romeo + Juliet
Radiohead doesn’t necessarily seem like a go-to Luhrmann musical act these days; their music feels too idiosyncratic for his frenzied mash-up style. But back in 1996, Radiohead was more of a mid-tier alt-rock act than an issuer of generational album-length statements. In other words, “Exit Music (For a Film)” wasn’t just a clever name; the future OK Computer track really was written for Luhrmann’s Shakespeare modernization. It’s a gorgeous bummer that emerges after an initial credits-rolling hush. (Interestingly, another song initially written for Romeo was “Come What May,” which went unused—but was disqualified from Oscar consideration for Moulin Rouge! because it was originally intended for the earlier film.) “Exit Music” is perfect, but the real classic on-screen Radiohead moment in Romeo + Juliet is the one involving B-side “Talk Show Host” (which, unlike “Exit Music,” actually appears on the film’s soundtrack—a rare case of a soundtrack prioritizing a song used in the body of the movie over a credits-only tune). Thom Yorke’s distinctive vocals are left out; the song’s four-note intro and backing melody is looped to score a scene of Leonardo DiCaprio’s Romeo hiding out in a dusty desert, smoking a cigarette, awaiting news from Verona and journaling. It’s a brief (and wonderfully emo) moment that became weirdly indelible; almost anyone born between 1979 and 1986 likely associates those opening notes of “Talk Show Host” with DiCaprio brooding in his loud button-down shirt.
8. “Young and Beautiful” in The Great Gatsby
I’m no fan of Lana Del Rey’s shallow, somnolent pantomimes of ennui, but the vibes, as the kids say, are perfect for her original contribution to the soundtrack of Luhrmann’s take on F. Scott Fitzgerald’s classic novel. Del Rey’s song scores a montage of Gatsby (Leonardo DiCaprio) reconnecting with his lost love Daisy (Carey Mulligan), with Daisy swooning over Gatsby’s orange juice machine, swimgear and, of course, all of his cool and beautiful shirts—all of the luxury and flash Gatsby hoped would one day impress Daisy, doing the job just as he pictured. The directness of the song’s lyrics play best in the background, as a lingering question that nags at the dreamy imagery: “Will you still love me when I’m no longer young and beautiful?”
7. “The Pitch (Spectacular Spectacular)” in Moulin Rouge!
Almost any musical number from Moulin Rouge! could fit on this list, but I want to highlight one that might be called overlooked: The scene in which showbiz impresario Zidler (Jim Broadbent), his star courtesan/performer Satine (Nicole Kidman) and their band of bohemian artists must hastily throw together a pitch for their leering financier, the Duke (Richard Roxburgh). With much of it performed in the closest Luhrmann ever gets to a proscenium framing, it’s probably the lowest-tech, most traditional, least-augmented musical sequence in the film (by which I mean, it only features some cartoon sound effects and sped-up action). It’s also something of a mission statement for Luhrmann’s ideal storytelling aesthetic: A dizzying and breathless attempt to put on the show, spun out from a familiar melody (in this case the French can-can “Orpheus in the Underworld”) and whirling into a singular vision.