“Moulin Rouge” has been called many things, some involving expletives. But with love-it (an Oscar nomination for Best Picture) and leave-it (director Baz Luhrman makes old people dizzy) sentiments forever unresolvable, the film’s breathtakingly original take on pop life overcomes this verbalization of differing tastes.

Much like Pop Art, which took the art world by storm in the ’50s with witty and detached comments culled from everyday idols and objects, Luhrman’s frenzy of light and sound ends up a collage of pop culture fondly stitched together somewhat haphazardly. Unlike the art movement that uncovered Andy Warhol as a Campbell’s soup fan, though, Luhrman’s latest film cares deeply for this created wonderland. He isn’t making a statement on pop culture, he’s composing an ode to it.

So “Moulin Rouge,” following on the heels of Luhrman’s “Strictly Ballroom” and “Romeo + Juliet,” takes a simple love story and adds a healthy dose of irony along with about a million zooms and jump cuts. Nowhere is this more evident than in the culmination of the first 53 minutes of the movie, before conventional storytelling and the limits of human enjoyment necessitate a comparatively tame resolution.

One scene probably proved the deciding factor in granting Nicole Kidman her Golden Globe award and Oscar nomination. After a misunderstanding even the fast-talking John Leguizamo would have trouble spitting out, Kidman’s Satine – a “sparkling diamond” and the most high-profile of all courtesans at the turn-of-the-20th-century French palace of desires – finds herself in the same room as Christian (Ewan McGregor).

Christian’s lust for love is quelled only by the little problem that he’s never experienced such a thing, which doesn’t help a struggling writer of poetry and such. But in this room, Satine seduces with the most physical kind of love while Christian’s under the illusion that he’s there to read poetry and pitch an idea.

Where there’s finely crafted misunderstanding, hilarity’s just around the corner. And as Satine writhes and groans in ecstacy as Christian speaks the words to Elton John’s “Your Song,” well, that just sparkles. And this speaks nothing of how it all happens in a room inside a huge fake elephant.

You see, Luhrman wants nothing more than to recycle culture into a high-on-life epic, and he accomplishes this with hit-and-miss results. Yes, sometimes the reused lyrics are a bit of a stretch, but aren’t most musical numbers? At least he’s working with established classics visualized in a whole new context, to say nothing of McGregor’s and Kidman’s startlingly excellent vocal skills.

But good and bad shine especially bright on DVD, with each color as bright as the city lights shining when the lovers finally kiss. Luhrman treats his works like attention-deficit babies wrapped in red velvet, and he actually produced this special edition. His commentary, interactive featurettes, music videos and extended dance scenes present the perfect package for a film already fostering a devoted following. And yes, the skanky “Lady Marmalade” video now can be experienced in Dolby Digital glory.

Critics argue that the film supports only the cliches that act as crutches for less-stylized Hollywood fare. But above all else, “Moulin Rouge” harbors a love for music and a world that breeds its lyrics. It may be self-referential, grandiose and self-important. But sometimes, the self-important actually turn out to be right.