(22) A kingdom of night time pleasures, where the rich and powerful came to play with the young and beautiful creatures of the underworld.

Romance and star-crossed lovers may not necessarily be everyone's cup of tea, but "Moulin Rouge!" still saw fit to grace the ASC's bill of best-shot films in the last decade. So if you’re looking for love, singing sitars, MTV-generation music and cinematic-grade aesthetic value without the heaviness of “Saving Private Ryan,” throw in your diamonds and join the two-hour Bohemian Revolution!

However, don’t forget.

Truth, beauty, freedom and love may be beautiful things, but as our protagonist Christian learns, there are forces “darker than jealousy and stronger than love” to prove that beautiful things don’t conquer all. And if that’s any indication, star-crossed lovers are still star-crossed at the end of the day and director Baz Luhrmann doesn’t let you forget it.

Jim Broadbent in the role of Harold Zidler pitches the show "Spectacular, Spectacular" (top) and introduces his circus of "Diamond Dogs" (below).

Instead, he beguiles you into a decadent cancan that is the Moulin Rouge with turn-of-the-century ardor, vibrant colors and movement, visually dynamic dance sequences, intricately beaded gowns, lavish set design and schmaltzy ‘80s love songs.

Dancers in the main hall of the Moulin Rouge for "El Tango de Roxanne".

And then just as quickly, he drops you on your derriere, reminding you that while the party was great and the absinthe was fun, your problems are still there. And not even money can get you out.

Satine, played by Nicole Kidman, falls ill (top) on the eve of her dinner with the Duke, played by Richard Roxburgh.

That’s the genius of this jukebox musical. Armed with frenetic intercutting and complete with red curtain theatrics, it whips your attention at its will by mixing playful musical interludes with hopeless and dire realities, seamlessly shifting mood like a master puppeteer in a way that serves up a feast for the eyes and is unlike other love stories of its genre.

The curtain at the opening and closing of the film acts as the story's framing device.

(43) Are you trying to save my soul?

A film whose theatrical trailer marches to the majestic thrum of Beethoven’s Seventh Symphony is a film that makes a promise. And while the promise might initially and at times seem unclear, “The Fall” nevertheless delivers in flying colors and with stunning visual pomp and circumstance.

At 43 on the American Cinematographer’s list of 50 best-shot films of the last decade, “The Fall” bestows a sumptuous canvas for the story of a disabled Hollywood stuntman and a young immigrant girl’s stay at a hospital in 1920s Los Angeles. Both are “fallen” individuals, so to speak; he, metaphorically, and she, having fallen off an orange tree.

And together, they spin a Dali-esque tale inspired by her imaginative contributions and his personal tragedy and shortcomings.

Locations span from Villa Adriana in Italy to the Namib Desert to the Taj Mahal in India.

Directed by Tarsen Singh and filmed in over 18 countries and at 26 locales across the world, the surrealist film boasts all natural locations and no CGI effects, despite its strikingly hyper-realistic landscapes. From Singh’s homeland of India to Rome to the Czech Republic and a host of other exotic destinations, our protagonists’ myth unravels in artfully symmetrical backdrops and transitions under clever observation.

Transitions are shots matched up with locations, such as Butterfly Reef in Fiji and India's Ladakh terrain.

Unlike “The Diving Bell and Butterfly,” “The Fall” is an intentionally detailed and meticulously constructed world——a magnum opus. While at only 43 on the American Cinematographer’s list, this film is jaw-dropping and arguably the most beautiful, if not extravagant, among the 50.

Our heroes escape ashore to an unnamed location in India.

(18) My diving bell has dragged you down to the bottom of the sea, with me.

If you have ever wondered what it must feel like to live without the function of your limbs and faculty of the rest of your body, look no further than “The Diving Bell and Butterfly" (or "Le Scaphandre et le Papillon").

Based on the life of French fashion editor Jean-Dominique Bauby after a crippling stroke in 1995, the 2007 film follows his struggle to regain the life he has left after being diagnosed with “locked-in syndrome” and left paralyzed, save for his left eye.

Bauby's nurse, Claude (Anne Consigny), holds up the alphabet chart.

Ranked 18^th on the American Cinematographer’s list of 50 best-shot films in the last decade, “The Diving Bell and Butterfly” presents a unique set of conditions in comparison to its French peer “Amélie.”

Largely told through Bauby’s perspective, namely through the left eye, the film serves us an unsettling and dismal view of Bauby’s new static and often times, crooked world.

Bauby's ex-wife Céline Desmoulins (Emmanuelle Seigner) and doctor (Patrick Chesnais) watch over him.

Picturesque cinematography is scarce and when present, is always somehow imperfect——always askew. There is no fanciness, no ideally lit or well-framed visual indication of underlying themes or emotions; instead, it is raw and incoherent in form and by that, authentic in experience.

One sees and feels and struggles as Bauby does. And with him, we know the anguish without seeing his tears because when the screen clouds over and the colors in the frame blur together, it is enough to understand. The film is a ride, a frustrating and intensely personal ride that is undoubtedly worth its placement on your Netflix queue.

Happy accidents

A criteria of judging cinematography is its ability to effectively propel a story. Like music, it evokes and instills feelings without verbal cues or instructions. Its meanings are implied, hitting on instinctual notes, and while not wholly graspable, can still be felt by its viewers.

In the late 1920s, many early cinematographers feared that the advent of sound would mean the death knell for cinematography. They presumed that stories would henceforth be explained, as opposed to being tactfully conveyed through thoughtful imagery—the fundamental domain of film.

However, when “The Jazz Singer” debuted in 1927 and other “talkies” thereafter, it was evident that the importance of cinematography remained a vital and foundational aspect of film and filmmaking.

Regardless of dialogue, a story’s mood is still dependent on its framing and lighting and eventually in the late 1930s, its colors. As a visual medium, artistic and technical decisions are what carries films on a conscious, and more importantly, subconscious level. It adds depth and meaning where words fail to adequately express the appropriate emotions.

Richard Brooks’ 1967 film “In Cold Blood" characterizes such an instance. In a scene toward the end, a tormented Robert Blake relays the story of his abusive father before his sentence is carried out. While the play of light and rain reflecting off the window onto his face was a happy accident, it is evident that that moment undoubtedly added so much more to Blake and by extension, the story.

Slow and "steady" wins the race

Before 1976, the film industry generally had two options when filming a moving or “tracking” shot. Either set up a dolly and track, or play it “hand-held” and hire the steadiest camera operator you can find.

Often times, however, these methods proved costly in both time and money (laying and leveling dolly tracks on uneven ground is not exactly a party) and the results were shaky at best even in the hands of the most stable cameraman.

Fortunately, the tide turned in 1976 when the industry found itself face to face with an innovative piece of equipment called the Steadicam. Today, a registered trademark of Tiffen, the Steadicam—originally the “Brown Stabilizer,” named for its inventor, cameraman Garrett Brown—is a stabilizing camera mount. Consisting of a harness by which an iso-elastic armature is attached, the Steadicam isolates the operator’s movement from the camera and absorbs the shock of jerks and shakes when moving over inconsistent terrain.

Combining the uninterrupted motion of a dolly and the versatility of hand-held work while preserving stable footage capture meant a new age for camerawork. From George Lucas’ “Return of the Jedi" to Martin Scorsese's "Goodfellas," the Steadicam has since become an industry staple.

In Joe Wright’s “Atonement,” nominated for a 2007 Academy Award in best cinematography, an impressive five minutes and five seconds Steadicam shot effectively and poignantly conveys the personal hopelessness and waste of war on Dunkirk’s shores in World War II.

Marking the ten-year anniversary of the 'The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring'

Nearly a decade ago, Tolkien’s quintessential epic fantasy rode into the halls of cinematic history to the stirring orchestration of Howard Shore, decked by production designer Grant Major and clad in the armor of Andrew Lesnie’s cinematography.

From the innumerable and diverse store of prosthetics and weaponry to the ornate and precise set design churned out by Weta Workshop , Jackson and his team pulled out all the stops——turned out all the tricks——to ensure Tolkien’s Middle-Earth germinated. And while the passion and attention to detail bore fruit to a massively lucrative franchise and a final installment that swept up 11 Academy Awards without peer, it is important to look back and acknowledge "The Fellowship of the Ring" and its vital function in the trilogy.

In "Two Towers," the visual arc noticeably shifts to a darker, grittier and more industrial landscape in light of the events. The significance of the beginning, then, is that its visual execution establishes the stakes entailed in losing the war. "The Fellowship of the Ring" fundamentally sets the bar, emotionally sustains the story and acts as the continual reference point of the goal and journey. From the green innocence of the Shire to the fading light of an autumnal Rivendell and the quiet fragile glow of Lothlorien, the panoramic and aerial reveals are not only reflections of Middle-Earth's beauty, but reinforces and acts as a reminder and driving force for the rest of the series.

The Shire (top), Rivendell (middle) and Lothlorien (bottom).