Atonement (Decca) Composer Dario Marianelli displays a touch of the poet in his use of typewriter keys as a percussion instrument, not just as some exotic accent but as a telling entry point to this sadly romantic score. Reteamed with pianist Jean-Yves Thibaudet, his collaborator on 2005's Pride & Prejudice (also for director Joe Wright), Marianelli illuminates the shadowy universe of the imagination and real-world heartbreaks with sweeping grace; "Elegy for Dunkirk" and "The Cottage on the Beach" paint particularly vivid musical portraits. Rarely has the power of the written word been so potently conveyed by strings, piano and percussion.

The Unknown Woman (Outsider Pictures) Befitting a film about a little-known mystery from World War II-era Italy, Ennio Morricone's magnificent score for Giuseppe Tornatore's The Unknown Woman, or La Sconosciuta, is rife with piano phrases posed like questions, violins quivering with dread, portentous kettle drums and passages suggesting violence and secrecy. There are also sweeter, more hopeful melodies that counterpoint those percussive storms. The tension sparking between those different sections —dark and light, external fury and internal quiet, the known and the unknown — makes the music compelling and more than a little disturbing. They also underscore the mastery of Morricone's compositions; they're a clinic on the intricately detailed art of movie music.

There Will Be Blood (Nonesuch) Radiohead guitarist Jonny Greenwood puts aside his axe for his fantastic orchestral score for Paul Thomas Anderson's film, but not his predilection for music that tingles the hairs on the back of your neck, and finds beauty in despair and the darker side of human nature. Radiohead fans should recognize thematic similarities, even though the music here is far quieter, and strings and woodwinds do the heavy lifting instead of electric guitars and drums. Come Halloween, just spin this if you want to scare all the trick-or-treaters.

Once (Canvasback/ Columbia) Sheer, unpretentious simplicity earned John Carney's indie flick raves far beyond the art-house circle, and Glen Hansard's music is similarly humble but winning. Whether strumming acoustic guitar and singing in an affecting falsetto or harmonizing with piano-playing Markéta Irglová, his costar in the film, Hansard creates honest folk-rock more subdued than his work with Irish rock band the Frames (although it would be fun to hear them rev up "Broken Hearted Hoover Fixer Sucker Guy"). Hansard's music dwells more on sorrow than hope, but "Falling Slowly" was the most uplifting downbeat love song of the year.

The Great Debaters (Atlantic) Soul diva Sharon Jones (who also has a small role in the film), bluesman Alvin Youngblood Hart and old-time ensemble Carolina Chocolate Drops feature prominently in this excellent, astutely chosen collection of gospel, blues and jazz tunes that's admirably true to the film's 1935 setting. Jones injects plenty of Saturday night sass into chestnuts like "It's Tight Like That" before taking it to church with Billy Rivers & the Angelic Voices of Faith, and Hart does some convincing gospel roof-raising too. David Berger & the Sultans of Swings also contribute some clarinet-tooting jazz evocative of the era. Most importantly, it's all eminently — and repeatedly — listenable.

Sea of Dreams (Varese Sarabande) Winner of the Best Soundtrack No One Heard sweepstakes, Argentinean composer Luis Bacalov's entrancing music conveys the myth, mystery and romance of José Bojorquez's little-seen film. Bacalov, who won an Oscar in 1995 for his score for Il Postino, deftly weaves sweet interludes of pan pipes, acoustic guitar, accordion and Latin folk music into his melodic orchestral score, counterbalancing moments of yearning with celebratory joy. The results are touching and frequently gorgeous.

Into the Wild (J Records) As chronicled in Jon Krakauer's bestseller and Sean Penn's film, Christopher McCandless' exhilarating journey into the American wilderness yields provocative — and quintessentially American — themes consistent with Eddie Vedder's music with Pearl Jam: existential questioning, societal discontent, the search for true freedom and spiritual wealth. Here Vedder applies his howling baritone and acoustic guitar, banjo and ukulele to an ongoing contemplative reverie interrupted only by a rocking cover of Indio's anthemic "Hard Sun," with harmonies by Sleater-Kinney's Corin Tucker. Clocking in at a mere thirty-three minutes, it's too short by far, but then, brevity suits the subject.

La Vie En Rose (EMI) Organized in three sections, La Vie en Rose is a treat for Edith Piaf fans, not because it offers a choice selection of the legendary French singer's songs — which it does, although Piaf compilations are readily available elsewhere — but because it packages them with Christopher Gunning's piano-centered score and gutsy performances by Jil Aigrot, Maya Barsoni and Mistinguett of Piaf recordings that couldn't be included. Gunning's instrumental tracks elegantly maintain the heightened emotional drama emblematic of Piaf's era and music, thereby presenting "La Môme" in a more detailed context that provides insight into the allure of such an unlikely icon.

Control (Rhino) Get set for some time traveling. The music for director Anton Corbijn's biopic of doomed Joy Division frontman Ian Curtis is a handy introduction to Joy Division's '70s influences — Velvet Underground, David Bowie, the Buzzcocks, Kraftwerk, Roxy Music, Iggy Pop — as well as the brooding rock phoenix that rose from the band's ashes, New Order. Joy Division's signature hit "Love Will Tear Us Apart" is featured, as well as "Atmosphere" and a terrific cast version of "Transmission." With so much gloom and despair it's not recommended if you've been contemplating a dive out your high-rise window, but give it a spin if you're keen to revisit post-punk's heyday.

The Hottest State (Hickory) There were a surprising number of lo-fi indie-rock soundtracks this year, but director Ethan Hawke's decision to only use songs written by Jesse Harris gives this one a vibey consistency that puts it over the top. Singers' singers giving interpretive spins to Harris' dreamy oeuvre include Feist, Emmylou Harris, Norah Jones, Willie Nelson and Cat Power, with livelier interludes coming from the Black Keys, Bright Eyes, Brad Mehldau and M. Ward. That wide range in performers adds stylistic diversity to the music, helping it sidestep the preciousness of, say, Sondre Lerche's music for Dan in Real Life, and the more tone-deaf moments in Juno, while maintaining thematic cohesion. It also makes this one good companion for late nights spent alone.

Lady Chatterley (Milan) Composer Béatrice Thiriet's lush score for this 2006 Best Film César winner (it wasn't released in the United States until 2007) nicely captures the feel of the story's 1921 English setting, and also offers some of the most bittersweet orchestral music to have graced a theatre all year. Based on a lesser-known version of D.H. Lawrence's classic novel, Lady Chatterley is as rawly sensual as it is romantic, and Thiriet's incorporation of natural sounds — birds, thunder, rain — underscores the earthiness that grounds the story's worldview and the relationship between its lead characters. Her music is anything but corset-bound.

Lust, Caution (Decca) Although he's once again crafting music for an Asian setting — in this case, Shanghai during World War II — composer Alexandre Desplat takes a subtler approach to Ang Lee's Lust, Caution than he did to 2006's The Painted Veil. While similarly restrained, this score is less taut, more rueful and genteel, structured around waltzes, circular cues and a resonant piano that emerges from stately whirls of strings like a melancholy seer. It's sad, yet piercingly lovely — a combination that's fast become a Desplat trademark.

Joe Strummer: The Future is Unwritten (Legacy) The late, much lamented Strummer was hugely influential, and not only because he fronted the Clash — a fact smartly reflected in the musical choices made for Julien Temple's film. There are three previously unreleased tracks by the Clash, plus two from Strummer and the Mescaleros, but the joy of this twenty-five-track platter is that it reflects Strummer's burning curiosity about all kinds of music, from slippery R&B and rockabilly (Elvis Presley, Eddie Cochran) to rock, folk, ska and world beats (MC5, Tim Hardin, Nina Simone, Woody Guthrie, U-Roy, Ernest Raglin, Andres Landeros, Rachid Taha). By including those other artists, it gets closer to the passion that defined Strummer himself.

I'm Not There (Columbia) How many different ways can you interpret Dylan? Sounds like a college philosophy exercise, or maybe just a koan scribbled on studio walls while making this sprawling two-disc excursion into the musical truth inside the elusive rocker's legend. It's kind of a glorious mess, with some too-literal recreations offset by looser renditions that channel Dylan more truthfully by straying further from the parameters of his original performances. Everyone's bound to have their own favorite sacred cow amongst Dylan's prodigious oeuvre, but Jim James & Calexico, Stephen Malkmus, Yo La Tengo, Richie Havens, Cat Power, John Doe, the Black Keys, Willie Nelson, Tom Verlaine, Los Lobos, Iron & Wine, Jeff Tweedy, Mark Lanegan, the Hold Steady, Jack Johnson, Charlotte Gainsbourg, Mason Jennings, Bob Forrest, Antony & the Johnsons admirably burrow into the spirit of a troubadour who may — or may not — transcend the bonds of time and physics.

Sweeney Todd (Nonesuch) Stephen Sondheim's brilliant score for Sweeney Todd survives the long-anticipated transition to the big screen with its operatic glory intact, although purists will find certain adjustments unsettling. Onscreen, Johnny Depp and Helena Bonham Carter, excellent actors both, deliver the goods. But the adjustments made to accommodate their limited vocal ranges make listening to the soundtrack a somewhat less satisfying experience. Still, it's Sondheim, one of Broadway's greatest innovators — and Sweeney Todd still stands as one of the most original theatrical productions of the last thirty years.

Strange Weirdos: Music From and Inspired by the Film Knocked Up (Concord) The title's confusing: this is music from Judd Apatow's comedy Knocked Up, but it's named after one of Loudon Wainwright III's songs about the two leads. And "Strange Weirdos" is a truthful knockout, delivered with Wainwright's trademark blend of pungency and unfuzzy sentiment. Written and produced by Wainwright and Joe Henry, this is intelligent, expertly crafted pop for grownups that you can listen to (and sing along with) again and again.

Black Snake Moan (New West) Samuel L. Jackson can't really sing, but no matter; he nails the essential feel of the blues on his four tracks here, channeling the dark intensity that electrified the blues of north Mississippi hill country legends R.L. Burnside and Junior Kimbrough. And it's that raw, primal vibe that permeates Black Snake Moan, with Jackson and composer Scott Bomar serving as occasional links between stomping tracks from Burnside, the Black Keys, North Mississippi AllStars, Bobby Rush, John Doe, Jessie May Hemphill, Outrageous Cherry and Precious Bryant. Forget those secondhand Keef riffs passed off as blues on beer commercials; this is the real deal.

Eastern Promises (Sony Classical) Whereas composer Howard Shore's 2005 collaboration with director David Cronenberg, A History of Violence, seemed informed by classic American music, Eastern Promises draws from Russian folk melodies and instrumentation. And while the dramatic tension of History of Violence was occasionally released in explosive crescendos, the passions in Eastern Promises largely stay coiled in the shadows. Backed by the London Philharmonic Orchestra, conducted by Shore, violinist Nicola Benedetti's solos ("Tatiana" and "Nine Elms" are particularly eloquent) give mournful voice to Shore's tightly focused theme: the struggle between human nature's better angels and darker impulses.

Reservation Road (Lakeshore): In stark contrast to the hellish fury and grief unleashed in Terry George's film, composer Mark Isham's ethereal score is cool, carefully constructed and contained — and beautiful. It's like an extended mood piece, with each track sliding into the next amid plangent tones sounded by bassoon, cello, clarinet and most frequently, a lone piano. This is music for private rumination (obsession, perhaps?), maybe even a midnight stroll. Just don't go alone.

The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford (Warner Bros.) It should come as no surprise to fans of alt-rock cult hero Nick Cave's Murder Ballads that his collaboration with violinist Warren Ellis provides suitably foreboding accompaniment to director Andrew Dominik's myth-debunking vision of outlaw Jesse James. Eschewing the familiar anthemic approach of more hero-worshipping Westerns, Cave and Ellis focus on old-timey violins, droning tones, plaintive guitar and cello evocative of the post-Civil War times in which James achieved notoriety. Eloquent but simple, the music suggests hard rain, dark times, darker choices and lives forever freighted with loss.

Honeydripper (Rhino) Set in backwoods Alabama circa 1950, John Sayles' script for Honeydripper borrows lyrics and backstories of real-life musicians, not to mention several bona fide blues artists who appear on the soundtrack, including onetime Stax recording artist Mable John, Keb' Mo' and Texas guitarist Gary Clark, Jr. Even the newly recorded tracks sound dusty as the real thing; you can practically hear the grit scraping against the microphone. With tracks from Hank Williams, Memphis Slim, Lil' Green, Barrence Whitfield, the New Beginning Ministry and the late, great Ruth Brown, the music evokes that creatively fruitful period when boogie-woogie roadhouse piano was giving way to electric guitar and blues birthed a baby: Hail, hail, rock 'n' roll.

The Kite Runner (Edge Music) Just as he drew on African music to enhance his score for 2005's The Constant Gardener, composer Alberto Iglesias incorporates Afghani instrumentation, styles and artists (Ahmad Zahir and Ehsan Aman) into his richly textured score for The Kite Runner, which ranges from the light-hearted cheer of "Kite Shop" and organ-pumping carnival atmosphere of "Tanha Shudam Tanha" to the quieter, ney- and violin-plucked tension of "Russians Invade" and almost mystical force and chants of the closing "Supplication," featuring British-Iranian vocalist Sami Yusuf. Vividly cinematic, it speaks to music's universality, and its power to illuminate emotional subtexts in film.

American Gangster (Def Jam) Vintage soul and R&B tracks from Sam & Dave, the Staple Singers, John Lee Hooker, Lowell Fulson and Bobby Womack handily capture the gritty '70s milieu in which American Gangster takes place, although fans of the film are rightly miffed that the soundtrack is missing songs that are present in the film. But add contemporary tracks from undersung soul man Anthony Hamilton and versatile hip-hop producer Hank Shocklee that sport enough groove grease and analog crackle to sound like they've been cooking in the studio since 1973, and you've got a platter that's a welcome addition to the soul revival that's shaking up the pop landscape.

Gone Baby Gone (Hollywood Records) Harry Gregson-Williams is often called on for music that conjures other periods and places (e.g., The Chronicles of Narnia, Kingdom of Heaven). But here his otherworldly score amplifies the deepening dread of a story rooted in a rough Boston neighborhood where a child's gone missing and all the fixed moral compass points are spinning. It isn't necessary to have seen the film in order to be transported — and moved — by the soundscape of strings, solo piano, electronic effects and subtle percussion. It's moody, and there's no escaping a heavy sense of loss until Lisbeth Scott's ethereal soprano wafts in like a beam of light during the closing track. But it's beautiful.

The Darjeeling Limited (Fox Music) The music here is, as with all of Wes Anderson's films, a reflection of his taste; it also sets the scene for a kinetic road trip that's not quite what it seems to be at first with liberal doses of music from the films of Satyajit Ray. Most interesting, however, are traditional, noncinematic tracks like the Jodphur Sikh Temple Congregation's tambourine-accented "Prayer" and Narlai Village Troubadour's "Memorial." Listeners' appreciation is likely to depend on their tolerance for Indian movie music and obscure Brit-pop, but — as with Anderson's films — it's definitely a personal statement.