'The Great Gatsby' - Movie Review

Some call it the "Great American Novel", and yet the author never saw any of its success. In fact, after its first round of printing, Gatsby met its temporary demise as only 3,000 more copies were produced before the novel was cast into the world of literary gloom. New York's World newspaper reported it as a - "Dud" - and Fitzgerald would write to a mate, "Of all the reviews, even the most enthusiastic, not one had the slightest idea what the book was about." (It has been said that before Fitzgerald died in 1940, the author himself bought copies of the novel... just to generate some sale figures.)

Yet this initial criticism isn't the main problem I have with the title - "The Great American Novel" - my problem is in the title itself. Is it an "American" novel? Well, yes, but the themes and ideas behind it are certainly not reserved for Americans.

I can remember reading Gatsby for the first time when I was 15, living in Holland and feeling the pains of the dreaded teenage years. It was an overcast, grey Dutch day when I first opened the book. I was sitting out in the back grounds of The American School of The Hague waiting for a rather formidable pack of bullies to leave so I could go home. Yes, I was one of those teenagers. So, instead of facing my fears and walking by the bullies, I sat on a frosty bench and poured through The Great Gatsby. A week later I strode into Mrs. Mack's Year 10 English class and told her, "This is the best book I've ever read... twice!" 

In Gatsby I found the man who encapsulated everything I wanted. My 'Daisy' was half way around the world and I had a chip on my shoulder since Dad's job had shipped us to Holland. I was miserable, but I was dreaming a great (American) dream. And so it goes, whilst I was dreaming my dream, Gatsby entered from stage right. 

In The Great Gatsby I also found a thrill and a lesson. A thrill - that I could try and recapture the joys I had once experienced while living in the warm, (expat) oasis of Malaysia. And a lesson - that the past cannot be repeated and it's not in the world, nor the people around me, that I find my worth. Rather I am esteemed by something higher - or I should say someone higher - along the lines of a certain oculist in Gatsby. 

Baz Luhrmann's The Great Gatsby is the fourth silver-screen adaption of Fitzgerald's novel. The novel was first made into a feature film in 1926, when Herbert Brenon sought to bring the glitz of the 1920s to the big screen. The second adaption was released in 1949, as Elliot Nugent set out to explore Fitzgerald's subtly suggested truths (and lies) surrounding the millionaire Jay Gatsby. This is an interesting adaption, but it's primarily weakened by a script which fails to encapsulate the time period and contrast it with the tragic hero.

Next up was the first true and faithful adaption in 1974. Made by celebrated British filmmaker Jack Clayton, this adaption (written by Godfather extraordinaire Francis Ford Coppola) featured a star studded cast - led by Hollywood golden boy Robert Redford as Gatsby and the gorgeous Mia Farrow as Daisy. But while big names took on Clayton's project the film failed to throw any punches and instead chose to curl up at the feet of Fitzgerald and purr quietly. But if Clayton's film was a reflection of a safe adaption, then Baz Lurhmann's Gatsby is the first adaption which has dramatically blown the lid off the casket.

We know what to expect from Baz, right? Glitz and heavy Broadway glamour. So it's no surprise that this is what we'd call the melodramatic version of the bunch. One also can't help but wonder if Baz just wants to be the star of his films - even if he isn't seen in the flesh.

  

Depending on who you ask, Baz's (left) adaption has cost somewhere between $100-150 million

The film is enveloped in Nick Carraway's (Tobey Maguire) narration, only with a new twist - Nick's narration comes from a sanatorium in Chicago. It appears Nick is suffering from the same ill effects of the 1920s as Fitzgerald did (both being alcoholics). And so Nick is told to "write" out his problems to heal his aching heart, mind and soul. This was slightly cringeworthy, and this cringeworthy decision was amplified when Luhrmann decided to show Fitzgerald's actual lines on the screen (in an alphabet soup style). But even if it isn't the start we would've hoped for, its not worth walking out on. So we press on to hear the unreliable narrator's story of Jay Gatsby.

When Fitzgerald sent Edith Wharton a copy of The Great Gatsby in 1925, his peer sent a response of wonderment and praise for how Fitzgerald was able to define modernity. Wharton also commented about an early scene, which Luhrmann uses to thrust the 1920s into our senses, the New York City apartment scene. Wharton described the scene as a "seedy orgy", and Luhrmann captures this in a visually explicit manner. It was a whirlwind moment in the movie; accented by the blasts of a rooftop sax player, who appeared to be a poor man's Clarence Clemons rather than a 1920s jazz swing man. Thus the scene is more a blur of hedonism rather than a stab at the falseness of society which Fitzgerald was pointing out. 

And you can't help but wonder if this visual whirlwind depicts the filmmaker's desire to attract the youth of today rather than recreate the Gatsby story. As a New Yorker columnist wrote, "Luhrmann's vulgarity is designed to win over the young audience, and it suggests that he's less a filmmaker than a music-video director with endless resources and a stunning absence of taste." 

Yet once this pivotal apartment scene fades, and more importantly the second half of the film begins its course, Lurhmann's film becomes palatable. It's almost as if in the first half Baz just wants you to acknowledge his glitzy 3D party, before sitting back down in the second half to take in a spellbinding story. 

Carey Mulligan told Empire magazine that the eccentric Aussie filmmaker "captured the frenzy of the 1920s, and [that] if anyone knows how to tell a story, it's Baz". And here in lies the truth about how we can enjoy this adaption: shut away your literary-policeman and just go along for the ride.

Question: Who looks good in a pink suit?!

Robert Redford

Pink Panther

Leonardo DiCaprio

How does this guy do it? He's pushing 40 and still has some of that innocence and (boyhood) charm we saw in his first film under Baz, Romeo + Juliet (1996). Not only does DiCaprio pull off the pink suit in this one but he achieves what Robert Redford never could in creating an overwhelming aura to go with the character of Jay Gatsby. Yes, this guy stood out no matter who he was standing next to (except perhaps Meyer Wolfsheim who somehow morphed from a Jewish gangster into a Bollywood actor - but we'll get to that). 

A superb entrance, old sport!

Gatsby's entrance is fitting for a man who is the walking metaphor of hope and greed. And come on - how 'bout that smile!  Book lovers all around the world must've been transported back to that moment when Gatsby first gripped them.

Unfortunately, my pale brother-from-another-mother, Tobey Maguire, never seems to consistently hit the right note as Gatsby's less-dapper chum. Sure, he's cute in his pursuit of the party host - what with his neat little invitation and all - but overall I prefer the fury eyebrows of the inquisitive Sam Waterston to this more dramatic version of Nick. Margaret Pomeranz (At the Movies) describes Maguire as "boring", and while he's more animated as Nick than past portrayals, he is in an odd way boring.

Carey Mulligan makes an exquisite entrance in a scene which has forever been locked away in a vault called Literary Perfection. With just a flutter of her hand we are introduced to the finest specimen to ever hail from Louisville, Kentucky - Daisy Buchanan. Opposite in nearly every way to her brutish husband, Mulligan's Daisy is more cynical and forceful than was once considered kosher for the role. Perhaps not as dazzling as Daisy is intended to be, Mulligan does however give another emotional performance in this one. And in a scene to melt all hearts,  she's able to recreate, with just one look, the tension and blissful joy of being reacquainted with her past "love".

Joel Edgerton tells Empire about the pressures of making Gatsby: "I'm friends with Anthony Tambakis, who wrote Warrior, and he sent me an email warning me not to fuck up another American classic."

If there is a central villain in this tale of modernist gloom (and I sense Fitzgerald would say they are all villains in their own ways) then it's found in the double barrelled chest of Tom Buchanan. A man of proper aristocratic breeding, Tom is hell bent on destroying the world with his ridiculous views and painful attempts to be philosophic. However, with that said, Joel Edgerton nails the role which is meant to test the character of Jay Gatsby. And it's in that scene towards the end (in the hotel) where we find Tom's worth. The stage is brilliantly set for what turns out to be the best moment in the movie.

As Tom, Joel fastens himself perfectly to the mannerisms and arrogance of the upper class aristocrats of the time. He's commanding and threatening, you'll be bowled over by his ability to make a one-dimensional character work so well. My fiancé walked out of the cinema complaining that Tom was "too ugly", but that's exactly what he is meant to be: the hopeless product of the time.

Aussie newcomer Elizabeth Debicki plays the troublesome socialite well, but where was the whimsical romance?

The supporting cast doesn't deliver a whole lot. Myrtle (Isla Fisher) and Wilson (Jason Clarke)? Meh. It isn't until Meyer Wolfsheim (Amitabh Bachchan) gets on the scene that you raise an eyebrow and notice someone from the supporting cast... other than Isla Fisher's bust! Was this decision to cast an Indian actor as Fitzgerald's Jewish gangster Baz's concerted effort to not appear anti-semitic? There's two problems with this: they've kept the character's name as MEYER WOLFSHEIM, and Fitzgerald's character was actually based on a real life mobster from the period, Arnold Rothstein.

Meyer Wolfsheim's reincarnation is complete.

Visually this was impressive. The attention to detail in the costumes and settings were stunning - and Fitzgerald's East and West Eggs came off beautifully! Your jaw will drop when you catch a glimpse of the polo fields; while your senses will be titillated by the parties and the vroom-vrooms. What's also incredible is that all the filming of this iconic American story took place in Sydney, Australia.

The music was a typical Baz production - a blend of then and now. It's hard to know whether this heavy assault of sound works in the movie itself, for while the soundtrack is fantastic, only Lana Del Rey's contribution (Young and Beautiful) appeared to fit in the movie.

A visual spectacle, bar none, Gatsby delivers the pomp and excitement the '74 adaption never could. Yet there still is a bad taste in your mouth after watching this one - something just doesn't feel right. Perhaps it's impossible to adapt the heart and soul of this Great American Novel. 

6.5/10

Now let me share my favourite passage from The Great Gatsby...

I have an idea that Gatsby himself didn't believe it would come, and perhaps he no longer cared. If that was true he must have felt that he had lost the old warm world, paid a high price for living too long with a single dream. He must have looked up at an unfamiliar sky through frightening leaves and shivered as he found what a grotesque thing a rose is and how raw the sunlight was upon the scarcely created grass. A new world, material without being real, where poor ghosts, breathing dreams like air, drifted fortuitously about... like that ashen, fantastic figure gliding towards him through amorphous trees.