When Baz Luhrmann announced that he was
adapting the American literary classic The Great Gatsby,
anticipation and skepticism abounded in equal measure. Would the
Aussie auteur's in-your-face-stylistics be the right fit for the F.
Scott Fitzgerald's subtext and symbolism? An unexpected schedule
change that shifted its release date from the thick of last year's
awards season to a less crowded May 2013 slot only heightened the
nervous curiosity. The production became enshrouded in as many
rumours and unsure whisperings as the mysterious titular antihero of
the novel itself.
And that's the early point at which the measured introspection ceases. Through flashback, Luhrmann hurtles us head-first into Nick's initiation into the party lifestyle of Manhattan's wealthy socialites. With the post-war economy booming and prohibition invigorating the illegal liquor industry, Nick is seduced by all manner of intoxicated orgies and wild ragers, including one hosted by his neighbour, Jay Gatsby. Though he hides himself from the public eye behind his ostentatious Xanadu on Long Island, Gatbsy is in the habit of throwing decadent parties for all the city to attend.
Luhrmann's trademark style is at its
most effective when capturing this world's vulgar, superfluous
luxuries. The colourful opulence of Catherine Martin's sets and
costumes, the frenzied camera movements and hyperactive cutting, the
multiple personalities of the era-mashing soundtrack, and even the 3D
(itself, a superfluous luxury) all culminate in a sensational soiree
that make it plain why they were called the “Roaring” 20s.
While everyone else staggers home at
night's end, only Nick comes to meet Gatsby, befriend him, and
eventually learn the millionaire's true aim: to lure over and win
back the love of Daisy (Carey Mulligan), the sweetheart who he left
hanging years ago so he could go off and make his fortune. Since
remarried to the aggressive and philandering Tom Buchanan (Joel
Edgerton), Daisy naturally finds herself torn. Can money really buy
Gatsby the love of his idealized woman? Can the obscenely rich really
get away with playing by different rules than the other 99%?
This iconic book has inspired yet
eluded filmmakers before, and unfortunately, the same proves true
with this edition. Fitzgerald's subtle indictment of capitalism,
class, and the American Dream can scarcely survive Luhrmann's blitz
of sights and sounds. One wishes he had included more scenes without
the ubiquitous music or dizzying flare, to serve as oases of calm
amidst his endless assault on the senses. These were sorely needed to
moderate the pace and tone of the story, but are unfortunately few
and far between. In spite of (or perhaps because of) its exhausting
pace, the movie inevitably feels like it runs long.
Luhrmann and co-writer Craig Pearce
also struggle with points of reference as far as narration goes. For
a screenplay that commits so literally to Nick Carroway as narrator,
it makes little sense to indulge in flashbacks of events for which he
was not present. A minor quibble to be sure, but it kinda removes the
subjectivity from the voyeurism which is one of the novel's key
thematic bases.
Since Luhrmann is clearly the star of
this picture, its hard to say any of the cast really stand out. But
if any one of them can make that claim it's DiCaprio. He continues to
prove himself an actor capable of not only slipping into minds of
enigmatic characters, but into the directorial visions of auteur
filmmakers. He affords himself more animated mannerisms and
stylization here than we usually see from him, keeping with
Luhrmann's kinetic sensibilities.
So it's a film not without its
strengths, but ultimately, it feels as though Luhrmann's lavish
efforts – like Gatsby's – were sincere but misplayed. Maybe the
next time someone takes a crack at Gatsby we'll actually be
able to call it Great.
**1/2 out of ****
