The Great Gatsby
Rated PG-13 for some violent images, sexual content, smoking, partying and brief language. Two hours, 23 minutes.
Publication date: Publication Date May. 10, 2013
Review by Peter Canavese
Some will thrill to Luhrmann tarting up, in the vein of his "Romeo + Juliet," F. Scott Fitzgerald's literary masterwork; others will consider the film gauche sacrilege, especially in gratuitous 3D that seems determined to turn a great American novel into a colorful pop-up book (coupled with a hip-pop soundtrack produced by Jay-Z). The truth, as usual, is somewhere between these extremes. All of Luhrmann's "Gatsby" is absurdly over-produced and most of it is supremely annoying, but much of it makes its own kind of sense as one audio-visual interpretation, expressly designed for contemporary cinematic taste, of an 88-year-old story.
As on the page, one Nick Carraway (Tobey Maguire) tells the tale, in hindsight, of his unusual friendship with nouveau riche millionaire Jay Gatsby (Leonardo DiCaprio), whose pointedly larger-than-life lifestyle suggests a uniquely American facade. Gatsby lives in the hope of reclaiming lost love Daisy Buchanan (Carey Mulligan), now married to "brute of a man" Tom Buchanan (Joel Edgerton). Their Jazz Age tale plays out in Long Island, with Gatsby's shoreside West Egg mansion positioned to longingly overlook the Buchanans' East Egg property, its dock's green beacon a symbol of Gatsby's "extraordinary gift for hope."
Unsurprisingly, Luhrmann embraces Fitzgerald's Romanticism but little of his realism, and the director's reckless-abandon style favors images and ideas over story and character. When all four elements work in concert, "The Great Gatsby" achieves flashes of pop transcendence, but Luhrmann makes the fatal error of playing more than half the film at the pitch of all-out comedy. Add Maguire doing Carraway like Peter Parker and DiCaprio busting out his bizarro "oh, this one's a period movie?" dialect (who has talked like this anywhere, ever?), and the movie loses hope of being taken seriously on dramatic terms.
When the picture does get serious too late it begins to make a case for itself (and its cast), but the damage has been done. For the drama to be effective, one must be able to buy into these characters as real people. While we can understand Gatsby as head-over-heels lover and all-American con artist, Carraway as a destined-for-disillusionment hero-worshipper, and Daisy as a tragic, tragedy-inducing wastrel, Luhrmann approaches the story and directs his actors in ways that hold them at a distance from us, making it difficult to buy into real people in a real world. The overkill plays less as bold art and more as lack of trust in the source material.
As Nick says of one of Gatsby's legendary parties, "It's like an amusement park." Exactly, old sport.