I grew up on Long Island, so it was inevitable that one of the books I would be forced to read for English class was "The Great Gatsby," F. Scott Fitzgerald's critique on mindless extravagance and tribute to forbidden love set amongst the ultra-rich neighborhoods of the Gold Coast. Unlike most of the over-analyzed dreck that I was assigned, I loved "Gatsby." It was beautiful and subtle in ways that most books could only dream of and I reread it immediately after upon finishing.
In fact, I love the book so much that I don't know what to make of its latest film adaptation, a hyperkinetic and over-stylized take on the best contender for the Great American Novel.
Set on Long Island in the peak of the Jazz Age, Nick Carraway (Tobey Maguire), finds himself caught up in the extravagance of the era from his job as a bond trader and through the social company of his cousin Daisy (Carey Mulligan) and her boorish husband, Tom Buchanan (Joel Edgerton). He finds himself increasingly drawn to his mysterious neighbor, Jay Gatsby (Leonardo DiCaprio), a man who drowns himself in extravagance in hopes of reuniting with Daisy, the woman he fell in love with when he was a penniless soldier five years before.
"Gatsby" has been adapted a few times before, but each has been met with tepid to terrible reviews, leading many to proclaim it as the ultimate unfilmable novel. However, as Hollywood has proven time and time again, nothing is unfilmable.
So how does this version compare to its predecessors? As I sit here writing, I find myself vacillating between feeling disappointed and impressed because I simply don't know what to make of it. Is it a faithful adaptation of the novel? Is it perverted, yet somehow enhanced, with music from Jay-Z and Lana Del Rey? Does it miss some important points Fitzgerald was trying to make? Infuriatingly, the answer to all these, and every other constructive question you could possibly have about the film, is "yes," which makes it even harder to decide whether this is the adaptation that the novel deserves.
Before I go any further, let's have a talk about director Baz Luhrmann,the man behind the genre-bending "Romeo + Juliet" and "Moulin Rouge!" His style is gaudy, extravagant, anachronistic and as subtle as a bag of bricks going through your living room window. Hell, his real name is Max, but he insists on going by his more eccentric moniker. As such, the announcement that he was adapting the film was divisive. On one hand, many thought that he would completely butcher the novel. On the other, wouldn't he be the perfect man to illustrate the decadence Fitzgerald meant to portray?
As I mentioned earlier, Luhrmann somehow manages to do both. He films Gatsby's parties with a sensationalism that makes Quentin Tarantino look boring. However, Luhrmann does this at the cost of the novel's themes. If you've never read the book, the criticism of the upper class would seem like a weird deus ex machina rather than a full-fledged motif that comes and goes throughout the narrative.
Luhrmann's stylistic flair fails him terribly in "Gatsby." It works for something like "Romeo + Juliet" because the latter is the epitome of a tale told in the grand narrative. The story of boy and girl who fall in love and can never be together is so malleable that it could be dropped into any setting and still work well, as evidenced by derivatives like "West Side Story" and "Gnomeo and Juliet." "Gatsby," on the other hand, is wedded to its setting and historical context. You cannot have Gatsby without the roaring '20s, or the story will lose its soul.
And it's a shame, because the film has everything else going for it as well. The sets are gorgeous, especially in 3D, Carraway's narration is invigorated with a unique twist, and the actors are perfect. DiCaprio, Mulligan and Maguire are their characters, embodying every flaw, every dream and every nuance. Edgerton is the real standout here, as a quality that can only be described as "bastard" flows through him.
I must admit that part of my ambivalence toward "Gatsby" stems in part from the behavior of the man sitting next to me in the theater. This reaction to the movie indicated to me that he had no idea what was going to happen next, especially when he looked shocked after the action literally comes crashing down. I envied him not only because he got to experience "Gatsby" for the first time, but because he had nothing to compare it to. In the end, I realize that I don't think I, or anyone for that matter, will ever be completely happy with any adaptation. More than any other book, it means something different to all of us, and one person's interpretation will never be good enough to do it justice.
"Gatsby" is currently playing at the Nugget.
