"The Great Gatsby" is undoubtedly one of the great American novels of the 20th century. Its complex narrative of the faltering American dream presents a portrait of an increasingly disillusioned world that continues to have ramifications in the modern world. While its current adaptation for the cinematic medium presents no surprise, the choice of director could have many spectators worried. However, the current Warner Brothers adaptation of the wondrous novel is a fascinating display of the cinematic brilliance.
Australia auteur Baz Luhrmann often gets criticized for his flamboyant, almost bombastic style that can overwhelm the content of each of his films. A great description of his style is that it is too loud, both visually and aurally, making it difficult to wade through his often indulgent and emphatic imagery. However, Luhrmann manages to strike a powerful balance in "Gatsby." The film is laden with slow-motion, brilliant colors, and absorbing music, but the use of it steadily decreases as the picture develops. At the start of the film, viewers will bear witness to pomp and circumstance of all kinds, whether it be the introduction of a central figure or a massive party in Gatsby's castle with its thousands of party goers. One particular scene showcases Nick Carraway (Tobey Maguire) partying in a hotel room with Tom Buchanan (Joel Edgerton), his lover, and a few of their friends. Despite the compressed spacing and minimal attendants, Luhrmann places the viewer in a bright red room where every decoration is vivid and saturated. The characters engage in a fantastical orgy with the entire room being turned inside out. All the while, Luhrmann showcases loud hip-hop music, slow-motion, dissolves, and all sorts of camera angles. Daisy's (Carrie Mulligan) first appearance is romanticism at its height. As Nick enters the room to meet her, he finds himself in a space filled with floating veils; amidst this quasi-angelic aura appears the fragile female protagonist. In a later scene at Gatsby's house, Luhrmann turns up the ante by having fireworks, dancers, and an orchestral fanfare that reaches fever-pitch the moment it introduces the story's enigmatic title character. It is at this point that the pomp and circumstance reaches its climax; it slowly recedes into the background to focus on its intimate portrait of unhappy humans. While the parties are clearly empty displays, their absence only serves to further emphasize the vacuum that its central characters live in. The fact that Luhrmann's style also quiets down, only emphasizes the silence and colorlessness of the world of the story.
Despite its ultimately tragic conclusion, the film is rife with comic moments. In one scene Gatsby and Nick await the arrival of Daisy in the latter's small cottage. The room is oversaturated with flowers of all sorts and a nervous Gatsby looks about anxiously. In one moment he asks Nick if he has littered the room with too many flowers. Nick hesitates momentarily and responds, "I think it's what you wanted."
Many might have issues with the central romance between Gatsby and Daisy and its rushed presentation. The two characters see one another after five years and Luhrmann immediately has them engaged in secretive conversation. Moments later, the lovers and Nick are parading through Gatsby's castle and all seems right in the world. A montage indicates that the two are having an affair and from there the film moves rapidly into its final act and its confrontations. The viewer never gets the sense that this romance is alive and vital, but there is an artistic defense for the somewhat superficial treatment. The romance has always come from Gatsby's imagination and the reality is that it never had the same value for Daisy. The viewer sees and feels the emptiness of the "romance (Nick's view is after all our own)," making Gatsby's insistence all the more pathetic and tragic. Luhrmann does not attempt to manipulate the audience into feeling for the romance; he wants the viewer to understand immediately that there never was a true love story between these two characters.
Luhrmann also attempts to inject the film with racial undertones. During the aforementioned orgy scene, Nick looks across to an opposing apartment building and sees black characters engaging in their everyday life. Later on, he sees a white man driving a festive group of African Americans. In some instances it seems as if he were trying to portray the equality of the booming world, but the theme gets abandoned halfway through the film and never really develops fully.
Leonardo DiCaprio delivers a towering performance as the mysterious Gatsby. Upon meeting him, he is a suave and commanding. He says all the right things, acts the right way, and has a smile that tells the viewer that this is a man in complete control. However, this figure slowly erodes as the "romance' with Daisy develops and the powerful figure transforms into a brooding one. In the aforementioned flower scene, DiCaprio looks about frantically; he looks like a schoolboy about to ask a girl out for the first time. He begs Daisy to talk to her husband and in one confrontational scene he loses his cool and gives into animalistic instincts. This proves to be the crucial scene and the one that lifts the façade; at his core, this "heroic" figure is as base and violent as they come. In one of his final scenes, Gatsby hides in some bushes and looks about frantically; his nervous fidgeting and errant looks hint at a crazed lunatic.
Carrie Mulligan's Daisy proves to be the true mystery of the film. She is a fragile character early on, but an easily impressionable one. She smiles and tries to be accommodating. However, as her love affair with Gatsby intensifies, her joviality and warmth is overtaken by a tense coolness. In the aforementioned pivotal scene, Mulligan's Daisy fights to retain control but slowly falls apart in front of both men. She's unable to decide to go with and is constantly seeking out the one in control of the situation. In that moment, Mulligan reveals the essence of an imprisoned woman simply looking for the man that suits her best; she is not thinking about love, she is thinking about freedom.
Tobey Maguire's Nick Carraway starts off aloof and childlike. His optimistic enthusiasm and naivety gives the film its sunny ambience. As the drama thickens, his character turns into the most controlled. His probing eyes reflect those of the audience; his early cluelessness is our own and his eventual empathy for others is also the audiences.
Joel Edgerton's introduction of Tom is almost theatrical. He is filled with big gestures and a loud voice. It relates Tom's attempts at aristocratic grandeur and control. When that sense of security erodes, Edgerton becomes more internal, his menacing glares suggesting his simmering pot ready to explode when it boils.
This film is shot in 3D, but as is usually the case, it is recommendable to skip paying extra money for an effect that ultimately becomes pointless. The viewer might enjoy some of the depth created in wide imagery (the length of the bay that opens and closes the film), but once the close-ups come to dominate the visual grammar, the effect becomes distracting and degrading. As already stated, 3D works with imagery containing great depth; close-ups are intended for the completely opposite purpose. They have shallow depth and have a very specific visual focus. The 3D on close-ups emphasizes the artificiality of the effect as it emphasizes the two-dimensional plane of the image. Faces look like cardboard cutouts amidst an imperceptible space.
"The Great Gatsby's" opulent style will surely deter a number of viewers in the early stages, but those patient enough to sit through its bombastic opening act will find a nuanced portrayal of one of America's great novels.