By Amanda Ack, Film Critic
The best parts of The Great Gatsby happen when Baz Luhrmann goes full Luhrmann. If you’re familiar with his previous work (Moulin Rouge and Romeo + Juliet, for example) you know what I mean by “full Luhrmann”: flashy, campy, and with absolutely no regard for realism or historical context. Unfortunately, in Gatsby’s case, the storytelling doesn’t quite live up to the spectacle, making for an uneven cinematic experience
Anyone who’s taken a high school English class is familiar with the film’s story, taken from F. Scott Fitzgerald’s novel of the same name: in 1922, young would-be writer Nick Carraway (Tobey Maguire) leaves his Midwestern home and travels to New York, where he winds up in a house next door to mysterious millionaire Jay Gatsby (Leonardo DiCaprio). Soon, Nick finds himself sucked in to Gatsby’s world of glamour and depravity.
The most troubling problem with Mr. Luhrmann’s adaptation of Fitzgerald’s tale is that he feels the need to slap on a preposterous framing device. Nick isn’t narrating the story, he’s writing it – in a sanatorium, no less – and we see the story as he’s working through it for his own therapeutic purposes. It’s not only an unnecessary addition, it’s a mammoth waste of time, and the film’s pacing suffers greatly for it.
In fact, basically anything related to the actual adaptation of Fitzgerald’s work is terribly clunky. It’s a shame, because the film looks and sounds fantastic, right down to the wildly anachronistic soundtrack.
What’s less effective is the casting. Mr. DiCaprio seems the ideal choice to play Gatsby, but he allows the character’s insecurities to float too close to the surface at all times, giving him a permanent scared-little-boy air that quickly grows tiresome.
Mr. Maguire suffers from being profoundly uninteresting. Since Nick isn’t exactly the star of the show to begin with, the actor playing the role must possess a certain magnetism, which the squishy-faced Mr. Maguire sorely lacks. He’s simply not compelling enough to pay attention to, and he disappears amidst the film’s chaos.
As for the rest of the cast, they perform no better than adequately. Carey Mulligan’s “Daisy Buchanan” is a simpering idiot, which I suspect is more due to Luhrmann’s ham-handed adaptation than the actress’ own failure. Likewise, Joel Edgerton’s “Tom Buchanan,” brutishly handsome though he is, feels a little too heavy for the rest of the film.
Surprisingly, it is newcomer Elizabeth Debicki who serves as the cast’s one bright spot. As “Jordan Baker,” she is effortlessly lovely, settling into the film’s style without overplaying it as Ms. Mulligan does.
Gatsby is worth seeing, if only for the stellar visuals and fabulous soundtrack. I suggest checking your brain at the door, though.
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