Baz Luhrmann, I may never watch a movie directed by you again. The best word for this was spoken by a friend of mine: hollow. The book by F. Scott Fitzgerald is wonderfully wrought, with some terribly tragic yet beautiful language. Luhrmann somehow manages to take Fitzgerald's work and render it cheap, trite, and cliche. Everything he does here feels heavy-handed and ridiculously over the top.
One of the heaviest offenses in this movie is the direction he takes for the narration. While the narrator in the novel is sorting through his memories, making the words seem natural and organic...the narration in the movie is dull, unnecessary, and cheesy. The narration is supposedly through the words of the protagonist who is writing them out -- making what once were beautiful words seem cheap and a contrivance. This doesn't help by the fact that Luhrmann constantly has the words physically written out on the screen, or he has moments where Tobey Maguire, the main character, pause and rearrange words to his liking. And he's often so distraught, you can't help but think he looks just like Ewan McGregor in Moulin Rouge as he sobs over his typewriter while recollecting his tragic past.
One of the heaviest offenses in this movie is the direction he takes for the narration. While the narrator in the novel is sorting through his memories, making the words seem natural and organic...the narration in the movie is dull, unnecessary, and cheesy. The narration is supposedly through the words of the protagonist who is writing them out -- making what once were beautiful words seem cheap and a contrivance. This doesn't help by the fact that Luhrmann constantly has the words physically written out on the screen, or he has moments where Tobey Maguire, the main character, pause and rearrange words to his liking. And he's often so distraught, you can't help but think he looks just like Ewan McGregor in Moulin Rouge as he sobs over his typewriter while recollecting his tragic past.
Oh God, how do you use this thing?
Furthermore, there are several moments where I wish he just wouldn't. At one point, we hear (and see) the shrill ringing of the telephone as the mistress calls Tom Buchanan, interrupting their dinner. And Luhrmann has to have this narrated: "No one could ignore the ringing of the telephone, like a fifth member of the dinner" (or something along those lines).
seriously?
The movie as a whole is too staged and too flashy, which is ironically the whole vision of the American dream within Gatsby's tale. His style, his character, and his parties are all a gaudy show hiding the dark recesses of his path to achieve it. Luhrmann seems to miss this point entirely. Instead, he goes off on what seems to be a pattern in all of his movies -- some sort of hazy, crazy distracted scene about booze, drugs, and alcohol. What...what...why?
Just to prove that he was awake during his high school English class, Luhrmann can't seem to stand the idea that we might miss a thematic idea. He has to hit us over the head with it repeatedly to make sure his dull-witted audience gets it. At one point, he has a shooting star flash across the sky when Gatsby talks about his destiny. Really? Really, Luhrmann? And it seems like he sifted through to find the most obvious tropes to go with the time period. Every single character is introduced with an overly-staged entrance, right down to using the climax of Gershwin's Rhapsody in Blue for Gatsby's key entrance. Since he seems to run out of the obvious roaring 20's music cliches, he then turns to infuse some modern music in there. And as fun as it is to hear Jay-Z rap while flappers dance across the screen, by the third installment of this combination, you begin to wonder if the rapper paid the director in some way to get endorsed so much.
Just to prove that he was awake during his high school English class, Luhrmann can't seem to stand the idea that we might miss a thematic idea. He has to hit us over the head with it repeatedly to make sure his dull-witted audience gets it. At one point, he has a shooting star flash across the sky when Gatsby talks about his destiny. Really? Really, Luhrmann? And it seems like he sifted through to find the most obvious tropes to go with the time period. Every single character is introduced with an overly-staged entrance, right down to using the climax of Gershwin's Rhapsody in Blue for Gatsby's key entrance. Since he seems to run out of the obvious roaring 20's music cliches, he then turns to infuse some modern music in there. And as fun as it is to hear Jay-Z rap while flappers dance across the screen, by the third installment of this combination, you begin to wonder if the rapper paid the director in some way to get endorsed so much.
The 20's have enough class without having to be dressed up and counterfeited. The same goes for Leonardo DiCaprio's acting, which has enough class without needing the overly dressed and cumbersome script-writing. The single best moment in this movie is the expression on his face at the fulfillment of a long overdue reunion.
Unfortunately, most of the other actors left me wanting more...which might not be the best way to put it. Most of them gave too much, and I wanted less. Carey Mulligan's Daisy has a tough job to handle -- what with practically all of her lines already in the minds and ears of those that have dressed her up in their own sort of Gatsby dreams. I'm sorry to say that she didn't do it for me.
All in all, Luhrmann's interpretation of The Great Gatsby is exactly what Gatsby's life was -- flashy, hopeful, but mostly empty.
Unfortunately, most of the other actors left me wanting more...which might not be the best way to put it. Most of them gave too much, and I wanted less. Carey Mulligan's Daisy has a tough job to handle -- what with practically all of her lines already in the minds and ears of those that have dressed her up in their own sort of Gatsby dreams. I'm sorry to say that she didn't do it for me.
All in all, Luhrmann's interpretation of The Great Gatsby is exactly what Gatsby's life was -- flashy, hopeful, but mostly empty.