Nice Try Old Sport

Rating: 6/10 (22 May 2013)

Baz Luhrmann commits infidelity in a treacherous betrayal to F. Scott Fitzgerald as he is lured towards a modern, more attractive mistress named Style. This affliction with unnecessary aesthetic causes The Great Gatsby to appear disloyal to the novelist's source material. While Luhrmann often returns to Fitzgerald at instances of faithfulness, too frequently he is enticed by Style, all the while leaving substance to be "borne back ceaselessly into the past."
Literary adaptations are always difficult to execute perfectly, partially due to the variety of interpretations that page readers have on a particular text, partly because not all screen viewers have even read the literature in question, and primarily since cinematic perfection cannot exist as not all would agree on it. It is even more difficult, as a reader turned viewer, to leave your novelistic perspective at home. All this considered seems an unavoidable detriment to The Great Gatsby as a motion picture. Baz Luhrmann's interpretation of the 1925 Jazz Age novel simply feels far to contrived, for a story that deals with themes of such realism. The film contradicts itself in its collision between incessant noises, artsy visuals and disloyalty, and then eventual credibility through dramatic action and characterisation. The Great Gatsby is far from being a narrative regarding the binary opposites of good and bad, though these themes manage to organically surface by themselves through the conflict that Luhrmann implements between aesthetic artificiality and genuine storytelling.
Thankfully, The Great Gatsby offers its least genuine, borderline unbearable act for the opening 45 minutes, though this sense of near cinematic torture continues to emerge, though less frequently, throughout the picture. It is unfortunately this opening act that leaves a bad taste in your mouth, a ringing in your ears and a stain on your retinas. It cannot be described more appropriately than deafeningly loud and unnecessarily stylised, causing absolutely nothing to feel important as your brain is just trying to process the narration, dialogue, diegetic and non-diegetic sounds that are each battling for supremacy. The desire to cover your ears is only prevented by the knowledge that you will then have to withstand the visuals alone. The film throws such a variety of information at us that we cannot appreciate or take notice of anything in particular. Gatsby's introduction feels as important as a speck of dust on Nick Carraway's tie. Furthermore, the snappy editing techniques incorporated just assist in giving The Great Gatsby a sense of delusion and vertigo, which really needs to settle down before it causes irreversible cognitive harm to its audience.
Like a babysitter's hopes for the misbehaving child to calm down, our wishes are answered as following an abundance of hyperactivity, The Great Gatsby becomes a more endurable, peaceful and in fact quite magnificent drama film. As our two paramours eventually acknowledge one another, the volume lessens, and the film becomes a story not an acid trip. It is only from this moment in the film when one can finally begin to enjoy and care about any character, relationship or any aspect at all for that matter. The Great Gatsby becomes and exceeds our expectations. It fulfils the literary imagery (if you have read it) placed into your mind by Fitzgerald's novel during that first reading. For those that haven't, you finally, albeit behind schedule, are introduced to these wonderfully broken souls. These lost, tragic, misunderstood souls are portrayed quite phenomenally by an exceptionally talented cast. Leonardo DiCaprio is Jay Gatsby; Carey Mulligan is Daisy Buchanan; Tobey Maguire is Nick Carraway; Joel Edgerton is Tom Buchanan; and that's not just because the credits tell us so, it is due to their ownership over their respective roles and fulfilment of our expectations of their literary description.
Now back to my dislikes for the film, which I only think is fair as The Great Gatsby itself negotiates between giving the audience what they came to see, and disappointing them beyond belief and so I shall negotiate between what the feature does greatly, and what it does not. This convergence of polarised characteristics within one film is most evidently seen, and heard, through the party scenes, in addition to the hugely dubious soundtrack choices. While actually outwardly suitable and creative for the promotional trailers for the film, when translated into the feature itself, the musical choices of Kanye West, Jay-Z amongst other contemporary artists are so unfitting that you feel it is repeatedly necessary to ask the musical supervisor to check if they have the right pair somewhere else. Meanwhile, the oddly choreographed party scenes are constructed for no purpose other than to appeal to a modern, young and presumably intoxicated audience. In coalition, these two elements feel more like we are in an updated version of the 1920s (the era of Fitzgerald's novel), rather than the era itself. You feel you are being thrown through Luhrmann's time machine as you enter different periods and this is not as enjoyable as you think time travel could be.
Like Gatsby himself, the film is introduced as a perplexing mystery, and much like the film itself, you contemplate on how much you think you know and are understanding, though I am sure this parallel was not the intention of Luhrmann. Overall, a forgivably improved second half and a more than satisfying emotional conclusion leaves Baz Luhrmann's piece, not quite at master status, but as an enjoyable yet disappointing journey to see The ( ) Gatsby, that was missing its Great.