Some thoughts from a Fitzgerald fan.

Rating: 7/10 (15 May 2013)

I am a great fan of F. Scott Fitzgerald's writing, which I think is some of the finest literature that exists in English. Adapting it to film necessarily loses some of the magic of his words. I'm too young to have seen the 1974 film, so I came to this without preconceptions of how Gatsby could be adapted to the screen.
This is a complementary piece of art that sometimes captures what's hinted at in the novel, yet falls short of its richness and depth. It is, however, a visual feast, and comes across as a tenderly crafted love letter to the novel and to the Roaring Twenties.
Nick Carraway is a framing device for Gatsby's story as he is in the novel, but here he's in a sanatorium, recounting his season at West Egg for his psychiatrist by writing it out in a journal. This device allows for showing off some of Fitzgerald's evocative sentences--including, of course, the famous final line of the novel. There's also a clever scene where Nick amends the title of his just-completed novel, which is one of those bits that was not in the original novel yet somehow captures its spirit.
There are transcendent moments throughout the film--Jay and Daisy reuniting is gloriously funny and painful, the "beautiful shirts" scene is breathtaking, and the final argument between Jay and Tom in the hotel is a powder keg of tension that's impossible to look away from--but there is also a disappointing sense of literalness when it comes to symbolism.
For example, the film opens on a silent shot of the infamous green light at the end of Daisy's dock. I thought, "Good, so they're going to allude to it subtly and leave the audience to figure out what it means."
But no. The film then proceeds to beat the viewer over the head with that green light. It felt like sitting in a high school English class and painstakingly hashing out the theme until the slowest kid in the class got it. Fitzgerald, I think, would have cringed at such ham-fisted repetition. It felt like an editing mistake to me--at least two or three of those green light shots should have been dropped.
Technical annoyances: the hyperactive camera, especially in the first act, which refuses to stay still on a shot even in a languid scene like dinner with the Buchanans. This had the effect of blurring and fragmenting the lavish sets, which is a shame, since they deserved to be pored over and savored. It also made me feel a bit drunk, which was probably the point. But that kind of visual metaphor tends to annoy me more than anything. I know what "drunk" is like. You don't need to show me with camera movements.
The tragic climax is also somewhat spoiled by ostentation. What comes across as brutal and shocking in the original novel is here transformed into a drawn-out, grotesquely sentimental event, complete with choppy slow-motion. (What is with the choppy slow-mo, by the way? Why not just shoot in high-speed and slow it down smoothly? I can only assume it was used for aesthetic effect, but to me it came across as cheapening.)
These complaints aside, I found a lot to like in this film. The acting was incredible, particularly Joel Edgerton's insufferable Tom. Carey Mulligan's eyes deserve an Oscar. Leonardo DiCaprio is by turns magnetic and pathetic. And Tobey Maguire brings a quality of innocence and wonder to the film, which grades slowly and elegantly into disillusionment, disappointment, and despair. It was gutsy to end on a note of pure sorrow, and I applaud Luhrmann for taking that risk.
This is a good, solid adaptation that respects its source material (if not quite trusting the audience to get it). It isn't flawless, but it's clearly loving of and intimate with Fitzgerald's work, and that counts for a lot, in my book.
Oh, and that soundtrack. Masterful. Jay-Z was a brilliant choice. The parallels between modern hip-hop culture and Jazz Age flappers are obvious.