At Real to Reel, we know that if you want to see a film, it's easy to either be completely swayed by someone else's opinions before you've even seen it, or reject their views entirely. Therefore Take Two provides you with not one but two reviews in order to give you two perspectives of the newest releases. The best things really do come in twos.
Reading The Great Gatsby, I grew more and more excited for Baz Luhrmann’s film adaptation: like many, I was excited to see how he’d re-imagine the world of lavish parties, of superficial allure belying deep-rooted, intimate chaos. Luhrmann’s flamboyance bringing Fitzgerald’s words to life - it seemed like a dreamy match. And visually, it was a dream. The cinematography is everything you would expect from a Luhrmann film, taken and then doused in glitter for good measure (this is a good thing). Every single scene is glowing, saturated with showy costumes, fireworks; the reckless fervour of the 20’s is visually encapsulated with eye-watering intensity. There is very little room for subtlety, bittersweet, as this is both Gatsby’s strongest and weakest point.
While cinematographically, Luhrmann’s bluntness is perfect for capturing the wasteful extravagance of the world of Gatsby, from a narrative standpoint it doesn’t translate so well. The original novel is narrated by our protagonist Nick Carraway, and to stay true to this, Luhrmann employs the device of having the entire film be a proposed recollection told by a now alcoholic Carraway. In this way, entire lines of Nick’s inner dialogue are spoken to us throughout parts of the film, which I found pretty distracting. Instead of recreating he repeats - Luhrmann relies too heavily on telling as opposed to showing. Instead of translating the text into acting, the text is simplistically spoken with images playing in the background - giving a hollow feel, and at times robbing the actors of opportunities to fully characterise their roles.
Yet when the actors are given a chance to breathe amongst the overwhelming chaos of Luhrmann’s direction, the film picks up its pace. Perhaps tellingly, the most raptly engaging scene happens to be the fall-out in the hotel, which is carried by the powerful acting rather than flashy theatrics. Leonardo DiCaprio - whose charismatic portrayal of Gatsby draws you in throughout - is especially stellar here, his performance holding you viciously rapt. I have mixed feelings about Carey Mulligan’s performance - she’s good, but never quite captures the spellbinding aura which magnetises people to Daisy in the novel.
While in concept brilliant, and the execution at times engaging, this film is testament of the importance of substance. It touches upon the surface of the world of Gatsby, capturing the extravagance, but leaving not much space for the emotions which are the true compelling factor of this story. Great skill is required to successfully employ a kitsch aesthetic whilst maintaining integrity in the storyline- Luhrmann has pulled this off before in Romeo & Juliet, and Moulin Rouge; but his execution of The Great Gatsby was heavy handed, lacking the depth required to make this work.
Yet when the actors are given a chance to breathe amongst the overwhelming chaos of Luhrmann’s direction, the film picks up its pace. Perhaps tellingly, the most raptly engaging scene happens to be the fall-out in the hotel, which is carried by the powerful acting rather than flashy theatrics. Leonardo DiCaprio - whose charismatic portrayal of Gatsby draws you in throughout - is especially stellar here, his performance holding you viciously rapt. I have mixed feelings about Carey Mulligan’s performance - she’s good, but never quite captures the spellbinding aura which magnetises people to Daisy in the novel.
While in concept brilliant, and the execution at times engaging, this film is testament of the importance of substance. It touches upon the surface of the world of Gatsby, capturing the extravagance, but leaving not much space for the emotions which are the true compelling factor of this story. Great skill is required to successfully employ a kitsch aesthetic whilst maintaining integrity in the storyline- Luhrmann has pulled this off before in Romeo & Juliet, and Moulin Rouge; but his execution of The Great Gatsby was heavy handed, lacking the depth required to make this work.
-Anita Bhadani
It turns out that sometimes simply dreading a film is a good idea. Like the rest of the Western hemisphere, I'd felt mild curiosity towards The Great Gatsby as it was announced and drew ever closer, watched trailers and listened to snippets of the soundtrack. However the feeling of pure breathless excitement that everyone else seemed to feel just wasn't there in me. I only finished the book a week before the film, so I was never a long-term fan. It's not as if I dislike Baz Luhrmann's films - far from it in fact, I love the surreal, angsty Romeo + Juliet and Moulin Rouge and the small-scale charm of Strictly Ballroom - I just had no interest in any of this lavish spectacle. And as the reviews from the American opening weekend and Cannes preview came in, my feelings turned from mild curiosity to pure dread. And yet, despite my reservations, I went to see it, 3D and all. And do you know what? I (mostly) loved it.
I know, I'm as surprised as anyone else. I was all set to absolutely loathe the thing, (and, for the first ten or so minutes of Nick Carraway discussing an Alcohol problem that Luhrmann has handily fashioned as a framing device, I really did) but before I knew it I was as reeled in as someone who was desperate to see it for the last six months. As Anita mentions above, the cinematography in Gatsby, particularly its first half, was out of this world, like something from a glorious glitter-soaked vision that I'd never recalled having. Every detail, from Myrtle Wilson's kitsch pink apartment to the wonderfully extravagant parties and Nick's flower-filled apartment felt just perfect. It's Luhrmann through and through. Even the anachronistic soundtrack wasn't as awful as I'd thought it would be, as everything was kept fairly brief and discreet.
But, with an adaption of what many hail to be The Greatest American Novel Of All-Time Ever, there are bound to be a few issues, and this certainly proves true. This is a Hollywood film, and so Gatsby and Daisy's love affair is one of snatched rendezvous and murmured confessions of ever-lasting adoration. What in my opinion felt like a doomed love between a hopeless romantic and a girl unsure of what or who she wants is immediately translated into something picturesque. It's interesting that as soon as Gatsby and Daisy are reunited, the story begins to wane slightly, as the film loses momentum (Aside from the well-acted altercation in the Hotel suite).
Another big problem for me is the way that anyone non-white is immediately transformed into some bizarre and exotic creature. True, this is a reflection of the time period, but showing a group of lavishly dressed black people writhing around in a car as a Jay-Z song plays and the film's protagonists gawp at them just feels a little tacky. As for the casting of Bollywood legend Amitabh Bachchan as a Jewish Gangster, I feel that, enough has already been written about that for me to go into it. I know it's mainly Fitzgerald's writing that's at fault, but in 2013 you'd surely think there would perhaps be a more subtle way to depict race in a film like this.
Overall, Gatsby is certainly an admirable effort of translating what is said to be an unfilmable book to a new audience. If you're happy to take it at face value, it's a beautiful film about beautiful people, one that will capture an audience and take their breath away, especially with the enhancement of 3D. It's only if you're searching for a little meaning that it may lose some of its sparkle.
-Grace Barber-Plentie
