Bottom Line
Easily one of the most anticipated films of the summer,
Luhrmann’s Gatsby is fairly evenly matched in terms of its successes and
failures, leaving many audience members to regard it as a faithful adaptation
yet a so-so film.
In my film as literature class, students break
the analysis into three parts, so I’m going to practice what I teach and use
the same categories below.
Narrative Elements
As far as book to film adaptations go, this is a very
faithful one. In fact, I might argue that Luhrmann almost went too far in trying
to make sure audiences knew he knew he was working with Fitzgerald’s material,
leading to some questionable cinematic choices (see below). The one area where
the film diverged significantly in terms of plot was the addition of a
narrative frame depicting Nick in a sanatorium, where he is attempting to
recover from his ordeal out East by writing about it. Despite forming a
historically accurate link with Fitzgerald’s biography (his wife Zelda was in
and out of institutions), I found this device little more than a hokey attempt
to install Carraway as the narrator and justify his repeated narratorial interpolations.
My questions here are: 1) how much justification does this really need, and 2)
could there not have been a more elegant, less intrusive or obviously contrived
way to go about it? (Morgan Freeman's Scrap in Clint Eastwood’s Million
Dollar Baby comes to mind as one of the best utilizations of the type of narration Luhrmann was shooting for.)
Luhrmann is (perhaps?) a victim
of coincidence here in that I could not watch Tobey Maguire at the typewriter
without thinking of Ewan McGregor’s forlorn Christian in Moulin Rouge!, which used the same retrospective narration of a
tragic death—in essence the same exact framing device. Also, the frame sequences
recounting the conversations between Nick Carraway and his psychologist gave
way too much information about how the audience was to view the characters in
the story proper. The Gatsby mystique that persists through much of the novel
is non-existent in the film because Nick instructs in the first few minutes
that Gatsby is to be seen, specifically, as a figure of hope. Several times
throughout the film, it seemed that information was given at the wrong time, making
it that audiences were spoon-fed a “correct” understanding of the characters
rather than being allowed to make their own decisions.
Cinematic Elements
The film’s direction has been an area of dissatisfaction
with a number of people I’ve spoken to. Luhrmann has taken on high stakes literary
adaptations before, but the stakes have risen even higher since and because of Romeo + Juliet. What I’ve gathered is
that people have the expectation that Luhrmann’s films will show they something
unexpected, essentially that he will take them places they didn’t even know
they wanted to go. The problem is that Luhrmann has developed a highly specific
and highly recognizable aesthetic, so when he employs that aesthetic a number
of times, audiences get the feeling they’re seeing something that’s been “done.”
I’m not saying this is fair, but I have to confess that at several points
during Gatsby, I found myself being
taken back to Moulin Rouge! via
certain cinematic techniques. For example, the slow motion descent of Myrtle
Wilson post-car-collision mirrors closely Satine’s fall from her aerial bar
near the beginning of Moulin Rouge!
The transition from extreme long shot to medium shot of a specific area via
super-fast zoom is another device seen in both films (to clarify, this would be as if
the Buchanans’ home were seen from across the bay, then the camera zoomed
quickly to the butler at the front door, or if a shot of the Paris skyline
zoomed to Satine inside her elephant).
Now again, I’m not saying there is
anything wrong with or inartistic about Luhrmann employing the same techniques
across films. What I am saying, however, is that a slow motion fall or a
super-fast zoom is the kind of dramatic editing technique that audiences are
likely to remember. No one will ever complain about the frequency with which
Spielberg uses eye-line matching because nobody even notices an eye-line match.
Unfortunately, the audacity and innovation that first wooed Luhrmann fans might
be the same that had them hoping for more from Gatsby. That said, the transposition of text onto the image at certain points in the
film in order to remind audiences of the film’s textual beginnings is a choice
I simply cannot get behind. Film adaptations shouldn’t bowdlerize source
material, but neither should they try to become them. People interested in the
text will read it, or—more likely—they already have.
Elements of the Misc-en-Scene
Actors/Acting: In my opinion, this was a well-put-together
cast. Though I had some doubts when the castings were first announced, all the
major players gave solid performances. In particular, I thought Carey Mulligan
gave about as sympathetic a portrayal of Daisy Buchanan as possible. Given the
fact that Daisy on the page is shallow and unsubstantial, Mulligan did a
surprisingly good job of imbuing her with relatable human emotions and motivations.
Leo DiCaprio’s Gatsby found the right mixture of cool detachment and irrational
passion, Maguire embodied the Midwest with
prudence but not prudishness, and Joel Edgerton, besides having the perfect
voice and stature, appropriately captured Tom Buchanan’s banal greed and
self-importance. Elizabeth Debicki was fine as Jordan Baker,
though the screenwriters’ decision to reduce Jordan to a plot accessory in the
film left Debicki without much meat to her character. [Recall that in the book
Jordan’s comings and goings underscore the tension between Nick’s observation
that she is “incurably dishonest” and Gatsby’s assertion that Miss Baker is “a
great sportswoman” and therefore “wouldn’t do anything that isn’t all right,” a
tension that dually confirms the dissolution of New York’s elite and Gatsby’s naïve
denial of it.]
Cinematography/Costuming: Beautiful, lush,
vibrant, decadent--what Baz does best. The shot of Gatsby with his soaking wet
suit, red face, and blue eyes framed in Nick’s doorway was one of the best of
the film.
Sound/Music: A lot was made of the
soundtrack. For me personally, it was what it was, neither enhancing nor
detracting from my experience of the film.
To conclude, I think Luhrmann took on a
project perhaps more difficult than he even realized. Over the last century, The Great Gatsby has developed a
symbolic meaning with almost as much force as (if not more than) its literal
one. I can’t think of a harder task than trying to make a film about a man who
is also the American Everyman trying and failing to restore a relationship with
a woman who is also the Worthlessness and Unattainability of the American
Dream. The bottom line is that the film isn’t the book, and no, it’s not even
equally good in its own medium. But the book, to me (and I re-read it after seeing
the film), is about disgust and decay, about a world that will only ever crudely
approximate the one we’re looking for. The film doesn’t approach the profundity
of the novel in this way, but it does, in my opinion, do a better job of
illustrating the silly, frustrating, and often unwise longings of the human
heart. Maybe there's room enough for both perspectives.
Nice analysis. I don't really understand why people keep trying to make movies of this book. Or, for that matter, of many other wonderful novels. Most of the greatest movies I've seen have worked with original scripts and have not been based on novels. But I guess original scripts are too risky for Hollywood these days. After all, think of all the free publicity you have if you remake The Great Gatsby one more time.
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