Needless to say I went in with expectations lowered. Luckily, I liked The Great Gatsby more than I thought I would and more than the critics' reviews allowed us to believe people would. Originally the film was supposed to come out in December before the Oscars and got pushed back to May.
Luhrmann's The Great Gatsby takes too long to get started. It also seems to take too much pleasure in the excessiveness it purports to show for the purpose of paying homage to F. Scott Fitzgerald's analysis of the time. It's a world where the takers take all and those who wish to be a part of that world never truly are.
I didn't particularly care for Luhrmann's cartoony, garish direction. For Gatsby, it's easier to picture a darker vision. The middle and the end of the film is gripping, though.
Gatsby and Daisy show us what truly tragic, destructive love looks like |
Most of the actors do seem to be miscast, but they try their best. Mulligan's Daisy isn't totally wrong, but Daisy is supposed to be more aware, shallow and selfish rather than skittish and overly sensitive or vulnerable. Maguire is not right as Nick. An actor with more depth is needed; perhaps like Joseph Gordon-Levitt, Tom Hardy, or (go along with me here) Gabriel Mann. DiCaprio steers the film and is simply excellent. He is also beautiful to withhold as he brings that era to life and seems to have been born in the wrong time. His clothing fits him effortlessly and his golden, sleek hair shines in the sun. Joel Edgerton, who plays Tom Buchanan (Daisy's brutish husband), comes the closest to matching DiCaprio's strength.
Funnily enough I came across this poem that I had written in high school during an academic program to Oxford, England. I had read The Great Gatsby in then and I remember writing about what it meant to me. I remember feeling for Gatsby and seeing that utter humanness in him; he just wants to belong.
Ode to Mr. Gatsby
Brilliant but blind
Gatsby, who are you trying to be?
Lost in the place you know, lonely,
in the
middle of a deafening crowd.
Daisy, deceptive as the flower, seemingly
simple and sweet.
You loved her.
An obsession willing
to
sacrifice your life, hurting
others.
Getting hurt yourself.
Acts of ultimate betrayal.
Gatsby, you are pretending
The privileged who lives untouched,
fall
separate and numb to the world.
They welcomed your amateur acting game.
Trying so hard to be seen in an invisible world,
I see you now,
You disappear.
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