The 1920s is having a moment.
The decadence, the opulence, the sheer extravagance seem to make its way onto
the big and small screen time and again and pervade so many aspects of our
popular culture today. It’s no surprise,
however, that this should be the case. Both
now and then have many similarities. In a time of great economic instability –
then, right before major economic upheaval and us right after – the wealthy
seem to be getting richer and the poor seem to be pushed into deeper economic
despair. Music and fashion are pushing
cultural boundaries. Social and
political unrest are prevalent and a growing distrust of the government is blooming. It is no wonder than in both of these times
another constant is that people are looking for some kind of relief and outlet
for their woes.
Directed by Baz Luhrmann, The Great Gatsby is a retelling of an old story – both because we’ve
all read F. Scott Fitzgerald’s book at least once and because the themes of
lost loves, lavish excess, star crossed lovers, cheating lovers, outsiders,
insiders, rich and poor have all been covered throughout the history of
literature and film. In his film, Luhrmann
puts his own unique auteur stamp on it. Through
his whimsical and often chaotic aesthetic style and a true understanding of the medium in which he works,
he layers together his special brand of filmmaking. The bright and vibrant colors, quick cuts, and
close up shots are all signature Luhrmann. He magnificently recreates the world of the narrative and brings a new and exciting vibrancy to 1920s New York.
Gatsby takes place
in 1922, right at the height of stock market boom, before it all came crashing
down. Nick Carraway (Tobey Maguire) is
our narrator, the outsider to the world in which he takes us, the viewers. His cousin Daisy (Carey Mulligan) is married
to an old Yale buddy of his, Tom Buchanan (Joel Edgerton) out on Long
Island. Across the Bay is the famed yet
mysterious Jay Gatsby (Leonardo DiCaprio) who is in love with Daisy and throws extravagant
parties for whomever wishes to join yet remains allusive to all of his guests.
In Luhrmann’s brilliant twist of fate, he gives Nick the
voice of Fitzgerald as the literary voice behind the narrative. After graduating from Yale, where he had
hoped to become the next great American writer, Nick abandons that dream to
become a stock broker and make money. His
summer takes a turn for the strange when he meet’s Jay Gatsby at one of his
lavish parties. Immediately he is sucked
into the drama that comes with someone like Jay. Additionally, he pairs up with his cousin,
Daisy and her bombastic and disgustingly rich husband Tom. Nick finds out about Jay’s history with Daisy
and suddenly becomes a part of their secret love triangle. It is at his psychiatrist’s behest that he writes
down journal entries of what bothers him and yet what he is unable to convey
through the spoken word. Those entries
become the story of The Great Gatsby. It
is Luhrmann’s tribute to Fitzgerald for maintaining his objective view while
living in and observing the world he so delicately wrote about.
Gatsby rehashes
the age old trope that money cannot buy happiness. For all of the characters, there is a
constant to feel full – full of money, full of friends. The more you have, or pretend to have, is how
you can prove your worth in this world. This
was the case in the 1920s and this is again the case now. People believe that the more things they have
the better they seem and the more people will like them. For Gatsby he thought that providing people
with lavish parties full of free alcohol and entertainment made him loved. As it turned out, all of those were empty
gestures. When he died, none of those
takers were there to give back to him and pay their respects. He was surrounded by photographers and the
press who ogled in the spectacle that was Jay Gatsby. The only one who was around for him and who
really cared was Nick. Not coincidentally,
he was also the one person who refused to take anything from him. The one person who just wanted his company
and his friendship.
Ultimately the lives that our characters live become a race
to see who can become the one to die with the most toys – and for what? No one, not one person in the whole story has
a meaningful relationship. Nick thought he had one with Gatsby, but in truth,
we don’t actually see a true friendship blossom. Nick only finds out about who Jay Gatsby was
at the end of the film and right before Gatsby dies. Perhaps they were on their way to a great
friendship, but that opportunity was snuffed out. Daisy and Gatsby – the great star crossed
lovers whose fate was never realized – also did not have any evidence of a real
relationship outside lust at first side and raw sexual desire. Five years before our story begins they met
at a party and were instantly attracted to one another. He was in love with her yet when she heard he
was penniless she found someone who could provide her with the riches she (and
her social status) so desired. Tom and
Daisy, while they are married and have a child together are another dysfunctional
pair as he has a wandering eye and hops into bed with any woman he finds
beautiful. He somehow seems to think it’s
a redeeming quality of his that he always comes back to Daisy.
The story, mostly told through flashback, is narrated by
Nick while psychiatric care after his summer with Gatsby and the
Buchannans. This perspective conjured up
a comparison to One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s
Nest – the idea that the insane are running the asylum. As a culture we value those with money because
that status gives them power. They gorge
themselves on material wealth and neglect their emotional states for it. It is those who go against that grain and don’t
buy into that hype are relegated to the sidelines because they don’t have the
same “values” or cash on hand to enjoy the finer things in life. Nick is perfectly happy in his small cottage
that he rents for $80 a month. He wants
to use his summer to learn a trade – the stock and bonds business. Yet he is sucked into the world that Daisy,
Tom and Gatsby inhabit and it ends up driving him crazy.
Nick is the consummate outsider – commenting on and
observing other people’s drama. In his
voice over narration he laments how he is the keeper of everyone’s secrets which
places him both on the inside of their lives and yet always just to the side of
it. Initially he so wants to be a part
of it, doing all he can to join in. Yet,
it is his outsider status that ultimately allows him to maintain his sanity and
an objective viewpoint to bring him to the other end of the narrative where no
one else was able to.
Maybe it’s not that the early 2000s is so similar to the
1920s, rather that American culture is a constant and that The Great Gatsby has maintained its status throughout the
generations since it was written because of its universality. The story recounts struggles that everyone
faces in one form or another at some point in life. Since 1776, the American dream has been such
that people believe they are always able to pull themselves out of whichever
social or economic sphere they were born into and grown into the next one
up. Generations of successful Americans
have proven that to be a viable option. Yet as The Great Gatsby states, the dichotomy between the Nuevo-riche and
the old money people is a constant struggle.
The idea that being born into money (as is the conversation in Gastby) or being the “dominant race” or
religion, or in today’s cultural climate, the “right sexual preference” somehow
gives you a greater stronghold in the world goes directly against the ideal of
the American dream yet is alive nonetheless.
Gatsby is a story for the ages
and never has that been more evident in Luhrmann’s most recent retelling. I have no doubt it will be told again and
again for decades to come.
