At every great party, there is that inescapable moment when the music stops, the lights go up and all of the imperfections, which have been concealed so deliciously under a cloak of darkness, are suddenly thrown into sharp relief.
The heady air of booze-fuelled anticipation and flirtatious possibility dissipates in an instant. That crushing, mournful realisation that the euphoria was just an illusion will be shared by audiences, who stumble bleary-eyed out of Baz Luhrmann’s visually sumptuous and overlong adaptation of F Scott Fitzgerald.
The Great Gatsby is a razzle dazzle of gorgeous costumes, jaw-dropping set design and directorial brio that effortlessly evokes the excesses of swinging 1920s New York.
The whirling camerawork and explosions of retina-searing colour, which have become Luhrmann’s trademark, embolden every impeccably crafted frame, bejewelled with dream-bubble flashbacks, slow-motion swoops and a blizzard of typewriter letters that fall into the words of the film’s voiceover narration.
Mysterious war hero Jay Gatsby (Leonardo DiCaprio) lives in a bay-side mansion with a menagerie of servants, who help him throw the most extravagant parties.
Lowly stockbroker Nick Carraway (Tobey Maguire), who lives next door, is drawn into Gatsby’s orbit and falls under his neighbour’s spell.
As the stockbroker is granted admission to the millionaire’s inner circle, he discovers heartbreak in Gatsby’s past linked to his cousin Daisy (Carey Mulligan), who lives across the bay with her philandering husband, Tom (Joel Edgerton).
While Tom conducts a tawdry affair with a married woman called Myrtle (Isla Fisher), Daisy seeks refuge in Nick’s company and with her gal pal Jordan Baker (Elizabeth Debicki). Past and present collide and jealousy poisons friendships, pitting Tom against Gatsby for Daisy’s brittle affections.
Rip away the luxurious and gaudy packaging, and The Great Gatsby is reduced to an emotionally undernourished romance that fails to tug the heartstrings even with Craig Armstrong’s score swelling and swooning in all of the right places. Young hearts ran free in Luhrmann’s groundbreaking Romeo + Juliet, here those same hearts maintain a slow steady beat.