Gatsby le magnifique

So much for hoping for a special edition DVD of this undervalued movie. Not even a trailer! But at least the movie has never looked better, and the original music soundtrack has been fully restored, so I'm not about to complain any further. Ever since its release this film has been battered with wildly vicious criticisms. Maybe that can be better reserved for the genuinely numbing and off key 2001 TV version, which makes this version look better than ever. This version, to me, improves with every viewing--it's peculiar rhythms and deliberately sedate pace does work very well, creating a mood not easily comparable to other movies. Then too, look at director Jack Clayton's movie, THE INNOCENTS (1960), which shares a bit of this studied approach. I'm glad this Gatsby version wasn't reduced to a quick and vulgarized romp; instead Clayton took a more intellectual tone, very nicely counterpointed with a superb array of period music. The crowning touch, Irving Berlin's "What'll I Do," is a match made in heaven, both the song and the novel having appeared within a year of each other in 1925. As for the DVD, it now highlights to maximum effect the evocative, first rate cinematography and art direction (what were those other commentators thinking--were they watching a duped VHS?), etc. Too bad a 30th anniversary edition couldn't have happened in 2004, but I'm more than pleased this has been given its chance on DVD. I agree that the novel's literary aspects defies easy transformation into a movie, but we are more than fortunate that this 1974 film version is as haunting and quietly moving an experience that it is.

It's funny how time seems to change attitudes towards many works of art, including the 1974 film treatment of Fitzgerald's novel "The Great Gatsby." At the time of its release the movie received some of the most scathingly negative reviews I can recall for any film. The reviews were no doubt a response to the enormous publicity that preceded the movie's release with promotion people at Paramount working overtime in promoting the movie as the finest film achievement since ""Gone With The Wind". Compared to the type of promotion that goes on today, this movie's promotion machine pales, but at the time it was quite a unique approach to marketing a movie. The film was on the cover of every imaginable magazine, including the very first issue of People magazine, and primed for failure from the start from all those in Hollywood who love to build something up only to revel in it being destroyed.

None of this back story had anything to do with the actual movie itself.

I recall seeing the movie on the first weekend of its opening and being utterly enchanted by the performances, costumes and ambiance of the production. I saw the movie a second time a few weeks later, only to be disturbed by the cuts that were made to the film, no doubt as a result of that critical backlash. A number of scenes were shortened with one whole character, the Owl Man, played by Tom Ewell completely edited out of the film. These cuts became permanent, with the film today showing the evidence of the cuts by occasional abrupt traditions. I have never seen any version of the film that had these cuts restored.

Now, 36 years after it's release, the movie has undergone the type of reassessment that only time can provide with it being appreciated for the lovely film that it is. With the movie certainly on it's way to Blu-Ray, it's the right time to see these cuts restored to the film so that people can finally see the ENTIRE film as it was initially intended and not the film formed by the hostile criticism it received.

Looking as if it were plucked from the dreaming ear of an impressionable adolescent with Fitzgerald's novel half-open on his bedstand -- and sometimes sounding, alas, as if it were scored by the guy who did episode #93 of Kojak -- there is no reason why this 1974 adaptation of The Great Gatsby shouldn't be better regarded than it is, or even included among other masterpieces of the fertile period. Well, maybe one: Mia Farrow gives an execrable, vaporish performance as Daisy Buchanan that will make you get down on your knees and thank god that we only have to deal with Gwyneth Paltrow. In a way, though, even Farrow's neuroting fits, because this is Fitzgerald as seen through a Tennesee Williams filter. The character of Myrtle's husband, a cipher in the book, is here a sweaty man in overalls who squeezes an oily rag in his hand whenever he stresses out over his wife's infidelities, which is pretty much all the time. What we film folk might call the Karl Malden character.

Unbeknownst to many, this movie was written by Francis Ford Coppola, and is another crown jewel to add to his annus mirabilis of 1974, when he also wrote and directed The Conversation and The Godfather Part II. And what did you do last year? Here he does a wonderfully subtle job with a thankless task, excising most of the celebrated prose passages and too-famous scenes. There's nothing worse than seeing desperate actors try to bring tension to overly familiar texts -- I can never stifle a groan when any actor says "To be or not to be" -- unless of course it's doing reverent voiceovers of Great American Literature. Both of these fatal errors are mostly avoided, but for anyone who wishes the movie were more faithful, they retain the scene where Daisy weeps over Gatsby's shirts. This episode has an intuitive poetic psychology in the book, but goes over like a lead balloon on screen because we expect clearer motivation from flesh and blood people. Such are the limitations of film. But to keep himself interested, and to prevent the proceedings from feeling too dutiful, Coppola gives strange, heretical tweaks to his notorious source throughout, including an assassination scene that likens Gatsby, brilliantly, to JFK.

I don't know much about director Jack Clayton, except that he also did an ace adaptation of Turn of the Screw, retitled The Innocents... But maybe that's enough. This guy FEELS literature. Nothing in this movie looks less than how you idealized it -- even the sunsets are Jazz Age. Robert Redford, too, perhaps sensing he was born to play this role, doesn't fold under pressure but gives a shrewdly understated performance to match the underwritten character, somehow keeping the myth of Gatsby alive despite his all-too-solid presence. In the scene where we first meet him in his office, his solitude framed by the noises of the revellers down in the garden, he projects both neediness and the intimidating force field that comes with extreme wealth, seemingly without doing anything.

A reviewer below me wondered why the men in this movie would go for the shrill, plain women, and suggested there was a gay subtext. Cool. Then the casting of Mia Farrow is subversive instead of insane. I have to admit, when Sam Waterston as Nick Carraway tells Gatsby "You're better than the whole lot of 'em put together!" his delivery has something, shall we say, flamboyant about it, especially in comparison to his wooden restraint hitherto. It's almost as if he stored up all his energy for that one line, to force us to see what a key moment it is between these two young men, and perhaps what's lost when Gatsby meets his end later the same afternoon. But enough speculation. Here's a movie open to any and all interpretations -- sexual, political, poetical.

This lavish Hollywood treatment of the Classic F. Scott Fitzgerald novel is a visual and acoustic delight. Nelson Riddle's spellbinding score and the many brilliant camera shots capturing the splendor of an age of excesses and indulgences make for engaging entertainment. Still, the dark story will leave the viewer numb at the eventual (bitter) end. A young Mia Farrow and Robert Redford in the leads, along with excellent performances by Scott Wilson and Bruce Dern, as well as the 70s "femme fatal" staple Karen Black round out the top, with what seems to be hundreds of colorful "flapper" and servant extras in the cast. Everyone fortunate enough to be born or married or mistressed into money is living the "life", not caring about anyone and anything other than fun, fun, fun.

A series of indiscretions (by just about everyone) culminates in the "just desserts", and several deaths. The fact that life of the high and mighty seems to go on without skipping a beat, regardless of anyone's recklessness or involvement, is the tough lesson the author seems to aim for. Without conscience, what have we? All the money will not replace human emotions, though the cash seems to easily take their place. But didn't we have fun....

It seems something of a shame how maligned the extravagant 1974 movie version of F. Scott Fitzgerald's literary masterwork was when it was originally released. So much media hype surrounded the production, including a Scarlett O'Hara-level search for the right actress to play Daisy Buchanan, that it was bound to disappoint, and it did critically and financially. It's simply not that bad. Interestingly, looking at the film over thirty years later, I am taken by how faithful the movie is to the original book both in text and period atmosphere. The central problem, however, is that Jack Clayton's overly deliberate direction and Francis Ford Coppola's literate screenplay are really too faithful to the book to the point where the spirit of Fitzgerald's story becomes flattened and plot developments are paced too slowly. The result is an evocative but overlong 144-minute epic movie based on a novel that is really quite intimate in scope.

The focus of the plot is still the interrupted love story between Jay Gatsby and his object of desire, Daisy. Narrating the events is Nick Carraway, Gatsby's modest Long Island neighbor who becomes his most trusted confidante. Nick is responsible for reuniting the lovers who both have come to different points in their lives five years after their aborted romance. Now a solitary figure in his luxurious mansion, Gatsby is a newly wealthy man who accumulated his fortunes through dubious means. Daisy, on the other hand, has always led a life of privilege and could not let love stand in the way of her comfortable existence. She married Tom Buchanan for that sole purpose. With Gatsby's ambition spurred by his love for Daisy, he rekindles his romance with Daisy, as Tom carries on carelessly with Myrtle Wilson, an auto mechanic's grasping wife. Nick himself gets caught up in the jet set trappings and has a relationship with Jordan Baker, a young golf pro. The characters head for a collision, figuratively and literally, that exposes the hypocrisy of the rich, the falsity of a love undeserving and the transience of individuals on this earth.

Casting is crucial, and surprisingly, most of the actors fulfill the characters well. Robert Redford, at the height of his box office appeal, plays Gatsby with the right enigmatic quality. As Daisy, Mia Farrow captures the romanticism and shallowness of a character that ultimately does not deserve the love she receives. Even if she appears overly breathy and pretentious, her frequently trying performance still fits Fitzgerald's image of the character. Bruce Dern makes an appropriately despicable Tom Buchanan, while Karen Black has scant screen time as the trashy Myrtle. A very young Sam Waterson makes the ideal Nick with his genuine manner and touching naiveté, and Lois Chiles is all throaty posturing as Jordan. As expected, all the exterior touches are luxuriant and feel period-authentic - Theoni V. Aldredge's costumes, John Box's production design, Douglas Slocombe's elegant cinematography, and the pervasive use of 1920's hits, in particular, Irving Berlin's wistful "What'll I Do?" as the recurring love theme. The film is worth a look if you have not seen it and a second one if you haven't seen it in a while. It's actually better if you've already read the book. The 2003 DVD has a nice print transfer but sadly no extras.