“The Great Gatsby” Review | You’ve Aged Well, Old Sport
Spoilers beware.
Of all the classic pieces of literature stemming from the 20th century, none have piqued my interest as of late quite as relentlessly as Scott F. Fitzgerald’s 1925 masterpiece, The Great Gatsby. Perhaps it’s due to my reoccurring listens of the Broadway musical adaptation — “New Money” is, after all, a song that I’ve listened to over and over again. So take that into consideration while I’m discussing Baz Luhrmann’s 2013 film adaptation; I have not read the book as of now, so I won’t be judging this picture on the basis of how good of an adaptation it is nor how faithfully it recreates the story of the novel. What I can say is that, at this point in time, I found The Great Gatsby to be as fun, glamorous, and tragic as a Luhrmann feature can get.
Nick Carraway, undergoing psychiatric treatment in 1929, talks and writes to his doctor about his time in New York City back in 1922. At the beginning of the Roaring ’20s, Carraway — fresh off Pennsylvania Station — lands a small cottage at West Egg, his neighbor a man living in a giant mansion who he only sees from afar. Nick visits his wealthy cousin Daisy, who lives with her old money socialite husband Tom and best friend Jordan Baker. Nick quickly gets sucked up in the ravishing life of parties and excess within NYC, culminating in an invite one of his neighbor…
