Baz Luhrmann’s The Great Gatsby (2013) is a bold and vibrant adaptation of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s 1925 novel, a book widely regarded as one of the most significant works of American literature. Known for his lavish, opulent style, Luhrmann brings his signature flair to the Jazz Age, a time of excess, decadence, and moral ambiguity. Set in 1920s New York, The Great Gatsby explores themes of wealth, love, aspiration, and the American Dream through the tragic story of Jay Gatsby, a mysterious millionaire, and his unrequited love for Daisy Buchanan. Like Luhrmann’s earlier works, this film is a visual spectacle, drenched in vivid colors, extravagant parties, and elaborate set designs. But behind all the glitz and glamour lies a deeper narrative about the emptiness of the American Dream and the destructive power of obsession.
Leonardo DiCaprio takes on the role of Jay Gatsby, a man whose life is shrouded in mystery. DiCaprio brings a magnetic presence to the character, capturing both Gatsby’s charming veneer and his deep vulnerability. His Gatsby is a man of contradictions—immensely wealthy and successful, yet emotionally fragile and desperately clinging to a past that has long since slipped away. DiCaprio’s performance is filled with subtle nuances; his nervous smile when he first reunites with Daisy, played by Carey Mulligan, reveals the fragility beneath his cool exterior. In these moments, the audience sees that Gatsby’s wealth and extravagant lifestyle are not ends in themselves but are all in service of a dream that is, tragically, unattainable.
Carey Mulligan’s Daisy Buchanan, the object of Gatsby’s obsession, is portrayed as a figure of both beauty and ambiguity. Mulligan captures the ethereal quality of Daisy, a woman who is both delicate and elusive, yet ultimately superficial and selfish. Her Daisy is charming and flirtatious, but there is a sense of emptiness behind her actions, a hollow core that reflects the emptiness of the world in which she exists. Mulligan’s portrayal emphasizes Daisy’s role as a symbol of unattainable desire rather than as a fully realized person. This portrayal aligns with Fitzgerald’s original vision of Daisy as a character who is more an idea than a reality, someone whom Gatsby has idealized to the point of delusion. Her inability to live up to Gatsby’s expectations is central to the tragic arc of the story.
Tobey Maguire plays Nick Carraway, the novel’s narrator and a central figure in the film’s framing device. As the story unfolds, it is Nick’s perspective that guides the audience through the world of East Egg and West Egg, the two contrasting locations representing old money and new money, respectively. Maguire’s portrayal of Nick is understated, emphasizing his role as an observer rather than an active participant in the drama that unfolds around him. He is both fascinated by and repelled by the excesses of Gatsby’s world, and his gradual disillusionment with both Gatsby and the American Dream mirrors the audience’s journey. Maguire’s Nick is a man caught between admiration and skepticism, torn between the idealism of Gatsby’s dream and the harsh reality of its impossibility.
Visually, the film is stunning. Luhrmann’s The Great Gatsby is a feast for the eyes, filled with glittering visuals and sumptuous sets that evoke the grandeur and excess of the Roaring Twenties. The party scenes at Gatsby’s mansion are particularly striking, with their dizzying array of costumes, lights, and music. Luhrmann uses these scenes to great effect, capturing the hedonistic spirit of the era while also hinting at the underlying emptiness of such excess. The use of 3D technology adds a layer of immersion to the film, drawing the audience into the opulence of Gatsby’s world. Yet, for all the glamour, there is a pervasive sense of artificiality in the visuals, a deliberate choice that reflects the superficial nature of the characters’ lives. The opulent settings and vibrant colors are beautiful, but they also serve to emphasize the hollowness of the characters’ pursuits, particularly Gatsby’s single-minded obsession with recreating a lost past.
The film’s soundtrack, curated by Jay-Z, is a notable departure from traditional period-appropriate music. Instead of sticking strictly to jazz, Luhrmann incorporates contemporary music to underscore the film’s themes and draw connections between the excesses of the 1920s and those of the modern era. Songs by artists like Lana Del Rey, Beyoncé, and Florence + The Machine are woven into the fabric of the film, creating a fusion of past and present that reinforces the universality of Fitzgerald’s themes. This blending of old and new is typical of Luhrmann’s style, as seen in his previous works like Moulin Rouge! and Romeo + Juliet, where he similarly used anachronistic music to create a bridge between historical settings and modern sensibilities. Some viewers may find the modern soundtrack jarring, but for others, it adds a dynamic energy to the film and highlights the parallels between the hedonism of the Jazz Age and contemporary culture.
One of the film’s key strengths is its ability to convey the central themes of Fitzgerald’s novel, particularly the critique of the American Dream. Gatsby is the embodiment of that dream—he rises from humble beginnings to achieve immense wealth and success, but his success is built on illusion and corruption. The film underscores the idea that the American Dream, as it is often understood, is a myth, a false promise that can never truly be fulfilled. Gatsby’s tragic flaw is his belief that money can buy happiness, that wealth can bring him the love of Daisy and the validation he so desperately craves. But in the end, Gatsby’s wealth only serves to isolate him, and his pursuit of Daisy leads to his downfall. The film emphasizes the hollowness of Gatsby’s dream, just as Fitzgerald’s novel did, portraying the American Dream as a beautiful but ultimately destructive illusion.
At the same time, the film critiques the social stratification of the 1920s, a theme that resonates with contemporary audiences. The divide between old money, represented by Tom and Daisy Buchanan, and new money, represented by Gatsby, is stark. Tom Buchanan, played by Joel Edgerton, is a character of immense privilege and entitlement, a man who views Gatsby’s wealth with disdain because it is newly acquired. Edgerton brings a brutishness to Tom, capturing his arrogance and hypocrisy. Tom’s treatment of both Daisy and Myrtle Wilson, his mistress, reflects the callousness of the upper class, and his ultimate escape from any consequences for his actions underscores the inequities of the social system. Gatsby, despite his wealth, is never truly accepted by the old-money elite, and his outsider status is central to his tragedy.
The film also explores the theme of time and the impossibility of recapturing the past. Gatsby’s fixation on Daisy is not just a longing for a lost love, but for a lost time—a time when he believed anything was possible, when the future seemed limitless. DiCaprio’s Gatsby repeatedly asserts that he can “repeat the past,” but the film makes it clear that this is an illusion. The green light at the end of Daisy’s dock, which Gatsby fixates on throughout the story, becomes a powerful symbol of unattainable desire. It represents both Gatsby’s dream of rekindling his romance with Daisy and, more broadly, the human desire to hold onto the past. But as Nick observes, Gatsby’s dream is already behind him, irretrievable, and his obsessive pursuit of it leads only to his destruction.
While the film succeeds in capturing the visual and thematic essence of The Great Gatsby, it is not without its flaws. Some critics have argued that Luhrmann’s stylistic choices—particularly the over-the-top visuals and modern soundtrack—distract from the emotional depth of the story. There is a sense that the film’s spectacle occasionally overwhelms its substance, leaving little room for the quieter, more introspective moments of the novel. Gatsby’s loneliness and the emptiness of his dream, while certainly present in the film, sometimes feel secondary to the visual bombast. Additionally, while DiCaprio’s performance is widely praised, some of the supporting characters, particularly Daisy, feel underdeveloped. Mulligan’s Daisy, while ethereal, lacks some of the complexity that makes the character so fascinating in the novel. The film portrays her as an object of desire rather than as a fully realized person, and her inner conflict is not explored in as much depth as it could have been.
