A vexata quaestio from the dawn of cinematic art is: can a film adapted from a literary work be of equal quality and captivate the viewer? Personally, I find it difficult for a positive outcome in cases like movies inspired by the captivating prose novels of Ian Fleming, centered on the epic deeds of agent 007. Indeed, these are action-packed novels brimming with adrenaline. The discussion differs when applied to novels where the psychological introspection of the characters prevails, with touches on the great themes of life such as the passage of time, the meaning of existence, the love felt for others, etc. Here, inevitably, what is seen on screen yields a completely different result compared to what is effectively conveyed on the written page.
And it's to give a clarifying idea of this conviction that a classic of twentieth-century American literature like "The Great Gatsby" can be useful. I retrieved (with the imaginable limitations in scenic rendering compared to a cinema view) the latest film adaptation released in 2013, signed by the talented Baz Luhrmann, of the aforementioned novel by Francis Scott Fitzgerald on the Netflix platform. And my perplexities remained unchanged. Because, as many will already know having read the book, the story featuring the rich Croesus named Jay Gatsby is faithfully retold, but in the glittering scenic rendering of his parties in a Long Island villa, something is inevitably lost. The viewer is dazzled by the sparkling vision of the protagonist's parties aimed at finding Daisy, the woman loved five years earlier when he was about to leave for the front in World War I. It's unfortunate that in the meantime, she has married a wealthy and not at all faithful fop, and things, as you might expect, become complicated leading to a tragic outcome.
As it appears in the film, the whole affair has the traits of a predictable melodrama, while, in my opinion, Fitzgerald's novel manages to draw the reader's attention to important underlying themes such as the relentless passing of time, the resulting changes in each person, the inherent fragility of the feeling called love, which is incapable of remaining intact over time (an effective rebuttal of the Latin saying "amor omnia vincit"). In short, behind the facade of the novel "The Great Gatsby," there is much more, and it is far more profound.
Having said that, Luhrmann's film (which uses a soundtrack halfway between jazz and hip hop) undeniably has great merits that are not only tied to the rich and sumptuous set design, as well as the excellent performance (perhaps it's obvious to mention) of an actor of Leonard DiCaprio's caliber (perfect as Jay Gatsby) and also Tobey McGuire as Nick Carraway, the protagonist's fortunate neighbor.
It must indeed be added that Luhrmann, in the grand caravanserai of scenes set during the parties at the tycoon's villa, perfectly recreated the euphoria that was steeped in the "roaring twenties" in the USA of the last century, when gains both on the Stock Exchange and from the illegal distribution of alcohol seemed infinite and unstoppable. And the character of Gatsby, in his tragic stature as a man deluded into being able to row against the current over time, is not only a son of that era but represents many other epigones who became excessively wealthy, in not entirely transparent ways, and destined to fall ruinously. And here my thoughts inevitably turn to a recently deceased, illustrious Italian tycoon well-known around Arcore and beyond...
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