Special thank yous to Adrienne for planning (and silverware), to Rachel for the best potluck contribution, to Ashton for bringing the DVD, and to Tedward for valiantly taking home all leftover food so no one else had to carry it.
Confession: I did not expect to like the DiCaprio/Mulligan version at all. But I did. A lot. It’s gorgeous, of course. And both Gatsby and Daisy were significantly more human in this version–reinforced even in simple ways like the fact that Nick repeatedly called Gatsby “Jay,” which is not true of the novel or Redford/Farrow movie. As a result, Leo-Gatsby seemed more vulnerable, his carefully constructed world on a much shakier foundation. I had loved Redford-Gatsby, but he is a cardboard man, and Leo-Gatsby showed the work it took to be Gatsby. And Mulligan-Daisy was both much more likeable and more awful, since her guilt for Myrtle’s death is more profound if she isn’t simply a twit.
Still struggling with how I feel about the Nick-in-a-sanitorium invention. And with the combination of explicit information about the 20s for an ignorant American viewing public being carefully woven into the film, only to be juxtaposed with radically anachronistic elements (not the music– I liked that much more than I anticipated).
Both Toms stink. Bruce Dern-Tom is not nearly enough of a “brute,” to use Daisy’s word. And Joel Edgerton-Tom is not believable as old money– would Tom Buchanan ever wear dirty polo clothes to a dinner with guests? No way. Very interesting difference in George Wilsons, one of whom is so beaten down and lost and the other of whom is a man ready to kill.
It has already been well established that I can find a phallic symbol anywhere. But please, people: Nick and Gatsby on the porch with a huge white column between them (Redford version)?? The sharing of one cigarette?? Etc. etc. Don’t even get me started psychoanalyzing Gatsby’s wombish swimming pools, in which he meets his death.
Lastly (maybe): why did Leo-Gatsby say “old sport” to rhyme with “Colbert Report”? That was awkward.