I could just as easily have named this post “The Sparkly-est Movie Ever Made,” but for clarity’s sake, let’s keep it at the bland “Film Adaptation – The Great Gatsby.” I picked up the 1974 movie version of The Great Gatsby this summer as I aimlessly browsed the “classic” movie selection at a local, non-chain DVD rental place called Video-To-Go (a selection which is far more extensive than the classics section at any other rental place to which I’ve ever been). I picked it up partly because rentals were 2 for 1 that day (I also rented the most recent iteration of Alice in Wonderland, Inglourious Basterds, and Cat on a Hot Tin Roof) and partly because I’ve developed a mild obsession with 1920s and 1930s fashions and I was looking for ideas for sewing projects. I had seen this film in high school when I read The Great Gatsby for the first time and remembered vividly a few scenes (most notably the cheesy “shirt tossing” scene, which we will get to later). But I wondered if my impression of the movie might have changed over the 15 years. Incidentally, this book has been filmed five times (1926, 1949, 1974, 2000, and 2007) which is exactly how many times I was required to read the book for English classes in high school and college.

Let’s jump right into it by looking at the ways the two main characters, Gatsby and Daisy, were portrayed in the 1974 version.

Daisy – From my admittedly limited experience of Mia Farrow's screen offerings, I have come to this conclusion: Mia Farrow is not a great actress (though I have always liked her voiceover in The Last Unicorn, even in that fantastical film she’s a bit overwrought). Feel free to defend her and suggest a movie to redeem her in my eyes. Granted, the character of Daisy is a little out there and has ridiculous lines thanks to Fitzgerald, but Farrow bordered on absurd. Her bug-like features were emphasized with make-up, causing her to look not aristocratic and sprightly, but how I imagine a hostage would look after three to six months of malnourishment and mistreatment. Dark eye make-up is decidedly not meant for freckly blondes with hollow cheeks.

Gatsby – If Farrow’s portrayal of Daisy was over-the-top, Robert Redford’s interpretation of Gatsby is emotionless and robotic. Maybe this juxtaposition was purposeful on the part of the filmmakers, but it might have been done a bit more subtly. And anyway, Gatsby is not an emotionless character. He is filled with longing and desire, which needs more than just a stiff hand melodramatically lifted toward the blinking green light across the bay. I guess I just wanted more of a human feel from Redford because I’ve never actually liked the character of Gatsby all that much. I wanted to like him like Nick does, but Redford didn’t get me even halfway there.

Any scenes with both Farrow and Redford in them were doubly prone to melodrama and cheese, the worst offender being when Gatsby and Daisy are dancing together (forever) while wearing their old clothes and the audience is treated to an embarrassingly bad, whispery voiceover track of Daisy and Gatsby talking. Gag. An iconic though, in my humble opinion, almost incomprehensibly stupid scene is the “Such beautiful shirts!” scene where Daisy is weeping over all of Gatsby’s many-colored shirts that he has sent over from Europe. First of all, no one would just start tossing shirts around their room, I don’t care who you want to impress with your material wealth. Second, I know this scene is in the book, but as a filmmaker you have the option of doing a little extra editing. Why not leave this scene on the cutting room floor along with the shirts?


There were, however, some extremely well-done scenes, and they almost always involved Bruce Dern. The best performances by far were those of the supporting cast: Sam Waterston as Nick, Bruce Dern as Tom, and Lois Chiles as Jordan. Believably and skillfully portrayed. (I just have to ask—was it a requirement that nearly all of these actors appear on Law & Order at some point later in their careers? For it seems more than 50% of the actors in this film did just that.) And of course the costuming is very nicely done, as are the sets.

The final scene sets a nice, tragic tone, which was how Fitzgerald wanted to leave his readers, I think. But the filmmakers couldn’t leave it at that. In the most blatantly inappropriate, emotionally wrenching turnabout, they leave the audience with a bunch of gaily dressed people prancing around outside in some unnamed place to the tune of “Ain’t We Got Fun.” What? [SPOILER ALERT] Gatsby was murdered, no one came to his funeral, his “friends” abandoned him, and his grand house stands empty but for the ghosts of unfulfilled dreams, and then suddenly I’m subjected to this? Bad, bad filmmaking. It’s supposed to be tragic.

All in all, if you haven’t seen this film, I wouldn’t bother. After seeing the movie I did reread the book. It had been 10 years or more since my last reading. I do like the book, despite its faults, because Fitzgerald does have an incredible knack for phrasing that I hope to cultivate in my own writing. I underlined so many passages it would be foolish for me to retype them all here. But if you’re interested, let me know in a comment and I’ll dig some up.