The Great Gatsby

During the awful first hour, I kept asking myself, “What the hell is this piece of shit?” I was angry. I felt ripped off. There was not a single authentic moment. I thought it was going to be a miserable two and a half hours. But then, one hour in, it changed. Without spoiling it, there was a precise moment when Baz Luhrmann and company dropped the pretense, and a lot like Gatsby himself, became the most genuine version of itself. Then it became interesting. It seems as if the filmmakers intended for the first hour of decadence, partying, and phoney-baloney to be obnoxious and superficial to juxtapose who Gatsby really WAS and what he was really feeling. Risky. But it paid off. And I was drawn in after being repelled. Performances all around are first-class. Special props to Joel Edgerton (young Owen Lars) who might get nominations. If you can trust the filmmakers and withstand the first hour, the rest of the movie is worthwhile.