NEW YORK - F. Scott Fitzgerald's "The Great Gatsby" is short, almost novella size. It features larger-than-life characters, glamorous extravagance and dramatic demises. On its surface, it's the most Hollywood-friendly of the great American novels.
But "Gatsby" remains elusive, its poetry largely locked on the page despite a century of attempted adaptations. Since it was published (to an initially cold response) in 1925, it has spawned four previous films (including a 1926 silent movie that's since been lost) and numerous stage productions. The folly of transferring the novel to other media was even parodied in an 8-bit Nintendo-style video game where Nick Carraway must evade cocktail-dispensing butlers and Charleston-dancing flappers.
On Friday, Baz Luhrmann tosses his garish hat into the "Gatsby" ring. His is a 3-D blockbuster spectacle with a star-studded cast (Leonardo DiCaprio, Tobey Maguire, Carey Mulligan) and a contemporary soundtrack (Jay-Z, Jack White) that hopes to finally crack the cinematic code of Fitzgerald's novel.
"Whether we made the right choices or the wrong choices, we didn't make any flippant choices," says Luhrmann, the director of "Moulin Rouge" and "Romeo and Juliet."
All great novels have their own impossibilities of being captured on the big screen, but "Gatsby" poses particular challenges because of its amorphous beauty. The character of Jay Gatsby is deliberately vague (even Fitzgerald later wondered to his editor Max Perkins if he should have fleshed him out more). Daisy, too, is idealized all out of proportion. The book isn't a chronicle of happenings, but the lyrical, written-down reflections of Carraway, the narrator: It's in the telling, not the tale.
The adaptations of "Gatsby" have left, if not quite a "foul dust" in their wake, then certainly a legacy of disappointment.
All that's left of the first film, starring Warner Baxter and directed by Herbert Brenon for Paramount Pictures, is the trailer, which can be found on YouTube. In her letters, Zelda Fitzgerald reportedly pronounced the film, based on an early Broadway production, "rotten."
The 1949 "Gatsby," starring Alan Ladd, may be the most lamentable version. It opened with Carraway and Daisy visiting Gatsby's grave and concluded with Gatsby, shortly before his end, exuberantly promising rehabilitation in dated lingo: "I'm going to pay up, Nick. I'm going to square myself."
The 1974 film, produced by Robert Evans and starring Robert Redford, is almost universally described as lifeless. The 2000 made-for-TV "Gatsby" starring Toby Stephens and Mira Sorvino, is perhaps best left unmentioned.
Jackson Bryer, president of the F. Scott Fitzgerald Society and editor of the Library of Congress collection of Fitzgerald, says making a movie of "Gatsby" is like "adapting a poem."
"Part of the beauty of the novel is that he doesn't tell you much about anybody," says Bryer, professor emeritus of English at the University of Maryland. "Once you particularize it by making
it Robert Redford or Leonardo DiCaprio, you're limiting it."
In need of more specificity than Fitzgerald's book could provide, Luhrmann and his frequent screenwriter, Craig Pearce, went looking elsewhere to fill in details.
Luhrmann even had help from Francis Ford Coppola, who (after Truman Capote's draft was tossed out) penned the 1974 film, which also starred Sam Watterson as Carraway and Mia Farrow as Daisy. Coppola has said he was shocked to find almost no dialogue between Daisy and Gatsby in the book, so he delved into Fitzgerald's short stories to find the language for a six-page scene of the two talking through the night.