Great = Sort of Alright

(Spoiler Alert! If you've not had a chance to see the film yet and don't want to know any plot points, reading the fucking book)

Dear You,

Somewhere on my bookshelf is a copy of F. Scott Fitzgerald's 'The Great Gatsby' with a bookmark sandwiched between approximately pages five and six. Bearing in mind that this has remained unchanged since about three years ago, I should have been a little more cautious when going to see the new film version.

I mean, I like Baz Luhrmann; I know about 95% of the words to 'Moulin Rouge!' I liked the filming and imagery, as well as the modern/jazzy music mashups, but I felt that, fundamentally, it was the story that was lacking. Sorry, F., whatever that may stand for.

It was basically about people loving each other and being too scared/fecking stupid to tell each other. There was also some Beyoncé which, to be fair, is never a bad thing. Some people also died, which spiced a fairly bland plot up.

It was quite lucky, really, that we were in an old-fashioned, independent cinema; not least because the tickets and popcorn were cheaper, but because we were treated with an interval- and let me tell you, my arse was slipping into a Tobey Maguire-induced coma, and I was craving an orange ice lolly.

Whatever, really, it's up to you; go and see it if you like- if not, don't (Christ, I'd make a fabulous film reviewer). Simple as. But, if pushed, I'd give it two and a bit stars. Next Roger Ebert, me.

Yours unimpressedly,

M.

P.S. I've got a 'progression day' into Year 13 tomorrow, and I'm considering pretending I've died to get out of it...