The Great Gatsby (1974 and 2013)

F. Scott Fitzgerald’s classic novel “The Great Gatsby” has spawned roughly six filmed versions. I have seen only two, and it seems a movie version that equals the book is far and forever out of grasp. That is a reference to the book, which if you have not read is a shame. Because I’m skipping the plot re-hash. Read the book.

The 1974 version comes with high pedigree: Francis Ford Coppola has his name on the screenplay, and the top-line stars are Robert Redford and Mia Farrow, both at career highs, as the deeply unknowable titular character and the possibly soulless Daisy, she the woman of his desires/obsessions/ past. Sam Waterston is our hero/narrator, Nick. Redford as the make-you-swoon Gatsby? Cannot go wrong, right? “Well, of course you can.” This is a dud. My wife loves it. I don’t. The book zings with jazz and satire, hidden meanings, the notion that on your third read you catch new-to-you symbolism and connections. Never has an attack on excess come off as empty. Redford -– great actor -– is stiff and wrong as Gatsby, with Farrow over-acting the hysterics. Director Jack Clayton nails the look of the era of loud jazz, loose morals, and great wealth -– Gatsby’s house is the Rosecliff House in Newport, Rhode Island, and my wife and I have been there -– but it trudges along slow and empty. That moment at the end comes not as tragic and sickeningly ironic, but just tepid as … pool water. Dig, though, Scott Wilson as a wronged man. C

Baz Luhrmann’s version is all excess, an ironic eyebrow raiser as the novel attacks the very notion of flash and glitter as suffocating. Recall the absinth kicks of “Moulin Rouge!”? This “Gatsby” is all about that, in 3D. We open with narrator Nick (Tobey Maguire) as a novelist/patient inside a sanitarium, a wrecked shell encouraged to write of the incident that derailed his life: His dealings with mysterious Gatsby (Leonardo DiCaprio), waif cousin Daisy (Carey Mulligan) and her husband (Joel Edgerton). Yes, McGuire is playing Nick as Fitzgerald. How quaint. Luhrmann smartly mines deeper, fuller emotions, and DiCaprio nails the role of a delusional man who drops the term “old sport!,” but has no idea what it means, and does not know his life’s goal is a dead end. In a flip from the ’74 version, it is Maguire who is miscast, giving a “Spider-Man”-era wide-eyed, gawky performance that looks ridiculous on a man his age. The hip-hop fueled parties staged by Luhrmann drown satire, while the visual barrage of Nick’s written words floating in air reminded me of the quiet of reading a book. There is no quiet here. Only noise. C+

The Thing (2011)

The makers behind “The Thing” insisted from Day One they were not remaking John Carpenter’s classic 1982 horror-in-Antarctica thriller of the same name, but building a prequel story to tell us what happened before a creature attacked an American-led camp headed by Kurt Russell. But this is a remake in every scene and sense, ironic for a film about a mysterious, murderous alien force that perfectly replicates its victims. Joel Edgerton (a pilot) and Mary Elizabeth Winstead (a scientist) lead the cold cast, a camp full of interchangeable Norwegians who stumble upon a space ship and a seemingly dead creature. I didn’t wince or jump once, distracted to madness on how every idea on screen is tired and boxed-in, and how CGI will never equal the gross, hand-built physical effects of 30 years ago. First-time film director Matthijs van Heijningen Jr. is anti-John Carpenter, taking us out of the movie’s best spot – a mid-flight helicopter ride where the monster attacks -- just as it begins, and puts us on the ground. In the snow. Terrible. This Thing is bloodless, a Xerox. C-

Warrior (2011)

“Warrior” is a two-for-one “Rocky” tale set inside the metal cages of Mixed Martial Arts. Tom Hardy is Rocky 1, a hulking slab of muscle and seething anger named Tommy Riordan, returned home to visit his Found Jesus father (Nick Nolte), a recovering alcoholic whose past sins run deep. In Philly is Rocky 2, Brendan Conlon (Joel Edgerton), an ex-MMA pro now teaching high school physics. The kicker: The men are brothers, split apart by the old man’s carnage. Directed by Gavin O’Connor, who made “Miracle,” the movie plays with every sport film cliché around from the loyal wife to the hero with a dark secret. Nolte’s listening to “Moby Dick” on CD pushes the edge of symbolism, that white whale being his sin. It could have been cut. But like “Miracle,” this is a go-ahead-and-cheer film with the brother-against-brother final bout dishing out drama that hurts. Nolte plays regret so well, and Edgerton (“Animal Kingdom”) is heroic as the underdog fighting to pay the mortgage. But this is Hardy’s film. He stalks and defeats opponents with a Raging Bull glare, and builds on the grisly prison flick “Bronson” and his scene-stealing from “Inception.” He’s up next as the steroid-crazed Bane in “Dark Knight Rises.” Batman better watch his back. B