Castings can make or break a legacy. Honestly, when people talk about the actors in Great Gatsby, they usually default to Leonardo DiCaprio’s clinking champagne glass meme. It’s iconic. But if you dig into the history of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s masterpiece on screen, the casting choices tell a much weirder, more complicated story about Hollywood than just "who looked good in a tuxedo."
Baz Luhrmann’s 2013 spectacle wasn’t the first time we tried to capture Gatsby’s "recurrent blue lawn." Not even close. We’ve seen everyone from silent film stars to 70s heartthrobs try to embody that "extraordinary gift for hope." Some of them nailed it. Others? Well, they felt like they were wearing a costume rather than a soul.
The DiCaprio Era: Did he actually get Jay Gatsby?
Leo was basically born to play a tragic billionaire with a fake accent. By the time 2013 rolled around, he had the "old money" (even if it was new money) vibe down to a science. His Jay Gatsby was frantic. It was desperate. Most people forget that in the book, Gatsby isn't just a cool, calm socialite; he's a guy who is constantly on the verge of a panic attack because he's terrified his past will catch up to him.
DiCaprio captured that twitchiness perfectly.
Then you have Carey Mulligan as Daisy Buchanan. This was polarizing. Some critics, like those at The Hollywood Reporter at the time, felt she was almost too sympathetic. Daisy is supposed to be "careless," a beautiful little fool who smashes things up and retreats into her money. Mulligan gave her a soul, which some purists hated. But hey, that's the risk you take when you cast actors who actually want to find the humanity in monsters.
Tobey Maguire as Nick Carraway was... a choice. Being the narrator is a thankless job. You have to stand in the corner and look judgingly at everyone while they drink illegal gin. Tobey’s wide-eyed, almost shell-shocked expression worked for some, while others felt he was just Peter Parker in a vest. It’s a tough gig.
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Looking back at the 1974 "Prestige" cast
Before Leo, there was Robert Redford.
The 1974 version is a very different beast. It was written by Francis Ford Coppola—yeah, The Godfather guy—and it should have been a slam dunk. Redford was at the height of his "golden boy" powers. But looking back, many film historians argue he was too perfect. Gatsby needs a layer of grit under the polish. Redford was so handsome and composed that you never really believed he was a bootlegger from the Midwest who killed people to get ahead. He was just Robert Redford in a very nice white suit.
Mia Farrow’s Daisy was a whole other vibe. She was flighty, ethereal, and almost ghostly. While Mulligan was grounded, Farrow felt like she might float away if she wasn't wearing enough jewelry.
The supporting players who stole the show
- Joel Edgerton (2013) as Tom Buchanan: Honestly, he might be the best actor in any Gatsby adaptation. He made Tom terrifying but also pathetic. You hated him, but you understood why he was the way he was.
- Bruce Dern (1974) as Tom Buchanan: Dern played Tom with a raw, aggressive nastiness. He didn't have Edgerton’s "sad dad" energy; he was just a bully.
- Elizabeth Debicki (2013) as Jordan Baker: She was a revelation. Towering, cynical, and utterly bored with the world. She looked like she stepped straight out of a 1920s Vogue sketch.
Why the 1949 version is the one nobody talks about
There’s a "lost" Gatsby. Well, not lost, just ignored. Alan Ladd played the titular character in 1949. Because of the Hays Code—those strict moral rules Hollywood had back then—they couldn't really show Gatsby's criminal life properly. It turned into a weird film noir. Ladd was a "tough guy" actor, so his Gatsby felt more like a gangster and less like a romantic. It’s a fascinating watch if only to see how much the actors in Great Gatsby are forced to change based on the decade they’re filming in.
The "Great" debate: Accuracy vs. Aura
When we talk about the actors in Great Gatsby, we're really talking about the tension between Fitzgerald’s prose and Hollywood’s need for a "leading man."
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In the novel, Gatsby is described as being in his early thirties. He has a "quality of eternal reassurance" in his smile. But he’s also a fraud. Every actor who takes the role has to decide: am I playing the man Gatsby wants to be, or the man he actually is?
DiCaprio leaned into the performance of being Gatsby. Redford leaned into the legend of Gatsby. Alan Ladd leaned into the criminal reality of Gatsby.
And then there's the 2000 TV movie starring Paul Rudd as Nick Carraway. Yes, that happened. Toby Stephens played Gatsby. It’s a much more low-key affair, but Stephens actually captured the "striving" nature of the character better than the big-budget stars. He felt like a guy who was trying too hard, which is exactly what Jay Gatsby is.
How casting shapes our memory of the 20s
Think about it. Our visual memory of the Roaring Twenties isn't based on history books. It’s based on these movies. We see Isla Fisher as Myrtle Wilson—bright, loud, desperate—and that becomes our blueprint for the "working class" of the Jazz Age. Fisher was incredible because she wasn't afraid to be ugly in a movie that was obsessed with beauty. Her death scene (no spoilers, but the book has been out for a century) is one of the few moments in the 2013 film that feels genuinely visceral and tragic.
On the flip side, many argue that the actors in Great Gatsby have become too "glamorous." Fitzgerald was writing a critique of the American Dream. He was saying it’s all a lie. When you cast the most beautiful people in the world and dress them in Prada (literally, Miuccia Prada did the costumes for the Luhrmann version), the message gets a bit muddled. You start wanting to be at the party instead of realizing the party is a funeral.
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Actionable ways to experience the Gatsby legacy
If you're a fan of the story or the performances, don't just stop at the 2013 movie. To really understand the nuance of these roles, you should compare the "key" scenes across versions.
Specifically, look at the "Plaza Hotel" confrontation scene where Tom and Gatsby finally square off.
- Watch the 2013 version: Notice how DiCaprio loses his temper. It’s a violent, terrifying break in his "Old Sport" persona. It shows the "Oxford Man" is a total fabrication.
- Watch the 1974 version: Observe how Redford stays relatively contained. It’s a battle of status rather than a battle of emotions.
- Read the text: Go back to Chapter 7 of the novel. Look at how Nick describes Gatsby’s face. He says Gatsby looked as if he had "killed a man."
By comparing these, you see how much power the actors have in interpreting Fitzgerald's vague, poetic descriptions.
If you're really into the "Gatsby-core" aesthetic, look into the work of casting directors like Ellen Lewis (for the 2013 film). They didn't just look for famous faces; they looked for people who could handle the heightened, almost Shakespearean dialogue while wearing forty pounds of beads or a three-piece wool suit in a simulated heatwave.
The next time you see a clip of the actors in Great Gatsby, look past the sparkle. Look at the eyes. The best performances in these films are the ones where you can see the character realizing that they can't actually repeat the past—no matter how much money they spend or how many yellow cars they buy.