I REMEMBER the first time I saw Baz Luhrmann’s Moulin Rouge that the first half-hour or so was so frenetic, so full-on, so in your face in both sound and visuals that I wanted to scream out, “Stop it, calm down, just stay still for a minute”.

Luhrmann’s adaptation of F Scott Fitzgerald’s roaring 1920s jazz-age novel is much the same. This time I was prepared and went along for the ride, and this really is a rollercoaster of a movie that has the director’s stylish imprint on every frame. It’s not without its faults, but rather than criticise Luhrmann we should perhaps give thanks that here’s a film-maker who takes such great care and pride in his work.

His decision to film in 3D – one of the first dramas to use this fashionable tool usually reserved for blockbusters and horror movies – will also inflame opinion as it adds yet another layer of visuals to the already overcrowded palette of cinematic tricks employed by him.

As you’d expect, his Gatsby looks fabulous. From the 1920s costumes and cars to the huge mansions built for the movie. Nothing succeeds like excess as he stages cast-of-thousands parties and puts his characters on sets the size of an ocean liner. It also sounds fabulous with – again another Luhrmann trademark – hip hop and other contemporary sounds.

Looks aren’t everything and this Gatsby lacks the emotional heart it should have. It’s not so much that the actors are overshadowed by the extravagant sights and sounds, more that they are undernourished by the script.

In particular, Carey Mulligan’s Daisy disappoints, although her character is such a contradiction of emotions that perhaps she’s impossible to play. She’s the object of millionaire-across-the-bay Jay Gatsby’s romantic attention. She’s the love of his life and he was the love of hers until he went off to make his fortune in 1920s New York.

She didn’t wait for him, marrying philandering polo player Tom Buchanan instead.

Re-enter Gatsby, living in the grand mansion across the water from the Buchanans and throwing expensive parties, hoping to attract her attention.

Leonardo DiCaprio makes a decent enough Gatsby, carrying off pink suits and yellow cars as well as convincing us of his love, well obsession, with Daisy. Unfortunately Mulligan offers no reason why she has this power over him, while Joel Edgerton’s Tom veers towards melodramatic villain you feel like booing.

Luhrmann and co-writer Craig Pearce use narrator Nick Carraway (Tobey Maguire, geekish and gormless) to frame the action as he writes the story of Gatsby, part of his therapy for his alcoholism and anxiety. The camera stops its ducking and diving once the party is over, replaced by the big confrontation scenes, not to mention a car accident and a shooting. Then Luhrmann lets the people – not the sets – do the acting.

  • The Great Gatsby (12A, 139 mins. Now showing in cinemas).