I have only been drunk twice in my life, and the second time was when I met Baz Lurhman and he shoved thirty pints down my neck, an imperial ton of coke up my nose and made us both jump up and down like a little girl on a space hopper, shouting "I'm a camera! I'm a camera!".
"You can't repeat the past" "Repeat the past? ...Why, of course you can" "Yeah, you're probably right, Leo. I should've set Gatsby in the modern day and given them all bazookas."
"I've never seen such beautiful shirts!" "Haven't you seen Moulin Rouge?"
It takes two to make an accident. It takes a third and a large number of headache tablets to get it on camera.
"She's got an indiscreet voice," I remarked, "It's full of -" I hesitated. "Her voice is full of money," he said suddenly. Or at least it was until Baz Lurhman swung by, rung her vocal chords dry and spent it on a $90m remake of A Tale of Two Cities.
In my younger and more vulnerable years, my father gave me some advice that I have been turning over in my mind ever since. "Make the camera do these great big swoops all the time" he told me, "The more nauseous the audience feels, the better"
Daisy and Jordan lay upon an enormous couch, like silver idols weighing down their own white dresses against the singing breeze of the fans. Every constantly walked towards, then away from, then towards, then away from them, just to appreciate their majesty in full Baz-O-Vision.
"I just have these massive parties." Said Gatsby, indiscretely. "Dunno why. I just do."
After Gatsby's death, the East was haunted for me like that, distorted like a shot in a Baz Lurhman movie.
There are only the pursued, the pursuing, the busy and the tired, but I've only got two hours to work with, so let's forget about the busy and the tired
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