“Nothing happens, nobody comes, nobody goes it’s awful.”
 

 - Samuel Beckett, Waiting for Godot

The present blog is based on a classroom task which is assigned by Dr. Dilip Barad Sir that required viewing critical videos related to existentialism.

This blog reflects on the major themes discussed in the videos, raises five thought-provoking questions inspired by them, identifies my favourite video with reasons, and finally examines the key learning outcomes derived from this analytical exercise

Video 1: What Is Existentialism?

I am impressed by this video because it does not treat existentialism as a difficult or distant philosophy. Instead, it connects philosophical ideas directly to real human experiences like freedom, anxiety, despair, faith, and personal choice. The explanation of the Existential Triangle individuality, freedom, and passions helped me understand how these ideas are interconnected in everyday life. The video also impressed me because it does not give ready-made answers; it encourages the viewer to think independently and question the influence of society or the “herd.” Most importantly, it presents difficult emotions such as anguish and despair not as weaknesses, but as signs of an authentic and conscious life. This honest and personal approach made the philosophy feel relevant, meaningful, and deeply thought-provoking.

Video 2: The Myth of Sisyphus: The Absurd Reasoning (Feeling of the Absurd)

Why I Am Impressed by The Myth of Sisyphus

I am impressed by Albert Camus’s The Myth of Sisyphus because it dares to ask the most honest and uncomfortable question: is life worth living? Instead of avoiding this question or covering it with comforting beliefs, Camus faces it directly and seriously.

What impresses me most is Camus’s idea that the absence of meaning does not automatically lead to suicide. This challenges a common assumption that life must have a purpose to be worth living. His argument feels bold and refreshing because it refuses easy conclusions and emotional reactions.

I am also impressed by how Camus explains the feeling of the absurd. He shows that absurdity is not something distant or rareit begins when we stop living mechanically and start thinking. This made me reflect on my own daily routine and question how often I truly live consciously.

Another reason I am impressed is Camus’s intellectual honesty. He does not offer false hope, religious comfort, or ready-made answers. Instead, he encourages us to stay with the problem and examine it logically. This commitment to truth, even when it is uncomfortable, makes his philosophy powerful.

Finally, I am impressed by Camus’s suggestion that continuing to live in full awareness of life’s absurdity is itself a form of courage. Rather than escaping through death, he proposes facing life as it is. This idea transforms existence from something meaningless into something deeply human.

Video 3: The Myth of Sisyphus: the notion of philosophical suicide 

Why This Impressed Me

This report impressed me because it explains Albert Camus’ idea of the absurd in a very clear and engaging way. It shows that the absurd is not something inside humans or the world alone, but a conflict between our search for meaning and the silence of the universe.

I was especially impressed by the explanation of philosophical suicide. The report clearly explains why Camus criticizes thinkers like Kierkegaard. Instead of living with the absurd, they escape it by taking a leap of faith. Camus believes this destroys intellectual honesty, and this idea made me rethink how people often choose comfort over truth.

Another strong point is the use of simple, everyday examples, such as routine moments in daily life, to explain complex philosophical ideas. This makes the philosophy easier to understand and more relatable.

The report also impressed me because it focuses on choosing truth over comfort. It does not give false hope or easy answers but encourages us to face reality honestly.

Overall, I am impressed because the report stays true to Camus’ philosophy. It teaches us that the absurd is not something to escape from, but something we must accept and live with consciously.

Video 4: Dadaism, Nihilism and Existentialism

I am impressed by this piece because it challenges the common belief that Dadaism was meaningless or purely chaotic. Instead, it presents Dada as a powerful and conscious response to the violence and moral failure of World War I. The essay explains how Dada was not about destruction for its own sake, but about questioning false values and creating space for new ways of thinking. I am especially impressed by how it connects Dadaism with philosophy, language, and existentialism, showing its deeper intellectual purpose. The strong language and thoughtful arguments make the movement feel relevant even today, which makes the essay engaging and impactful.

Video 5: Existentialism - a gloomy philosophy 

I am impressed by this writing because it completely changes the way existentialism is usually misunderstood. Instead of presenting it as a dark or pessimistic philosophy, it explains existentialism as a source of strength, courage, and liberation. The idea that despair is a diagnostic rather than the final condition is especially powerful—it shows that confronting suffering is the first step toward meaningful action. I also admire how the text emphasizes responsibility and choice, making freedom feel serious and purposeful rather than careless. Overall, this piece makes existentialism feel relevant, hopeful, and deeply human, not gloomy or detached from real life.

Video 6: Existentialism and Nihilism: Is it one and the same?

I am impressed by “Beyond the Void: Why Existentialism is the Antidote to Nihilism” because it completely changed the way I look at existentialism. Instead of presenting it as dark or depressing, the essay shows it as a philosophy of courage and resistance. What affected me most is the idea that meaninglessness is not something to fear but something that calls us to act. The discussion of individuality in Kierkegaard, value-creation in Nietzsche, and rebellion in Camus made me realize that existentialism places responsibility back into human hands. I especially connect with the contrast between passive acceptance and active rebellion, because it reflects how easy it is today to feel tired, detached, or powerless. Rather than encouraging despair, this essay motivates the reader to confront the void and choose engagement, struggle, and self-creation. That empowering message is what truly impressed me.

Video 7: Let us introduce Existentialism again!

I am impressed by this essay because it speaks honestly about the feeling of being lost in modern life. Instead of treating confusion as a problem, it shows it as the starting point of self-understanding. The idea that we must create our own meaning feels heavy, but also empowering. It made me reflect on how often we follow social expectations instead of making conscious choices for ourselves. This essay does not offer easy comfort, but it encourages courage, responsibility, and authenticity, which is why it left a strong impression on me.

Video 8: Explain like I'm Five: Existentialism and Nietzsche:

It questions authority you’ve grown up accepting, names the discomfort behind “because I said so,” and gives that rebellion an intellectual voice. It doesn’t comfort you with easy morality it challenges you to think about freedom, responsibility, and power in an unsettling way.

Most of all, it trusts you as a reader. It assumes you’re strong enough to sit with uncomfortable ideas instead of rejecting them outright. That mix of recognition, challenge, and honesty is what makes it stay with you and why it impresses you.

Video 9: Why I like Existentialism? Eric Dodson

I am impressed by this video because it explains existentialism in a very simple and relatable way. The video highlights how existentialism focuses on individual freedom, personal choice, and responsibility, which feels very relevant to modern life. It made me realise that meaning in life is not given by society, religion, or fate, but is something each person has to create for themselves. I was especially impressed by the idea that even though life can seem meaningless or uncertain, humans still have the power to choose their actions and shape their identity. The video encouraged me to think deeply about my own decisions, passions, and individuality, which is why it left a strong impact on me.

Video 10: Let us sum up: From Essentialism to Existentialism

I am impressed by this video because it explains a complex philosophical idea   existentialism — in a way that is easy to understand and engaging. The video challenges the traditional belief that life has a predetermined purpose and instead shows how people can create their own meaning through their choices and actions. This idea of freedom and responsibility really stood out to me because it makes you think deeply about how your own decisions shape who you are — rather than just following what others expect. The way the video contrasts essentialism with existentialism and highlights concepts like authentic living and the importance of choosing your own values made the topic feel personally relevant and inspiring. Overall, it helped me see that even in a world without inherent meaning, we can give our lives purpose through the way we choose to live.

Five Thought-Provoking Questions (with Reasons)

1. If life has no fixed meaning, how far am I truly responsible for creating my own purpose?
   This question provokes my thinking because existentialism repeatedly stresses freedom along with responsibility. It made me reflect on whether I genuinely take responsibility for my choices or quietly rely on society, tradition, or circumstances to define my life.

2. Is choosing comfort through belief or routine a form of escape from truth, as Camus suggests?
   This question challenges my everyday habits. It made me think about how often people (including myself) prefer comforting explanations rather than facing uncertainty and discomfort honestly.

3. Can despair and anxiety be signs of awareness rather than weakness?
   This question provokes my thoughts because existentialist thinkers treat suffering as meaningful. It made me reconsider negative emotions not as failures, but as indicators that a person is thinking deeply and living consciously.

4. What does it mean to live authentically in a world full of social pressure and expectations?
   This question forced me to reflect on my own life choices—how many are truly mine, and how many are shaped by fear of judgment, success standards, or social approval.

5. Is rebellion against meaninglessness an act of courage or simply another way to cope with life?
   This question emerged from Camus and Nietzsche. It made me think about whether rebellion and value-creation are genuine acts of strength or necessary responses to the silence of the universe.

Learning Outcomes from This Blog

Through this blog and the related videos, I gained several important learning outcomes:

• I developed a clear understanding of existentialism as a philosophy focused on individual freedom, choice, responsibility, and authenticity rather than pessimism.

• I learned that meaning is not discovered but created, and that human beings must actively participate in shaping their identity and values.

• I understood Albert Camus’s idea of the absurd and how accepting it honestly is different from escaping it through religion or blind hope.

• I learned to differentiate between existentialism and nihilism, realizing that existentialism responds to meaninglessness with action, responsibility, and courage.

• Most importantly, I learned to view confusion, despair, and anxiety as starting points for self-reflection, not as signs of failure.

Overall, this blog helped me see existentialism not just as a philosophical theory, but as a practical way of understanding life, freedom, and personal responsibility in the modern world.

Rewriting The Great Gatsby: Novel to Film

This blog is assigned by Dr. Barad Sir,I write this blog to critically examine how a literary classic like The Great Gatsby changes meaning when it is adapted into a modern film. Rather than judging the film only on whether it is “faithful” to the novel, this blog applies contemporary adaptation theory to understand why certain changes were made and how those changes affect interpretation. Writing this blog allowed me to move beyond simple summary and engage in analytical thinking connecting literature, film studies, philosophy, and socio-political context. It also helped me understand that adaptations are creative reinterpretations shaped by their historical moment, medium, and audience, not merely reproductions of a source text. Click Here

Adapting The Great Gatsby for the screen has always meant confronting a central paradox: how can a novel so deeply rooted in its language, irony, and social observation survive translation into a medium driven by spectacle, sound, and immediacy? Baz Luhrmann’s 2013 film does not attempt a “faithful” reproduction of Fitzgerald’s text; instead, it stages a bold negotiation between literature and cinema, past and present, subtlety and excess. This blog explores the adaptation through contemporary theories of fidelity, drawing on Linda Hutcheon’s distinction between “knowing” and “unknowing” audiences and Alain Badiou’s idea of fidelity to a “Truth Event.” By examining narrative omissions, character reconstruction, visual extravagance, and socio-political context, the discussion argues that Luhrmann’s Gatsby functions less as a translation and more as a refraction one that reimagines Fitzgerald’s critique of the American Dream for a post-2008, hyper-modern world.

The Architecture of Disillusionment: Baz Luhrmann’s The Great Gatsby and the Mechanics of Intersemiotic Transformation

The cinematic adaptation of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s 1925 novel The Great Gatsby by Baz Luhrmann in 2013 serves as a profound case study in the evolution of adaptation studies, moving beyond the reductive binary of fidelity to explore the complexities of intersemiotic translation and the cultural polysystem. Luhrmann’s work is not a mere replication of the source text but a "repetition without replication," a conceptual framework championed by Linda Hutcheon that seeks to balance the aesthetic autonomy of the film with the canonical weight of the originating material. By employing the "Red Curtain" style a directorial signature characterized by heightened artifice, theatricality, and a rejection of naturalism Luhrmann attempts to bridge the historical chasm between the Jazz Age and the early twenty-first century, utilizing contemporary cultural codes to evoke the same "Truth Event" that Fitzgerald captured during the rupture of modernity. This report provides an exhaustive analysis of the film’s narrative framing, theoretical grounding, character reconstruction, and visual semiotics, contextualizing the work within the socio-political realities of both 1925 and 2013.   

Part I: The Frame Narrative and the "Writerly" Text

The most radical structural departure in Luhrmann’s adaptation is the imposition of a frame narrative that places Nick Carraway in the Perkins Sanitarium, struggling with "morbid alcoholism," "insomnia," and "fits of anger". This device fundamentally alters the audience's engagement with the narrator, shifting Nick from a seemingly objective, if impressionable, observer to a clinical patient attempting to process trauma through the act of writing.   

The Sanitarium Device: Pathologizing the Moral Compass

Scholars have noted that the sanitarium addition serves to "literalize" the act of writing, providing a tangible "cause and effect" for a visual medium that often struggles to convey the internal processes of a literary narrator. In Fitzgerald’s novel, Nick’s narration is a retrospective account, but the setting and motivation for his writing remain ethereal. Luhrmann’s decision to place Nick in a psychiatric facility connotes a "gloomy depression" rooted in his experiences in West Egg, effectively externalizing his internal monologue as a form of therapeutic confession.   

However, this pathologization risks undermining Nick’s role as the story’s moral compass. In the original text, Nick famously claims to be "one of the few honest people" he has ever known, and his father’s advice to reserve judgment provides the ethical framework for the entire narrative. By diagnosing him with clinical ailments, the film adds a layer of "contradiction and ambiguity" to the narration. The story becomes a subjective, perhaps fragmented, memory of a man recovering from the "underside of the Roaring Twenties". This shift transforms the narration from a social critique into a personal psychological defense mechanism specifically, a struggle against the denial of his own complicity in the tragedy. While this creates a necessary narrative anchor for the film's extensive use of voice-over, it simultaneously reduces the novel's complexity by suggesting that Nick’s disillusionment is a pathology to be cured rather than a valid philosophical response to a corrupt society.   

The Cinematic Poem and the Reification of Prose

Luhrmann describes his technique of superimposing floating text over the screen as a "cinematic poem" or "poetic glue" intended to retain the linguistic beauty of Fitzgerald’s prose. In sequences like the description of the Valley of Ashes, words physically manifest in the cinematic space, blurring the boundaries between the "originating text" and the adaptation. This technique serves to "fix meanings" while highlighting the symbolic nature of the landscape, making the abstract thoughts of the narrator "solid" visual elements.   

Critics, however, have characterized this as a form of "noble literalism" or a "quotational quality" that may distance the viewer from the diegetic reality. By forcing the audience to read the text while viewing the image, Luhrmann creates a "multimodal" experience that emphasizes the film's identity as a constructed work of art. This reification of the prose can be seen as a defensive move against the perceived "parasitic" nature of film a term used by Virginia Woolf to describe the medium's relationship to literature. Instead of allowing the visuals to speak for themselves, the floating text demands that the viewer acknowledge the literary authority of the source, potentially trapping the film in a state of "intersemiotic translocation" where the two sign systems word and image—compete rather than harmonize.

Part II: Adaptation Theory and the Concept of Fidelity

The debate surrounding "fidelity" remains central to the study of The Great Gatsby. Contemporary scholars increasingly reject the idea of an adaptation being "faithful" in a literal sense, instead viewing it as a "refraction" of the source material through a new sociocultural lens.   

Hutcheon’s "Knowing" vs. "Unknowing" Audience

Linda Hutcheon’s theory of adaptation emphasizes that a successful work must cater to two distinct groups: the "knowing" audience, familiar with the original text, and the "unknowing" audience, for whom the film is a primary experience. Luhrmann’s adaptation achieves this through "repetition without replication," maintaining key narrative beats while distilling the story's complexity to fit the conventions of Hollywood cinema.   

The film’s ending provides a significant example of this distillation. By omitting the character of Henry Gatz and the funeral procession, the film focuses entirely on Nick’s personal devotion to Gatsby. For the "knowing" audience, this omission profoundly alters the understanding of Gatsby’s isolation. In the novel, the presence of his father highlights the humble origins Gatsby tried to erase, while the empty funeral serves as a scathing critique of the "careless" socialites who enjoyed his hospitality but abandoned him in death. By stripping away these elements, the film shifts the genre from a broad social critique toward a tragic romance. This change satisfies the "unknowing" audience’s desire for a streamlined emotional arc, but it arguably sacrifices the novel’s nuanced exploration of the "class permanence" that Gatsby could never overcome.   

Alain Badiou and the "Truth Event"

A more sophisticated approach to fidelity is found in the philosophy of Alain Badiou, who suggests that an adaptation should be faithful not to the literal text but to the "Truth Event" it represents. In the context of The Great Gatsby, the Truth Event is the rupture of modernity the radical shift in culture, technology, and social norms during the 1920s.   

Luhrmann’s use of anachronistic music, specifically the integration of hip-hop and contemporary pop, is an act of Badiouian fidelity. Luhrmann argues that for a 21st-century audience, jazz the rebellious music of the 1920s has become "classy" or "relaxing," losing its "cultural rupture" potential. By substituting it with hip-hop, he performs an "intersemiotic translation" of the music's affective impact. This choice allows the modern viewer to experience the same sense of "seismic event" and "dangerous modernity" that a 1925 reader would have felt.While this anachronism betrays the historical specificity of the Jazz Age, it remains faithful to the energy and the "evental site" of Fitzgerald's world a world defined by rapid change and "ontological uncertainty".   

Part III: Characterization, Performance, and the "Red Curtain"

The characterization in Luhrmann’s film is deeply influenced by the "Red Curtain" style, which prioritizes iconic, heightened portrayals over the subtle, gradual revelations found in the novel.   

Gatsby: Romantic Hero vs. Criminal Delusion

The film significantly softens Gatsby’s criminal edge to solidify his role as a "romantic figure". In the novel, Gatsby’s involvement in organized crime, bootlegging, and bond fraud is revealed slowly, maintaining a tension between his noble aspirations and his corrupt methods. The film, however, deletes specific scenes that provide details of his underworld dealings, such as the phone calls from Detroit that implicate him in broader fraud schemes.   

DiCaprio’s portrayal emphasizes Gatsby’s "misunderstood naiveté" and his "corrupted dream". While the film shows Gatsby losing his temper during these calls, the agitation is framed as a distraction from his obsession with Daisy rather than a symptom of his criminal life. The visual splendor of the film the "Red Curtain" theatricality often overwhelms the critique of Gatsby’s delusions. The audience is encouraged to "root for Gatsby," hoping the phone call beside the pool is from Daisy, even as the narrative reveals the futility of his quest. This transformation turns Gatsby into a victim of "careless people" and circumstance rather than a man destroyed by the moral compromises inherent in his "deliberately exceptional" persona.   

The Reconstruction of Daisy Buchanan

In Fitzgerald’s novel, Daisy is often characterized as a woman of "careless" and shallow disposition, a product of the "old money" elite who feel no need to fight for status. Luhrmann’s film reconstructs Daisy to make Gatsby’s five-year obsession plausible for a contemporary audience. To achieve this, actress Carey Mulligan researched the life of Ginevra King, Fitzgerald’s real-life inspiration for the character, adding a layer of "translational subjectivity" to the role.   

The film makes strategic cuts to preserve Daisy's appeal, such as omitting scenes that demonstrate her lack of maternal instinct. In the reunion scene at Nick’s house, the film gives Daisy more agency; she is shown "blissfully engaged" and initiates physical contact with Gatsby, suggesting a mutual desire for their illicit affair. However, critics argue that by framing the entire story through Nick’s clinical recovery and Gatsby’s "juvenile dream," the film ultimately strips Daisy of true agency. She is depicted as a "simple-minded woman" whose concerns lack profundity, a representation that adheres to the ideological codes of patriarchy even as it tries to make her a more sympathetic romantic lead.   

Character	Novel Representation	Film Representation	Narrative Shift
Jay Gatsby	Ambiguous criminal/idealist	Tragic romantic hero	Softens corruption
Daisy Buchanan	Shallow and careless	Magnetic/Ginevra King-like	Plausibility of obsession
Tom Buchanan	"Old Money" arrogance	Hyper-masculine "Snidely Whiplash"	Heightens antagonism
Nick Carraway	Detached observer	Traumatized participant	Validates narration

  

Part IV: Visual Style and Socio-Political Context

Luhrmann’s use of 3D technology and the "vortex" camera movement in the party scenes serves as a multimodal critique of wealth, though its effectiveness remains a subject of intense debate.   

The Party Scene: Vortex and 3D Technology

The party sequences in the 2013 adaptation are among the most opulent in film history, described as having a "frenetic beauty" and an "orgasmic pitch". Luhrmann utilizes "vortex" camera movements rapid, swirling shots that deny the viewer a sense of stable ground to illustrate the "intoxicating fantasy" of wealth. The 3D technology functions as an "added extravagance," swooping through cityscapes and crowded ballrooms to create a sense of "controlled vertigo".   

However, there is a contradiction in this technique. While it is intended to critique the hollow "orgiastic" wealth of the 1920s, the visual wonder and "razzle-dazzle" often inadvertently celebrate the consumerism Fitzgerald was satirizing. Some critics argue that the 3D "flattened" the characters and story, turning the Great American Novel into a "pop-up book" where consumption is confirmed as the "glittering route to status and power". Instead of revealing the emptiness beneath the surface, the film’s "Audiovisual Sublime" may simply replicate the seductive allure of the lifestyle it claims to critique.   

Contextualizing the American Dream: 1925 vs. 2013

The 2013 film was released in the wake of the 2008 global financial crisis, a timing that Luhrmann used to justify the story’s relevance. He cited the "moral rubberiness" of Wall Street and the "confusion in national moral dials" as modern parallels to the corruption Fitzgerald observed in the 1920s. In this context, the "Green Light" represents a post-2008 understanding of the American Dream: a receding goal that remains alluring despite the awareness of its impossibility.   

The film’s depiction of the "Valley of Ashes" overlooked by the giant billboard of Dr. T.J. Eckleberg’s eyes symbolizes the "industrial wasteland" created by the "indolent rich". While the 1925 novel focused on the shift from Victorian values toward the Jazz Age, the 2013 film uses these symbols to reflect a contemporary "hyper-reality" where the "image electronically airbrushed" masks a damaged present. The film ultimately emphasizes the "glamour of the pursuit" even as it acknowledges the "soul-crushing" reality of the outcome.   

Part V: Creative Response : The Plaza Hotel Confrontation

As a scriptwriter tasked with adapting the "Plaza Hotel" confrontation scene, the primary challenge lies in negotiating the tension between "fidelity to the book" (character consistency) and "fidelity to the medium" (dramatic tension).

In Fitzgerald’s source material, the scene is defined by an internal, psychological shift. As Tom grills Gatsby about his past, Nick observes Gatsby’s expression changing "as if he had killed a man," but there is no physical contact. This understated revelation is powerful in prose, where the narrator can guide the reader’s perception of the character’s internal collapse. However, in a cinematic adaptation especially one utilizing Luhrmann’s "Red Curtain" style relying solely on an internal shift risks losing the "explosive, climactic action" that the narrative’s "boiling point" heat demands.   

Luhrmann’s film adds a "mini tussle," where Gatsby loses his temper, grabs Tom’s shirt, and raises a fist while his face is "contorted into a fierce rictus of madness". This addition "literalizes" Gatsby’s psychological disintegration, visually communicating to the audience that his passion has crossed the threshold into insanity.   

From the perspective of a scriptwriter, I would choose to keep the addition of Gatsby losing his temper. This decision prioritizes dramatic tension and fidelity to the medium. While it may appear to contradict Gatsby’s "composition" in the book, it is consistent with the film’s established characterization of Gatsby as a man driven by a "deeply obsessed" and "juvenile" dream. The physical explosion provides a necessary payoff for the audience, transforming the abstract "corruption" of his past into a visible, uncontrollable madness that justifies Daisy’s subsequent decision to retreat into the safety of Tom’s world. In a medium that values externalized conflict, this "potent physicality" more effectively conveys the tragic collapse of Gatsby’s self-made persona than a quiet change in expression could achieve.   

Conclusion: The Infinite Modernity of Gatsby

The 2013 adaptation of The Great Gatsby is a definitive example of how "intersemiotic translation" can breathe new life into a canonical text while simultaneously sparking debate about the limits of creative transformation. Baz Luhrmann’s reliance on the "Red Curtain" style and Badiouian fidelity allows the film to resonate with a 21st-century audience, utilizing modern cultural codes like hip-hop and 3D technology to replicate the "cultural rupture" of the 1920s. While the sanitarium frame narrative and the softening of Gatsby's criminal activities may reduce some of the novel's thematic complexity, they provide a coherent narrative structure for a visual medium. Ultimately, the film stands as an autonomous artistic product that captures the "ecstatic liveliness" of the era, illustrating that the American Dream and the tragic pursuit of it remains an infinite and modern concern, regardless of the medium through which it is told.