FEAR AND LOATHING IN LAS VEGAS
Starring Johnny Depp and Benicio del Toro
Written by Alex Cox, Tod Davies, Terry Gilliam and Tony Grisoni
Directed by Terry Gilliam
I've always preferred mushrooms to blotter acid. Dropping acid is like riding a roller coaster blindfolded; you have no idea where the peaks and valleys are, no idea when the next terrifying decent will send your stomach into your throat, and no idea how long the ride will last. Then there's the hard knot in your gut and the clenched teeth that come with ingesting a strychnine-laced dose. Mushrooms, on the other hand, offer the psychedelic equivalent of a leisurely ride on a Ferris wheel: a steady, reassuring assent, a short period of thrilling motion and color, and then a smooth landing. Acid is for daredevils; mushrooms are for refined seekers of joy.
My point is that in FEAR AND LOATHING IN LAS VEGAS, director Terry Gilliam has made an acid movie, when I wish he would have made a mushroom movie. Full of shocking sight gags, aggressive images and grotesque comic performances, the film certainly offers something for those fans of Hunter S. Thompson's book who want to experience its twisted pharmacological world-view from the inside out. But for those of us who just want to enjoy a well-made film, Gilliam has produced a mixed bag.
FEAR AND LOATHING tells the ostensibly true story of how self-professed "gonzo" journalist Hunter S. Thompson (Johnny Depp) and Hispanic activist attorney Oscar Zeta Actosta (Benicio Del Toro), came to Las Vegas to cover a motorcycle race and found themselves trapped in the middle of a District Attorney's convention while ingesting every conceivable drug available to a man of means in 1971. Operating under the pseudonyms of "Raoul Duke" and "Dr. Gonzo", the two men careen into Vegas on an acid and mescaline bender, then hole up in a hotel suite to binge on amyl nitrite, cocaine, tequila and a rainbow of multi-colored uppers and downers. They terrorize every one they meet, mostly because every one they meet terrifies them. Duke hallucinates giant bats on the way into town, then is attacked by horrifying lizards in the casino lounge. Dr. Gonzo becomes enamored of a thick-bladed hunting knife and begs Duke to throw the tape player into the bathtub with him just as Jefferson Airplane's "White Rabbit" reaches its climax. And these guys don't just trash hotel rooms - they rape them, humiliate them and leave them for dead. That neither of them ends up dead or in jail is testament to blind luck or Providence, depending on your point of view.
Thompson's book, besides being a hilarious read, has stood the test of time as an important historical document. It simultaneously exposed the 60's drug culture for the sham that it was and exposed Las Vegas as the place where the American Dream came to die. Pontificate all you want about how the film illustrates Thompson's message, but the truth is that, stripped to its bare essentials, what Gilliam has wrought is a drug comedy. It's a Cheech and Chong movie. You're there to watch Depp and del Toro ingest a lot of chemicals and then laugh at the results: see Johnny take drugs, see Johnny fall down.
There's nothing wrong with this concept, but Gilliam tries too hard. This is a frantic movie - all sweaty close-ups, wide-angle lenses, Dutch tilts and other-worldly lighting schemes. There are times when Gilliam really does put a convincing representation of an acid trip on the screen. But to what end? Much of the dialogue comes verbatim from Thompson's book, and there are some priceless comic observations. But you're hard pressed to hear or digest them amidst all the jumbled camera work. This brings us to the performances, which strike me as all wrong. Depp plays Thompson as Groucho Marks filtered through George C. Scott in PATTON - a gimmicky performance which works against the biting satire of Thompson's dialogue. In between his several puking scenes, Del Toro fares better as Dr. Gonzo, but he also mumbles and sputters so many of his lines that their weight is lost. Watching these two made me wish that the movie had been made twenty years ago, with Dan Akroyd and John Belushi as the leads - now that would have been something to see.
It's interesting to note that Alex Cox, credited as a co-writer on the screenplay, was originally slated to direct before Gilliam took over. As much of a fan as I am of Gilliam's work, Cox would have been the better choice. SID AND NANCY, Cox's best work, covered essentially the same subject matter, but Cox was able to pull back and allow the characters of Sid Vicious and Nancy Spungen to carry the film. Gilliam commits the compound sin of over-directing his film while being uncertain of his purpose. What kind of movie was he trying to make, anyway? It doesn't try to be a cautionary tale, and it doesn't work as broad comedy. If he had considered more carefully his purpose, the result would have been a much more interesting film. But I don't want to be too hard on it. There are some truly funny moments, and if you're in a good enough mood you might get a kick out of it. I do, however, recommend watching FEAR AND LOATHING IN LAS VEGAS under the influence of your favorite controlled substance - I guarantee it will enhance the effect.
Grade: C-
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