I've had a copy of Hunter S. Thompson's Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas sitting on my bookshelf for years now, but only recently did I finally sit down and actually read it. My reason for avoiding the book for such a long time was because in college I took a number of creative writing classes populated by pretentious English majors who seemed to view the book as some sort of 20th century version of the Bible or the Koran, and Thompson as a Jesus or Muhammad figure. In that environment, it seemed a little too trendy to be a fan of the book, so I basically resisted reading it all throughout college, and it sat and collected dust.
After plowing through it last week, though, I have to say that those pompous English Lit nerds were absolutely right. It's a wonderful book, one of the most instantly quotable that I've ever read, and filled with hilarious anecdotes and two unforgettable characters, as Thompson (taking on the persona of Raoul Duke) sets forth on a drug-addled journey of self-destruction throughout Las Vegas, accompanied by his loutish attorney, Dr. Gonzo, all in the name of finding the (hazily defined, at least in the book) American Dream.
Fear and Loathing is still somewhat controversial to this day, as some critics have inevitably condemned the book as a glorification of hard drug abuse and deviant behavior in general. However, lurking underneath all of the mescaline- and acid-induced insanity of the narrative is the book's major point: it's an indictment of an entire generation that turned to mind-altering hallucinogens as a means of finding what they believed was a more acceptable means of dealing with society's problems. Instead of making a difference, though, this generation simply faded slowly into a culture of "permanent cripples" and "failed seekers", as Thompson puts it, and their reliance on drugs as a means of escape simply accelerated their downfall.
While the book is one of the funniest I've ever read, it's this underlying theme that gives it a somewhat depressing undercurrent. Thompson's non-stop indulgence in mind-altering drugs is a sad case of a man trying to escape from the pain of reality, of the everyday troubles that come with being human, and from the terrifying knowledge that the generation and the counter-culture that he so loved being a part of (and that he once believed to be meaningful) is becoming increasingly irrelevant as the 1960's passes further and further on in the rear-view mirror.
Almost 30 years later, Thompson's book was finally made into a feature film after a seemingly endless time stuck in development hell. The book itself is mostly autobiographical and written by a man who was tripping half the time, so perhaps it's unfair to compare a book like this to a movie adapted from it, but screw it, I'm going to anyway.
Terry Gilliam, the visual genius behind Brazil and Time Bandits, was probably the only director imaginable who could have brought this film to the big screen and made it watchable. Gilliam's own unique visual style, with his staple swirling camera shots and bizarre close-ups, seems perfectly suited to a story that's essentially one long acid trip. The oddball humor that usually accompanies Gilliam's films also fits in right at home here, as the Duke character spends most of the movie moving about in ways that recall Monty Python's Ministry of Silly Walks.
The film follows the novel pretty faithfully, in that it's an episodic tale with something barely resembling a real plot. It essentially follows Duke and Dr. Gonzo from one drug-induced misadventure to the next, terrorizing any hotel and casino personnel who stand in their way. The "story" is really just a means of acting as a segue-way between one bout of depravity and excess to another.Johnny Depp himself is ideal as Thompson, the writer who always seems to be able to make rational observations about the situation that he's in and the trouble he's causing, despite the fact that his mind is bending every step of the way. He has Thompson's look and talk down to perfection, and the ever-present, iconic cigarette holder is a hoot. Benicio Del Toro is sufficiently over-the-top as Thompson's utterly degenerate attorney, about as loathsome a character as could ever be imagined, and you don't have to imagine very hard because he's incredibly based on a real guy.
While the film as a whole is certainly entertaining and funny enough, hardcore fans of Thompson's book probably won't get much out of it, and rightly so. Part of the joy of the book is in Thompson's wacky descriptions of everything that goes on, and in the middle of all of this insanity, he still offers surprisingly profound and tragic insight into the human condition. Much of what makes the book so effective is our ability to experience what the narrator is going through in his prose, to see this bizarre acid world in our mind's eye. This effect is sadly lost in the film.
Indeed, most of the stranger moments in the book are just better left to the imagination, like the scene in a casino where Thompson begins to hallucinate that all of the guests are turning into reptiles. Thompson describes this moment in the book with frantic terror, and it's one of the book's great highlights. In the film, Gilliam gives us slimy, animatronic puppets that render the scene more disturbing than anything else, so the effect is muted.
In all, it's probably true that this is the best that a film adaptation of Fear and Loathing could ever possibly turn out. Gilliam gave this a good shot, and it's a worthwhile viewing for some good laughs and anybody who is a fan of the director's work and not a serious follower of Thompson. The film does, though, have a fervent following, and I fear that the message of Thompson's book, about a culture sunk in a malaise of drug abuse and depravity, is completely lost to fans of the film. I think most fans will probably watch it and think it's about nothing more than two dumb guys getting doped out and destroying hotel rooms for two hours (I know that's what I thought upon first viewing), which is too bad.
I guess my underlying message here is: read the freaking book.
