Thursday, 1 September 2011

Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas

If I hadn’t read the book, I think I would have enjoyed Gilliam’s film rather more. It’s well-made indeed: hallucinogenic sequences are perfectly balanced, and no-one blurs the lines between reality and fantasy as well as Gilliam. The soundtrack is great, the different styles in the cinematography work well, and Gilliam directs his actors to be over-the-top and cartoonish, which makes for a very funny show. But at the same time, it means the adaptation loses a great deal of the book’s impact.

Johnny Depp’s performance is just too much. I’ve never seen ‘Where the Buffalo Roam’, but from clips, I think I prefer Bill Murray’s version of Thompson, as quirky, sharp-witted and acerbic. Where in the book, Duke and Gonzo are cunning jesters, Gilliam makes them circus clowns. Almost all the scenes of quick thinking, where the twosome run verbal rings around some hapless victim with their exaggerated, improvised stories, are cut, and where they stay, they seem more desperate, more happy accident than controlled manipulation. Depp’s Thompson, despite their being personally acquainted, comes across like his Jack Sparrow, shaven-headed, doing an impression of a camp velociraptor. In losing the intelligence, the sharp wit, and the ability to survive in the real world despite a head full of acid, despite the craziness the drugs plunge them into, the film loses Thompson’s authority and charm.

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