The 1970’s was an interesting decade in the world. Gone was the innocence of the 50’s and 60’s and in came the counter-culture movement. What came with it was the free use of drugs and alcohol, a holdover from the 60’s but taken to a higher extreme. Fear and Loathing postulates that the world of the 60’s, like waves in the ocean, reached a peak and came crashing down and that crash was the 1970’s. The free-wheeling 60’s was replaced with the nasty excesses of the 70’s. It is in this backdrop that the events of this film take place. How much of it actually happened? Hunter S. Thompson, author of the autobiographical novel this film is based on, will tell you it all happened. But as he was constantly on heavy drugs during the time he is the ultimate unreliable narrator. The two hours that make up Fear and Loathing are filled with trippy visuals, crazy dialogue, paranoia, and plenty of bodily fluids. It’s visceral and pulls no punches when depicting addiction and the effects of excess.
The story, what little there really is, revolves around Hunter S. Thompson himself (Johnny Depp),under the Alias of Raoul Duke, traveling with his attorney, Dr. Gonzo (Benicio del Toro), to Las Vegas to report on a motorcycle race in the desert. While in Sin City the two drink and do excessive amounts of drugs, trash their hotel rooms and car, and generally make menaces of themselves all along the way. Later, Thompson accepts another assignment to attend and report on a police convention about the drug crisis. As a plot this is threadbare at best. But that’s not a problem, here. This film is not about the plot but about the journey.
Going in cold, the film tells you exactly what to expect from Thompson and Gonzo. It begins with a drive down a lowly empty highway in the desert with Thompson freaking out over a bunch of hallucinations, bats flying around the car attacking him. He pulls over and hands driving duties over to the equally messed up Dr. Gonzo who subsequently picks up a hitchhiker played perfectly by an unrecognizable Tobey Maguire. Their drug fueled ranting and all around craziness terrorizes Tobey and, upon his first opportunity, he jumps out of the car and flees for his life. Thompson knows this is a bad sign and that they are skirting the law, pushing Gonzo to floor it and hope they can get far enough away before the hitchhiker can report them to the law. This will come back much later in the film when Thompson runs into the hitchhiker again by pure happenstance.
The film is a combination of several set-pieces that combine to tell a somewhat compelling narrative. The amazing thing is that, as outlandish and surreal as it gets at times, it is easy to follow. Where it suffers is in the execution of the more crazy moments. Director Terry Gilliam, known for his unique style, uses that to depict the drug fueled mentalities of his two leads in such a way as to allow us into their points of view. This is overplayed at times creating an environment that is cacophonous, borderline headache inducing. There is heavy use of frenetic camera movements, Dutch angles, and special lenses that give this film a unique look but also make it hard to watch without feeling queasy. These techniques lend an overall feeling of unease while also firmly establishing it as a Gilliam film.
This film is not afraid to make you dislike the protagonist. We are not here to root for Thompson in any way. In fact, we look at him as a pathetic individual, worthy of out disdain. Even in his more Nobel moments, such as when Gonzo wishes to die and asks Thompson to electrocute him with a radio in the bathtub at the height of Jefferson Airplne’s White Rabbit, we don’t like him. Thompson agrees to do it, only to run away with the radio rather than toss it in the water, but we don’t get the sense he does this for any reason other than a purely selfish one. Later, when Gonzo has picked up a young girl at the airport, Lucy (Christina Ricci), Thompson goes on and on about using the drugged out young girl as a money machine, selling her body to all the cops at the hotel there for a convention as a means of making a lot of cash. He uses this as a means to get Gonzo to get rid of her instead but the whole conversation is sick and disturbing and, even if Thompson wasn’t seriously considering doing this, it turns us off from him. He is an unredeemable character that we shouldn’t like.
What’s truly amazing about Fear and Loathing is the performances of the two leads. There are definite shades of nuance in both of them. They are both addicts, using the same substances, yet they are nothing alike. Del Toro delivers a purely physical performance as Gonzo. The actor gained several pounds for the role and really delves into the physicality of it. In contrast, Depp’s Thompson is much more cartoonish, prone to long winded rants and wild, manic, actions. This is further emphasized by the extreme closeups and lenses used to morph the actor’s already exaggerated performance. Both acting styles are hyper-realized but are so different that it lends a level of realism that a more generic approach wouldn’t even come close to. This is best seen in a moment towards the end of the film in a diner. An altercation between Gonzo and a waitress comes close to turning violent. The waitress, played expertly by Ellen Barkin, mirrors our own. In the midst of this, Thompson never flinches or turns sympathetic. Instead, he is virtually oblivious to just how messed up things have just got, only backing down briefly by refraining to steal a plate full of food as the two back out of the diner. Barkin sells the scene and echoes what we have all been feeling the entire picture.
Fear and Loathing is an exercise in endurance. It runs too long and ultimately tests our ability to spend so much time with utterly repugnant characters. The only thing that keeps us from throwing up our arms and giving up are the occasional poignant narrative moments that inject a little semblance to the whole ordeal. These are mostly taken word-for-word from the prose of the real Hunter S. Thompson and show a man who, despite all his demons and addictions, could be very introspective at times. These little vignettes add a humanity to an otherwise caricature and show why he was such a revered writer in his time. They’re also among the few bright spots in an otherwise appalling portrayal of a time that, for many of us, is best left in the past.
Release Date: May 22, 1998
Running Time: 118 Minutes
Rated: R
Starring: Johnny Depp, Benicio del Toro
Directed By: Terry Gilliam
Comments
Post a Comment