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Johnny Depp enters the weird world of Hunter S. Thompson in ‘The Rum Diary’

Hunter S. Thompson’s writings are an acquired taste. His deliriously clever tales of gallivanting around the world, enjoying drugs here and finding corruption there, play like a poor man’s Ernest Hemingway. He’s weird and raw, and that makes him strange and oft-putting, at least for some.

For my tastes, he’s infectiously entertaining and intermittently poignant.

Although the writer left this world a few years ago (after taking his own life), his work lives on both in the written form and increasingly on the silver screen. His former friend and diehard interpreter is Johnny Deep; so, it makes sense that the uber-famous Pirate of the Caribbean would play Paul Kemp, a stand-in for Thompson himself, in the cinematic adaptation of The Rum Diary.

Kemp is a journalist of the old breed. He has a notebook in his pocket, a miniature bottle of liquor at the ready and thoughts of rescuing the world in his head. He travels down to San Juan, Puerto Rico to work at an English-language newspaper on the verge of collapse. He lies on his resume, but is able to convince the editor in chief (Richard Jenkins) that he’s got the goods to report on the tourist and cruise-boat industry.

He immediately befriends the staff photographer, Sala (Michael Rispoli), and takes a liking to a blonde bombshell he spots skinny dipping in the ocean (the unbelievably beautiful Amber Heard). Aaron Eckhart shows up as the blonde’s beau and a slick developer of prized real estate off the coast of Puerto Rico. Giovanni Ribisi is virtually unrecognizable as a reclusive reporter with Nazi sympathies.

In other words, it’s just another Hunter S. Thompson universe. He built a career out of castigated oddballs on the fringes of society. They all exude cool; they all double-cross one another; they all drink a little too much.

The movie, adapted and directed by Bruce Robinson, is actually quite conventional, considering the source material. This is not like Terry Gilliam’s transcendent interpretation of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, another Thompson tale. Except for one CGI tongue that slithers a few feet out of Sala’s mouth, the fantasy is kept on the back burner.

Instead, Robinson grounds his narrative in exploring Kemp’s almost cartoonish experiences around the island. From drinking too heavily in his hotel room to ending up in jail for burning a guy’s face, the antics are always enjoyable to watch.

However, the enjoyment doesn’t say much about the world Kemp lives in. Thompson didn’t simply report on the oddities of society. He had a purpose and a mission. Sure, there are scenes where Kemp is uncovering some unsavory details of colonialist development deals. Sure, he’s fed up with reporting on cruisers at the local bowling alley. But much of the political side of Thompson’s writing is missing. Instead, The Rum Diary feels like a memoir, a good memoir, but one devoid of resonance.

The acting is mostly top-notch, although I’m not sure Depp was the perfect choice for Kemp. He doesn’t have enough fun in the role. It’s a warm climate; revolution is in the air; good-looking ladies are taking an interest. Why doesn’t he walk around with some ownership of the island?

Rispoli’s performance, on the other hand, is the highlight of the film. He is a sweaty, bearded man of the streets with the inside story on all that goes down in San Juan. He feels like a character stuck in the middle of a false paradise.

Ribisi is also excellent as the strange Moburg; Jenkins is his usual skilled self as Lotterman, the editor. Eckhart is serviceable, although it doesn’t seem like much of a stretch compared to his former roles. Heard is lovely, through and through.

The cinematography of the film is inspired. Puerto Rico has never looked better or worse. Crumbling office buildings melt into the dipping sun of a distant horizon. Little tucked-away restaurants emerge on dirt roads; men squeezing dollar bills crowd around cock-fighting rings; 1950s nostalgia drips from every edifice.

The Rum Diary is a very good film that pulls a few punches and thus evades greatness. Still, for Thompson enthusiasts and newbies, the feature offers at least an open window into the mind of an American original.

By John Soltes / Publisher / John@HollywoodSoapbox.com
  • The Rum Diary

  • 2011

  • Directed by Bruce Robinson

  • Written by Robinson; based on the book by Hunter S. Thompson

  • Starring Johnny Depp, Richard Jenkins, Aaron Eckhart, Michael Rispoli, Giovanni Ribisi and Amber Heard

  • Running time: 120 minutes

  • Rated R for language, brief drug use and sexuality

  • Rating: ★★★½

John Soltes

John Soltes is an award-winning journalist. His writing has appeared in The New York Times, Earth Island Journal, The Hollywood Reporter, New Jersey Monthly and at Time.com, among other publications. E-mail him at john@hollywoodsoapbox.com

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