Wednesday, November 9, 2011

Movie Review - 'The Rum Diary'‏

Hunter S. Thompson was famous for consuming copious amounts of drugs and
alcohol while still, somehow, churning out wildly colorful, raging dispatches from
the road. 'The Rum Diary' is based on his only published, heavily autobiographical
novel by the same name, which he wrote as a 22-year-old in the late 1950s and
early 1960s after a stint as a newspaper reporter in San Juan, Puerto Rico, but
was not published until 1998.

It likely never would have seen the light of day if Thompson's friend,
Johnny Depp, hadn't discovered it rummaging through some old boxes of
Hunter's works and notes, in his basement while staying with him 15
years ago, preparing to make 'Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas', into
a movie with the director Terry Gilliam. Hunter himself had forgotten
about the manuscript. Soon after Johnny found the novel, it was finally
published, the year the movie of 'Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas' came
out. Depp has been trying to get it adapted to the screen ever since.
That is why it's Depp's 'The Rum Diary' as much as it is the late
Thompson's.

“These perfect boxes,” Johnny says. “I pulled it out. I was like,
'What is this?' Hunter was like, 'Oh, shit. The Rum Diary. Oh, yeah.'
It was hidden. Hunter didn't know it was there.”

The film, which is dedicated to Thompson, who died in 2005 -- is
essentially a portrait of the Duke as a young journalist. It's an
enhancement and a furthering of the novel, and brings to it the rich
maturity that the voice of the young aspiring writer had not yet
achieved. It is 'The Rum Diary' seen as Hunter might have written
it in his later prime. The stand-in for Thompson, the young
novelist-reporter Paul Kemp, is trying to find his way and his writing
voice . . . It's the birth of Gonzo.

Tiring of the noise and madness of New York and the crushing
conventions of late Eisenhower-era America, Paul Kemp (Johnny Depp
'The Tourist'), criminally exaggerated resume in hand, travels to the
pristine island of Puerto Rico to try his hand as a reporter for
a local newspaper. He lands a job at the San Juan Star, run by
downtrodden editor-in-chief Edward J. Lotterman (the excellent Richard
Jenkins 'Friends With Benefits'), whose at his wit's end running
a failing, diminishing daily.
As he interviews a hung-over Kemp, Lotterman quizzes him on what
kind of drinker he is, to which Kemp deadpans that he's at 'the
upper-end of social'. Kemp is befriended by staff photographer Bob
Sala (Michael Rispoli 'Blue Bloods', in a deservedly big part for
him coming from television), a burly, genial newsman who is nevertheless
not once seen with a camera in hand.
Kemp moves into Sala's dilapidated dump of an apartment, which
he shares with religious and crime reporter Moberg (Giovanni Ribisi
'Memphis Beat'), a horse-voiced, over-drugged oddity who listens to
Hitler broadcasts and sets some kind of record for caustic reporter-editor
relations.
Adopting the rum-soaked life of the island, Paul soon becomes
obsessed with Chenault (Amber Heard 'The Playboy Club'), the wildly
attractive Connecticut-born fiancée of Sanderson (Aaron Eckhart 'Battle
Los Angeles'). Kemp immediately falls for her, 'Oh God, why did she
have to happen?' he mutters after she swims to his paddle boat.
It's no wonder . . . Heard is stunning!

In a scene inside an afterhours club . . . the sound of calypso
playing and Heard intoxicated and in a haze of ecstacy, and dancing
very provocatively ... transported me back in time when I was working
in Puerto Vallarta. One night, out of many, at one of the hotspots that
catered to the well-to-do, tourists and locals, alike . . . . . . Sundance,
was this breathtaking blonde beauty, very similar to Chenault, who
exudes a level of sexuality that was driving even the women crazy with
heat.
Dominique was her name and she hailed from Mexico City, daughter
of the wealthy, light skinned Mexican Ambassador who married a
French-Canadian, he met while stationed in Ottawa. She came to spend
the summer in Puerto Vallarta.
The odour of deliberately enticing scents placed strategically on
heated bodies, the compelling darkness seducing me into pleasure's
secret promise, the sight of her scantily clad dusky jewelled body
dancing and gyrating.
Alone in close proximity, her hungry eyes locked onto my own thirsty
green eyes as she not so discreetly surveyed my tanned taut body that
radiated a manly heat she extracted from me and absorbed into her own,
as the connection was electrifying. I held her gaze and absorbed her
palpable sexiness and desire for me through the haze of our heat for
one another, and her leg lift like photons in love. . . Back to this
century . . .

Sanderson is a smooth manipulator, one of a growing number of American
businessmen who are determined to push through an enormous development
of a nearby, pristine island to convert Puerto Rico into a capitalist
paradise in service of the wealthy . . . that's pushing locals out.
When Kemp catches his attention and is recruited to spin the development
favorably in the Star, the journalist is presented with a choice: to
use his words for the corrupt businessmen's financial benefit, or use
them to take the bastards down.

The picture of American corruption of Puerto Rico is one of the more
compelling aspects of 'The Rum Diary'. A combative atmosphere between
poor locals and rich Americans hangs in the air, as do the Navy bombing
tests on Vieques. Depp is again in the Caribbean among pirates. Sanderson's
slick, wealthy appeal is tempting to Kemp, who isn't finding the
constricting Star to be an especially noble pursuit, either. Combined
with the allure of Sanderson's beautiful fiancée slowly builds for Kemp
into a moral crisis and, finally, an artistic tipping-point.

'I don't know how to write like me,' he says, but by the end of the
film, it's clear that Kemp/Thompson has found his legs. The guiding
principle is a furious distrust of authority (we glimpse him cursing
Nixon), and a key ingredient is hallucinogens (we also get an early
encounter with LSD).

You might expect a tribute such as this to be sycophantic, but director
Bruce Robinson (famous for the brilliant cult film 'Withnail & I') keeps
a realistic tone. Robinson, who also wrote the screenplay adaptation,
has not directed a feature lenght film since 'Jennifer 8' (1992). He
doesn't present the cartoonish Thompson we've come to expect. It's a
refreshing, grounded view of the writer.
Depp, at this point, would seem to not be aging. This more low-key
performance as a Thompson alter-ego feels truer than the manic derangement
of 'Fear and Loathing. . .', Hunter S. Thompson went on to find his voice.

* From Where I Sit!
www.fromwhereisit.co
November 5, 2011

* Johnny Depp - 'The Rum Diary' (2011)

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