Alex Hiatt
Staff Writer
I have never read any Hunter S. Thompson, which makes my thoughts on the adaptation of his second novel little use to any fans. Of course I have seen “Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas,” but I am inclined to think that film is more a peek inside Terry Gilliam’s mind than into Thompson’s. I can’t say I get his enormous cult status, nor what it means for journalism to be “gonzo.” And, unfortunately, despite its apparent faithfulness, I do not think “The Rum Diary” offered any insight into the inner workings of Thompson like I was hoping it might.
Based on Thompson’s second novel, “The Rum Diary” was inspired by his time working for a dingy paper in San Juan. It revolves around Paul Kemp, a lustful alcoholic journalist, played by a refreshingly low-key Johnny Depp, as he stumbles through life while trying to find his voice as a writer.
He’s a self-righteous liberal, but nobody seems interested in his social conscience. After submitting his first real story, a substantive exposé of environmental and social injustice, he gets a cynical lesson in the political economy of mass media from the editor-in-chief: advertisers run the show, and the last thing a shrinking readership comprised of fat American tourists wants to read about is poor locals being screwed by a chemical corporation. Then he gets wind of a major corrupt development project in the works.
Up to this point, I was completely on board. The supporting cast is good fun, particularly the mangy, inexplicable Moburg, played by a surprisingly dedicated Giovanni Ribisi. The locales are ever-changing and prevent the atmosphere from staling. Kemp makes for an interesting-enough protagonist, contradictory and flawed in all the ways we might expect a person in his shoes to be, though he seems to lack motivation for any of the decisions he makes.
But before long, the plot loses focus and begins sauntering apathetically from one arbitrary situation to another, none of which is entertaining enough on its own to prevent a bit of boredom from creeping in. The movie gains its footing again once Kemp finds the resolve to stick it to the man, consequences be damned. Then, without warning, it just ends, never climaxing or resolving. Or maybe it put me in such a lull that I didn’t notice it was drawing to a close.
“The Rum Diary” sort of works as a journalistic bildungsroman, perhaps as Thompson intended with the novel, but ultimately it fails to really satisfy on any level. The screenplay has its moments, but overall lacks both fire and a consistent sense of fun, never hitting a groove and never paying off dramatically. The film is commendable enough as a tribute from Depp, who was a longtime friend of Thompson before he died, but not really worth recommending otherwise.