Talk about your bad trips. No, I'm not referring to the hallucinogenic effects suffered by the two drug-addicted protagonists in this cinematic adaption of Hunter S. Thompson's novel, "Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas," although some of them are quite bad. Instead, I'm describing your experience if you set off to the theater to see this film. Featuring one-dimensional characters, essentially no plot, and a mind numbing array of scenes involving drug use that never amount to anything, this is a really bad film.
All of which is quite surprising considering that accomplished director and cinematic visionary, Terry Gilliam is at the helm. The former Monty Python member, who has directed some of the more fascinating films of the past two decades ("Brazil," "The Fisher King," "12 Monkeys), seems a perfect match for Thompson's material -- at least in theory.
Gilliam's films certainly have never fallen into the mainstream, and his subject matter often concerns distraught or deranged characters living in a nightmarish, surreal world. Thompson's seminal novel, first published in the early 1970's, features such characters living in exactly that type of world. Unfortunately, Gilliam didn't heed the advice and belief of so many before him that this story was "unfilmable." While that's something of a misnomer since he did get it on celluloid, the point was that it wouldn't make for a very good film. Guess what? Those doubters were exactly right.
While I'll admit that I've never read the novel, it certainly seems more suited for one's own imagination instead of the cinematic treatment. Since so much takes place inside the main character's head (thoughts, fears, and, of course, hallucinations), representing that on screen would appear to be a formidable, if not impossible challenge.
Although Gilliam imaginatively presents the hallucinations, they ultimately never amount to anything. While TV's "Seinfeld" could get away with doing a show about "nothing," the fact that nothing happens here severely derails the film. Other than the guys doing drugs, hallucinating, and trashing their hotel rooms, nothing else happens and that makes for one long, boring experience in a darkened theater.
At first, though, it seems as if the film might be somewhat fun, in an offbeat, odd type of way. Utilizing weird camera angles, sped up film, and some wild visual effects, Gilliam does a decent job displaying what these drugged up guys are experiencing. With a carpet pattern flowing up a man's legs and an adjacent wall, lounge lizards truly being just that (in this case, small dinosaurs that look like they came from the defunct TV show, ''Dinosaurs"), and Katherine Helmond's (TV's "Who's the Boss?") face getting the morphing treatment (an odd homage to the skin on her face being stretched in "Brazil"), the effects are quite startling. Yet one quickly realizes that they're never going to amount to anything and soon they're too obvious as standalone visual elements, and not as something helping to move the story forward.
The biggest problem is simply that there is no story. After the first hallucinatory moments you expect the plot to progress from there, but instead we simply get more of the same. The only change that occurs is that the two protagonists alternate between being the one with the steady hallucinations and the other suffering from those more associated with paranoia and delusion. A little of that goes a long way, but unfortunately, that's all this film has to offer.
Coupled with that is the equally deadly cinematic sin that the main characters are nothing more than one-dimensional drug addicts (compared to say, "Trainspotting" where at least the players were interesting). Since they're featured more like cartoon characters than real human beings, the audience has nearly no other reaction to them other than boredom or removed disgust.
We never feel sorry for Duke and Gonzo, or join in their revelry and rebellion (they may fear and hate what has become of society during the Nixon years, but we only get that from Gilliam's use of visuals or voice over narration, and not from the characters themselves). Unlike that other -- but much better -- film set on the strip featuring addicts of another kind, "Leaving Las Vegas," we could care less what happens to these guys and thus any audience involvement in the film is a completely moot point.
As the main character, Johnny Depp, who's been so good in his other films such as "Donnie Brasco" and "Ed Wood," falls flat here. Although he's been given the necessary props (a near permanent in the mouth cigarette holder and yellow tinted aviator glasses), is dressed like a perpetual tourist, and has a partially shaved head (all of which makes him look a bit like Elton John from the 70's -- without the flamboyant costumes), Depp can't do much with his character. Limited to physical ticks such as raising his eyebrows and muttering guttural "Hmm's" and "Huh's" and other such sounds when not reacting to the nonstop infusion of drugs, his character amounts to nothing more than a cartoon-like caricature.
Benicio Del Toro ("The Usual Suspects," "Basquiat") also looks the part -- reportedly gaining a great deal of weight for the role and growing his hair out into a tangled mess -- but his character is even less developed than Depp's. When not manically deranged from his steady use of drugs, all he gets to do is tell his friend, "As your attorney I advise you to..." in a repeated bit that's assumedly supposed to be funny, but is anything but.
Beyond those two, there's a plethora of cameo appearances by noted actors and musicians -- as if this were THE project to work on -- but most are so brief and likewise one-dimensional that they never add up to anything. Among those who momentarily make their way before the camera are Mark Harmon, Gary Busey, Cameron Diaz, Michael Jeter and Lyle Lovett. Slightly longer parts go to Ellen Barkin as a cafe waitress and Christina Ricci as a young religious girl, but like everything else in the film, they don't amount to much.
Featuring an excessive amount of voice over narration (the only desperate hope of telling the story), and many bits that are assumedly supposed to be funny, but don't even come close (the guys stumbling across the Vegas strip after losing control of most of their motor functions, Gonzo being afraid to step off a slow moving merry-go-round type restaurant, etc...), this is a disaster of a movie.
Overall, it's also a major disappointment for director Terry Gilliam. Having helmed some of the more imaginatively staged products of recent, many of which garnered multiple Oscar nominations, this feature is shockingly and quite surprisingly awful. Although occasionally featuring interesting visuals, they alone can't make a movie, and the lack of anything resembling a story or interesting characters hammers the final nails in this film's coffin.
If you groove on watching hallucinating drug addicts consuming a wide array of drugs, trashing rooms, and generally making fools of themselves, then you should head off right now to your local multiplex. You should be on the lookout, however, for this film will probably be passing you on its own quick trip to the video store where it might gain a small, cult following, but otherwise will vanish in a haze of obscurity. We give "Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas" a marginal 1 out of 10.
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