Rum Diary (2011)

A sweltering bout of sex is interrupted by a vinyl-covering recording of Hitler's greatest speeches; Johnny Depp swigs gulps of 470-proof booze in order to use his mouth as a flamethrower; Psycho-tropic substances used by heroes to shape the world in their own image. After Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, Hunter S. Thompson's other novel "The Rum Diary" has finally been converted into a film.

Journalist Paul Kemp (Johnny Depp) travels to Puerto Rico to write for a local newspaper, The Suan Jan Star. Immersing himself in the islands Rum-soaked lifestyle, he soon becomes obsessed with Chenault (Amber Heard), the fiancee of American entrepreneur Sanderson (Aaron Eckhart), a shady property developer. Sanderson recruits Kemp to write favourable things about his latest scheme, and it's down to Kemp to take the money of the high road.

America's in the doldrums as the 60's dawn. Eisenhower's grasp on the country is dwindling and Richard Nixon's march to power is on the rise. Sensing the switching allegiances back home, Hunter S. Thompson fled America for Puerto Rico to take up the post on El Sportivo magazine, and while there wrote a small manuscript for The Rum Diary. Depp coaxed hunter to publish the book (which is a great read and I thoroughly recommend it), Depp also coaxed Bruce Robinson out of semi-retirement to script and direct this adaptation.

Kemp pops up like a hungover animal, naked down to his boxers in a devastated beachfront hotel room. His clotted eyes are less bloodshot then broken, and it's his first day of work. We've seen Depp do this kind of thing before-he describes stepping into the role of Kemp as, "like playing the same character from Fear and Loathing" Depp is a lot less affected and rattled as Kemp than he was as Raoul Duke, and he operates with such precise control of his craft that the muscles in his face seem as if he's first discovering the most iconic movements we've become accustomed to. His compatriots , the down-at-heel photographer, Sala (Michael Rispoli), and the burn-out basket case and sometimes journalist, Moberg (Giovanni Ribsi), add ballast to Kemp's craft.

Robinson retains the story's formative feel by presenting Puerto Rico as a playground, but more pivotally as a detour. Robinson also proves he can still carry a film. The script is robust, witty and sharp. Choosing to shoot the film in 16mm too gives the interiors a dusky, vintage tone. Plus, he can do physical comedy as well, bringing an absurd yet murderous car-chase to life, all the while conveying the despair and austerity of the times.

Robinson's approach to the film is nothing more then a loving tribute to a dear friend and the demise of the American dream, but it's also a thrilling snapshot of a reporter finding his way.