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However, (need I really say this?) "film" is a completely different medium than "literature." The immediacy of images on screen makes them finite, known, comprehensible. Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas is an absolute masterpiece of art design and cinematography. This is not, I repeat, this is not a pretty picture.īut Gilliam's control of the camera, his delight in bringing the bizarre images to life shows through, nonetheless. well, at least from the waist up) soaks in his own filth in the bathtub, the water a putrid brown, pleading with Duke to toss the tape recorder into the water when the song hits its peak. While "White Rabbit" blares from a tinny tape player, Dr. Resembling the ink-splattered canvases of Ralph Steadman, the hotel walls become the target for every imaginable substance that might harden and leave a crusty residue. Never has a room been trashed more horribly than by Duke and Gonzo.
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But the most remarkable work takes place in their hotel room. Gonzo (Benicio Del Toro), as they slouch and crawl through hotel hallways, elevators, casinos, and greasy-spoon diners. Yes, the bats are there, swooping, soaring from the sky: "Holy Jesus! What are these goddamned animals?"įear and Loathing in Las Vegas is an astonishing piece of filmmaking that revels in the perversity of Thompson's spastic genius as it drags us through the hallucinogenic, drug-infused journeys of Raoul Duke (Johnny Depp) and his Samoan lawyer, Dr. Gilliam has even managed to capture the look and feel of Ralph Steadman's distorted ink blots/drawings/paintings/nightmares. The rhythms and timbre of Thompson's prose have been retained, and thanks to Johnny Depp's inspired impersonation of Thompson himself, including Thompson's clipped speech pattern and the rounded movements of his limbs-as Depp crawls sideways across hotel lobbies like a king crab- Fear and Loathing feels as if Thompson himself is never far away (and unless I miss my guess, that was Thompson himself you'll see in a short flashback scene). Filmed in astonishing bursts of color courtesy of the Las Vegas strip-flashing rows of lights, neon signs, circus carnival casinos, clowns, trapeze artists, and not to mention those goddamned, can-you-believe-your-fucking-eyes lizard people in the bar, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas remains as true to Thompson's novel as can ever be imagined. Director Terry Gilliam picks up Thompson's beat, with the help of twisted images, perversely cockeyed camera angles, claustrophobic close-ups, and hotel walls splattered with ketchup, mustard, and who-can-only-guess-what-else. Thompson's gloriously drug-addled and alcohol-sodden masterpiece, an ode to abuse of all sorts. We were somewhere around Barstow on the edge of the desert when the drugs began to take hold." That's how it starts- Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas-Hunter S.