The Rum Diary

The Rum Diary is sporadically amusing, but it never really captures the debauched, acerbic spirit of Hunter S. Thompson's writing. Johnny Depp was partly responsible for the long-delayed publication of Thompson's first novel, and helped convince Bruce Robinson (Withnail and I) to come out of directing retirement to make the movie. Depp has a knack for underplaying a punch line that serves this sometimes excessively wacky film well. He plays Paul (Thompson's semi-autobiographical stand-in), an alcoholic journalist who flies to Puerto Rico in 1960 to work for the failing San Juan Star. Michael Rispoli offers excellent support as Paul's cynical, beaten-down photographer. Scenes of these two in casual conversation are far more entertaining than the more absurd hijinks that the movie puts them through. Paul is lured into the island's high life by Sanderson (Aaron Eckhart), a crooked real-estate developer, and falls for his pretty, flirty girlfriend, Chenault (Amber Heard), but he reaches a moral crisis when he realizes the impact of the businessman's work on the locals and the island's natural beauty. Without Thompson's narration, Paul comes off as too passive, and the film is episodic in the extreme, building in fits and starts to an afterword about Thompson's subsequent writing career, instead of a climax. It's a labor of love, sure, but it fails to capture the object of its affection.