She Likes to Watch

There’s weird, and then there’s Hunter S. Thompson weird.

Thompson, the godfather of gonzo journalism, left behind a legacy of brilliant, drug-addled literature when he went to that big freakout in the sky a couple years ago.

His essays about American culture and politics are so strange and insightful, so twisted and utterly true that they’re a big challenge to portray on the silver screen.* You’d have to be crazy to even attempt such a feat. In fact, you’d have to be Terry Gilliam.

Perhaps that’s what gave Gilliam — the former Monty Python member behind such quirky gems as “Brazil,” “Time Bandits” and “The Adventures of Baron Munchausen” — the courage to make “Fear and Loathing.”

“Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas” follows Thompson’s alter-ego Raoul Duke (Johnny Depp) and his lawyer/sidekick (Benicio del Toro) as they travel from Los Angeles to Las Vegas hopped up on every drug known to mankind.

Their journey leads them through a bizarre chain of adult playgrounds, as the fearsome duo examines the dark, psychedelic side of the American dream. It’s a journey well worth taking.**

“Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas” plays at 7 and 9:15 p.m. tonight at The Palm Theatre, 817 Palm St. in San Luis Obispo.

Tickets are $7.50.

***

* Many have tried including Martin Scorsese and Oliver Stone. As rumor has it, Jack Nicholson and Marlon Brando once signed on as Raoul Duke and Dr. Gonzo. Dan Aykroyd and John Belushi considered the project at another point.

** Another screen adaptation of Thompson’s work worth seeing is “Where the Buffalo Roam,” starring Bill Murray as the cigarette-smoking, sunglass-sporting journalist.

Check it out and compare his Thompson to Depp’s version.

Photo above courtesy of MovieWeb.

Ten or 15 minutes into “Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End,” I found myself musing, “What the hell has Gore Verbinski been smoking?”
It may have been the sight of our intrepid pirates confronting Chow Yun Fat on the docks of Singapore, as the big, bad warlord calls for “More steam! More steam!”
Or Capt. Jack Sparrow confronting his fractured psyche — so to speak — on his stranded ship.
Or maybe, just maybe, the army of stone crabs towing the tattered Black Pearl across the dunes. That’s right. Crustaceans. That are rocks.
(Not sure how wicked Jack’s watery grave morphed into a salt flat? Me neither.)
It’s difficult to settle into a film when the opening sequence features a small, ragged boy being hanged. Yikes!
And the movie’s machinations nearly put me in a doze.
The plot of the third “Pirates” movie is as tangled as Davy Jones’ tentacles.
Will Turner (Orlando Bloom) wants to save his father from eternity on a ghost ship. Davy Jones (Bill Nighy) wants his heart back. And Capt. Barbossa (Geoffrey Rush) wants to stop the British colonial government from ruining high adventure on the high seas.
Not to mention the sexual tension between Turner, Jack (Johnny Depp) and the always ravishing Elizabeth Swan (Keira Knightley).
There are so many double- and triple-crosses, I wonder whether the actors themselves got confused.
What’s worse, the much-anticipated cameo by Keith Richards consisted of little more than some wise looks and a little noodling on a guitar. Mr. Ed, bless his equine soul, would have put in a more convincing performance.
There are pluses: Fantastic special effects; a great “girl power” message; and a number of very funny sight gags — usually courtesy of the monkey and our wacky band.
Action sequences are longer and gorier than “Dead Man’s Chest.” (Though, thankfully, there’s no 20-minute sword fight in a giant wheel.) And Johnny Depp is, well, wonderful.
As for Gore Verbinski, I’ll have what he’s having.

– Sarah L.