Beyond Fear and Loathing

new_york_times:http://movies.nytimes.com/2008/07/04/movies/04gonz.html

By A. O. SCOTT
Published: July 4, 2008
Even if Alex Gibney’s new documentary, “Gonzo,” were not subtitled “The Life and Work of Dr. Hunter S. Thompson,” there would be little doubt about its subject. Thompson, who committed suicide in 2005, survives to some degree in the popular imagination because of his self-burnished reputation for wild excess. Embodied on the screen by Bill Murray (in Art Linson ‘s underrated “Where the Buffalo Roam” from 1980) and Johnny Depp (in Terry Gilliam’s overblown “Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas” from 1998) and travestied as the conspiratorial Uncle Duke in Garry Trudeau’s “Doonesbury” comic strip, Thompson remains a durable icon of countercultural bad craziness.
More About This Movie

Film: Fear and Loathing on a Documentary Screen (June 29, 2008) Times Topics: Hunter S. Thompson
Gonzo, Thompson’s symbol for which was a two-thumbed fist clutching a peyote button, denotes a drug-fueled, madcap libertarianism, a pursuit of freedom to the very edge of good sense and beyond. But as Thompson first used the word, gonzo was an aurally suggestive, semantically vague adjective, and the noun it modified was, above all, journalist. And it is to Mr. Gibney’s great credit that while he pays due attention to the outsize, cartoonish celebrity persona Thompson fell back on when his literary powers began to wane, this film concentrates on the bold, innovative journalism that secured Thompson’s reputation and assures his immortality.
A gangly, diffident Kentuckian with good manners and a mail-order divinity degree (hence the mock-honorific “Doctor”), Thompson had the good fortune to be around during a heroic and lawless age of American magazine writing, when visionary editors were willing to publish (and cover expenses for) all kinds of adventures and experiments. It was Carey McWilliams of The Nation who first printed Thompson’s chronicle of riding with the Hells Angels motorcycle gang, an article — and, in 1966, a book — that sketched out part of the emerging mythology of the ’60s, and also foreshadowed some of the era’s dissonances and contradictions.
“Hell’s Angels” made Thompson something of a media star — Mr. Gibney includes clips from one of the first of what would be many appearances as a television talk-show guest — and introduced readers to the basic elements of his style and method. Those found fertile soil in the pages of Rolling Stone, whose founder and publisher, Jann Wenner, is among the witnesses gathered by Mr. Gibney to dish, critique and pay tribute.
Others include Thompson’s two wives, Sandy and Anita; his son, Juan; and Ralph Steadman, the British artist whose drawings are nearly as integral to the Thompson oeuvre as the author’s own jazzy, swaybacked prose. The peanut gallery is filled out by some surprisingly establishmentarian figures, including Patrick J. Buchanan and George McGovern, who served the master of gonzo as sources and subjects when he turned his attention to politics.
As it was for many others, the 1968 Democratic convention in Chicago was a watershed for Thompson, who was appalled by the ferocity of Mayor Richard J. Daley’s police force. Thompson’s temperamental suspicion of authority took on a political dimension, which expressed itself through a characteristic mixture of earnestness and clowning. As a candidate for sheriff of Pitkin County, Colo., in 1970, he raised the banner of “freak power” and also raised serious issues about land use and law enforcement. And his reporting on the 1972 presidential election — published in “Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail,” his masterpiece — was a brazen mixture of passionate partisanship, scabrous insight and pure invention.
It was “the least factual, most accurate account” of the election, according to Frank Mankiewicz, Mr. McGovern’s campaign manager. Making no pretense of neutrality, Thompson broadcast his admiration for Mr. McGovern and his contempt for Mr. McGovern’s Democratic rivals. He also expressed one of the great, sustaining passions of his writing life, namely his unquenchable hatred for Richard M. Nixon.
Mr. Gibney, whose other films include “Enron: The Smartest Guys in the Room” and the Oscar-winning “Taxi to the Dark Side,” assembles a lively collage of interviews and found materials. Mr. Depp reads choice excerpts from Thompson’s work, and the writer in his prime is glimpsed in scenes from earlier documentaries. “Gonzo” is a fascinating history lesson and a bit of a cautionary tale — about the corrosive effects of rampant drug use, yes, but more about how fame can turn into the scourge of talent.
Thompson’s creatively fallow years outnumbered his fertile ones, which can leave you feeling a bit deflated after two hours. But at his best he was braver, funnier and more ruthlessly honest than just about any other magazine writer, and “Gonzo” confirms his place in the great American parade of cranks, renegades and sages — that is, in the best, most disreputable corner of our literary pantheon.
“Gonzo” is rated R (Under 17 requires accompanying parent or adult guardian) for drug and sexual content, language and some nudity. .
GONZO
The Life and Work of Dr. Hunter S. Thompson
Opens on Friday nationwide.
Written and directed by Alex Gibney; narrated by Johnny Depp; director of photography, Maryse Alberti; edited by Alison Ellwood; music by David Schwartz; produced by Mr. Gibney, Graydon Carter, Jason Kliot, Joana Vicente, Ms. Ellwood and Eva Orner; released by Magnolia Pictures. Running time: 1 hour 58 minutes.