Before I tell you about Johnny Depp and Bruce Robinson’s adaptation of Hunter S. Thompson’s “The Rum Diary,” allow me to preface it with this: the film is a furthering, rather than a faithful transcription, of the author’s work. It keeps the novel’s spirit of “down-and-out good against respectable evil,” as Nick Tosches put it, and maintains the story of an author and journalist who struggles to discover the truth about himself--his quest to “smell ink,” so to speak. In the film, Kemp admits that he can write, but he cannot write in his own voice.

The story opens in San Juan, Puerto Rico in 1960, and the film’s three troublemakers, Paul Kemp (a loose reflection of Thompson portrayed by Johnny Depp), Sala (Michael Rispoli), and Moberg (the always-endearing Giovanni Ribisi) are all employees of the “Star,” the local rag newspaper.  It is not a particularly ambitious or open enterprise, and its editor (Lotterman, played by Richard Jenkins) wants to keep it that way. He has no tolerance for the drunks who he claims have ruined his paper, and he eyes Kemp as trouble. He asks him how much he drinks, to which Kemp replies, “The high end of social”—a bit of a downplay. 

Kemp encounters Sanderson (Aaron Eckhart), a wealthy and corrupt property developer, early on. Sanderson realizes Kemp’s status as a journalist would be of great use to him because of the free, seemingly factual, press that comes with his articles. Sanderson hopes to bribe him into writing favorably of a new development plan, and dangles shiny cars and beautiful sights in front of his eyes. 

Among those beauties is Sanderson’s girlfriend, Chenault (Amber Heard), a 1960s  blonde-haired, blue-eyed dream. Kemp is instantly attracted to her and wants what he isn’t supposed to have.  Chenault hints throughout the film, however, that she’s his for the taking. 

Chenault’s character development is among the film’s weak spots.  She comes off as nothing more than a lovely sight and a party girl, though the film suggests that she was supposed to be something more. She never finds a place in the film, and is gone almost as quickly as she arrives. 

The film is incredibly well acted and illustrates Depp’s ability to shine when he is given a real, deep character to build on. Eckhart delivers a noteworthy performance as well, demonstrating once again that he can go from nice guy to complete jerk in 60 seconds (just like he did as Harvey Dent). “The Rum Diary” also uses fresh faces and low-key actors to its benefit. 

The movie is both visually appealing and well shot, with great uses of framing and smart editing. 

If any complaint could be made about the film, it would be that it has no clear, linear plot.  But “The Rum Diary” does have a point—the movie is for those who want to think, who have a bit of a twisted sense of humor, and who appreciate a tale of self-discovery. In spirit, the story is a portrait of the author as a young man. 

While old-fashioned in its setting, the film communicates as timeless, for the issues it grapples with are not unique to a particular era. A struggling journalist debating between money and morals, a man coming to terms with himself or his place in life, and the idea of the public versus the establishment are notions that withstand the test of time. 

The essential line of the film is captured during a drug scene in a LSD sequence. While under the influence, Kemp approaches a lobster who tells him, “Human beings are the only creatures on earth that claim a god and the only living thing that behaves like it hasn’t got one.”  At that moment, he realizes the connection between children struggling to find food to eat and corporate tycoons who own five boats and a garage full of sports cars—another one of the film’s timeless messages.

The heart of the story is illustrated in a formalistic manner. Toward the end of the movie, in one of the many cockfighting scenes, the two animals are lowered into the fighting circle in cages—one red, one blue. Earlier in the movie, one of the property developers tells Kemp that the hotel they want to build is separated into two colors—red and blue—to distinguish between corporate investors and public tourists. The two chickens fight in the ring, red against blue, corporate against public. The "blue" chicken, El Monstro, is the victor, which suggests something of the indomitable spirit of the people once provoked. 

In the end, like the victorious El Monstro, Kemp smells ink—ink and the “bastards” of the establishment. He finds his voice and discovers the truth. But if there is anything wrong with the story, it is that it’s left wrapped up too neatly for such a messy, inebriated narrative.  It leaves one wondering: how did the novel end?

Regardless, “The Rum Diary” is a great picture in a sea of films filled with shallow gimmicks. 

 

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