See Hunter S Thompson? That’s your dad, that is. On drugs. In a pool of his
own vomit. Fat, bald and talking funny are not the most attractive
attributes in a man, and even Johnny Depp can’t wear them well in this
surprisingly awful adaptation of Thompson’s 'classic' (road) trip
account. Perhaps it’s dated badly, or perhaps Gilliam can’t handle
being tied to a text, even one this freewheeling. It works on, like, an
experiential level, dude... you’ll leave feeling disoriented after
this bad trip. But not amused. I guess you had to be there.
