The great writer Hunter S. Thompson’s substance experimentation no doubt contributed to his dwindling mental health as significantly as it contributed to his literary works. However, Alex Gibney’s documentary prefers to align the Gonzo’s descent into madness with the decline of American values.
The film draws upon the recollections of a handful of America’s most recognisable and influential individuals of the last 40 years. It opens with the September 11 attacks – the event that momentarily rallied the world behind the essence of democracy until, under the 'baffled leadership of George W. Bush" (as Thompson refers to the ex-President’s reign), America became the bad guy. 'Would it be Afghanistan, Pakistan, Iraq?" wonders Thompson. 'From that day, we were always going to start a war with somebody."
Hunter S. Thompson’s radical, revolutionary life and works are covered in Gibney’s film in two ways: with the objective analysis of his contemporaries, and with the subjective awe of fans and friends. Comparison to the great American writer F. Scott Fitzgerald is inevitable – not just because Thompson taught himself structure and prose by typing the text of The Great Gatsby over and over, but also for the insight and commentary that both writers brought to the social mores and injustices of their respective generations.
Gibney has teamed up once again with his Oscar-winning producing partner, Australian Eva Orner (Taxi To The Darkside, 2007), and the pair has also enlisted Vanity Fair editor Graydon Carter as producer. The latter’s influence shows in the number of high-profile on-camera contributors, and the openness of their opinions and memories conveys the overwhelming sense of respect and admiration that is held for the subject matter.
In one memorable scene that followed the publication of Thompson’s landmark political memoir 'Fear And Loathing: On The Campaign Trail '72", Senator George McGovern’s campaign manager Frank Mankiewicz called the book’s observation’s 'the most accurate and least factual account" of the campaign, which drew a big laugh from Thompson and the gathered politicos.
Notables contributors to the film include Jimmy Carter, 1972 presidential nominee McGovern, Gary Hart and Pat Buchanan; publishing industry giants like Rolling Stone’s Jann Wenner, authors Tom Wolfe and Tim Crouse; narration and on-camera readings of Thompson’s works are provided by Johnny Depp. Also appearing are those for whom Hunter S. Thompson was a beloved, if volatile, family member and dear friend – first-wife Sondi Wright, son Juan, second-wife Anita and, most influentially, the artist and collaborator Ralph Steadman.
It would be impossible not to chronicle the life of Thompson without acknowledging the dependency he had on illicit substances to inspire his creativity. The film does not sugar-coat both the profound insight and brutal inner turmoil the drugs had upon the man and his work. The fame he would come to embrace (much to the disappointment of his most ardent followers) would ironically focus far more on his drug intake than his work – naked groupies and drug addicts, eager to experience the out-of-body revelations that Thompson had been so open about, would populate his Colorado ranch as his wife and child tried to lead a normal, quiet life.
What Alex Gibney’s film does provide is a portrait of an artist for whom the freedoms of the late 1960’s and early 1970’s intrinsically fuelled a powerful message from a unique voice; and of an aging man slipping into antiquity just as the ideals of his generation irrevocably dissipate.
