TABLOID WORLD SERVICE

WEDNESDAY
MAY 27, 1998

TAKE OUR
DAMNED
SURVEY!
Click Here!

Front Page:

JAPAN'S DR.
DEATH WEEPS
FOR MERCY

More News:

LUNATIC
THREATENS
TO KILL
HOWARD
STERN!

FEAR AND
LOATHING
AT THE
MOVIES

GET TABLOID
VIA E-MAIL!
enter your e-mail

Foto:

ALBINO
KOALA
BUDDY!

Bad Planet:

KILLED
BY VIAGRA!

59-YEAR-OLD
MOM HAS
TWINS!

PORN FOR
JESUS!

POLISH
COPS NAB
GHOSTS!

76-YEAR-OLD
MARRIES
TEEN GAL!

DON'T CALL
IT EL NINO!

CHINESE
KIDS ARE
FATSOS!

AMAZON.COM

Bulletin:

LAYNE'S
MISSING
COLUMN

HORNBERGER
AND THE
WORLD
OF RIOTS

Mailbag

E-Mail
Edition

SEARCH!

Yesterday's
Issue

Hornberger

Layne

TABLOID
REPORTS:

War in
Kosovo

Hank the
Dwarf!


Subscribe!

Info

Ad Rates

Send E-mail

Home


1997-98
Tabloid News
Services, Inc.

THE BULLETIN
   
TABLOID SEES THE LAS VEGAS MOVIE

MATT WELCH REVIEWS 'FEAR AND LOATHING IN LAS VEGAS'

DEAR KEN,

WHISKEY AND PEACE SHORE MAKE THINGS BETTER. DOAN WORRY 'BOUT ME NONE.

IF IT CAN BE USED, THEN TAKE ALL LICENSE TO SAY WHAT I WANTED TO SAY, AND LEAVE OUT WHAT I CLEARLY MEANT TO LEAVE OUT. ASK ME SOMETIME ABOUT THE "COBAIN VERSION." I'LL BE UP FINISHING MY GLASS FOR THE NEXT 30 MINUTES, SO TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK ...

When I finally met Hunter S. Thompson, at the age of 18, the first thing I did was inexplicably throw a shoulder into his chest and knock him into the couch near the keg in the editor's office. Five minutes later, in an unrelated matter, I collapsed into an uncontrollable fit of sobbing that lasted more than 90 minutes.

By the time I recovered, Hunter was up in the bell tower, snorting fresh cocaine off the wristwatch of former Time magazine cover-boy and perennial would-be Democratic Party svengali Pat Caddell, who was in town that season laying heavy UC-bankrolled political muscle on an ambitious but obscure state technocrat named Gray Davis. Caddell would spend much of that summer and fall in my chaotic apartment looking for "young pussy" and denying the overwhelming evidence that he was the one who tipped off reporters about his former friend and client Gary Hart's affair with Donna Rice.

But at the time of Thompson's horrible campus "lecture," I had only met Caddell once or twice. So when he called two days later at my girlfriend's apartment, demanding immediate delivery of an IBM Selectric typewriter and an Apple MacWrite disk at 3:30 a.m. so that Hunter could finish an overdue San Francisco Examiner column, I took offense.

"Listen, you swine!" I croaked. "I didn't give you this phone number, I'm not remotely awake, and I am not in charge of 'fixing' this man's deadline problems."

I had spent the previous two hours picking up my best friend's meat & vodka-stained vomit off the bathroom tile with a pair of yellow rubber gloves while my girlfriend glowered and some crazy Mexican played "Angie" on the turntable, screeching "Eye-nit good tah be uhlaheeyaahaaahive!" over and over again. I was in no mood to be leaned on.

"If you need to call me, call me at a decent hour," I said, and hung up the phone, feeling 40 years old.

Four hours later, at 7:30 on a Sunday morning, the phone rang again.

"Hullo, ahhh, this is Dr. Thompson calling for a Mr. Matt Welch. Would this be the gentleman in question?"

I grinned, and realized distractedly that it was the first coherent sentence I'd heard him utter after more than three hours in his presence.

"Yes, we seem to have reaile in an overflowing bathtub of your own feces and vomit fairly qualifies as a "consequence" of eating an LSD-ether cocktail).

The film's fatal flaw in the eyes of its detractors is that, 27 years later, it's the kind of crude flashback we just don't need anymore ...


Click Here For More!  





[Front Page] [World News] [Bad Planet]
[Bad Planet II] [Bulletin] [Hornberger] [Layne]
[Foto] [Mailbag] [Advertise] [TABLOID Info]
[Yesterday's Issue] [Send Mail] [Home] [Search]
 
t is hard to imagine any Fear & Loathing diehard upset about Gilliam's attack, beyond quibbles over his too-predictable method of providing "context" (teevees in the hotel room showing Vietnam or Nixon), and his choice of music (where was "Sympathy for the Devil," or the "ten years too late" "Power to the People"?) Depp is hilariously spot-on with his impersonation, down to the last bow-legged stagger; remarkable considering how short he is.

Gilliam's version is so faithful and artistically realized, in fact, that it forces the movie's many critics to find flaws with what Gilliam had to work with. And find flaws they did -- The Oregonian ran a chart of what eight or so national critics thought of 20 current movies, and "Fear and Loathing" tied with the abominable "Woo" for the booby prize.

The complaint is that the movie has no real plot (it doesn't), the characters don't develop in any non-narcotic way (they don't), and that it fails to show the "consequences" of heavy drug use (though I would argue that attempting suicide while in an overflowing bathtub of your own feces and vomit fairly qualifies as a "consequence" of eating an LSD-ether cocktail).

The film's fatal flaw in the eyes of its detractors is that, 27 years later, it's the kind of crude flashback we just don't need anymore ...


Click Here For More!  





[Front Page] [World News] [Bad Planet]
[Bad Planet II] [Bulletin] [Hornberger] [Layne]
[Foto] [Mailbag] [Advertise] [TABLOID Info]
[Yesterday's Issue] [Send Mail] [Home] [Search]