In 1978, HolÂlyÂwood was lookÂing to make a film about Hunter S. ThompÂson. No, it was not an adapÂtaÂtion of Fear & Loathing in Las Vegas–that would come latÂer. Instead, this was the now-almost-forÂgotÂten Bill MurÂray vehiÂcle Where the BufÂfaÂlo Roam, which was based on Thompson’s obitÂuÂary for his friend and “attorÂney” from Fear & Loathing, Oscar “Zeta” AcosÂta.
KnowÂing that both ThompÂson and illusÂtraÂtor Ralph SteadÂman would be involved and reunitÂing and driÂving from Aspen, through Las Vegas, and into HolÂlyÂwood, the BBC disÂpatched a film crew for the arts proÂgram Omnibus. DirecÂtor Nigel Finch returned with a ramÂshackle road trip of a film, one that always seems in danÂger of falling apart due to Thompson’s paraÂnoid and antagÂoÂnisÂtic state.
For a lot of British viewÂers, this would have been their primer on the AmerÂiÂcan writer, and quickÂly brings them up to date on Thompson’s rise to infamy, the creÂation of Gonzo jourÂnalÂism, and his alter-ego Raoul Duke.
PerÂhaps Finch thought that getÂting ThompÂson and SteadÂman togethÂer in a car would conÂjure up the Fear & Loathing vibe on screen, but the two make an awkÂward couÂple. At one point the reserved SteadÂman comÂpares himÂself to Thompson’s pet bird Edward. ThompÂson antagÂoÂnizes this bird into some sort of trauÂma, then holds it close and talks to it. “I feel absoluteÂly takÂen apart,” being friends with the writer, SteadÂman says. “…he’s holdÂing me like that bird and I’m tryÂing to bite my way out.”
In Vegas, the crew and SteadÂman try to rouse ThompÂson, then find him, conÂfused, and with his face covÂered in white make-up. In HolÂlyÂwood, ThompÂson hates the attenÂtion from the camÂera crew so much–not to menÂtion the tourists who assume he is a celebriÂty of some kind–that they find him hidÂing behind a parked car.
This era was indeed the end of that phase of Thompson’s career. At one point he asks Finch if he’s there to film ThompÂson or to film Raoul Duke. Finch doesn’t know. ThompÂson doesn’t know either, but he does realÂize that “The myth has takÂen over…I feel like an appendage.” He can no longer covÂer events like he did with the Hell’s Angels, or the KenÂtucky DerÂby, because of his fame. He can’t covÂer the stoÂry, because he’s become part of the stoÂry, and to a real jourÂnalÂist that’s death.
So perÂhaps that’s the appeal of HolÂlyÂwood? We see ThompÂson and SteadÂman meet with a screenÂwriter (probÂaÂbly John Kaye, who wrote Where the BufÂfaÂlo Roam) to disÂcuss the script.
ThompÂson had agreed to option the script because, like Fear & Loathing in Las Vegas, he nevÂer believed it would get made. So when it went into proÂducÂtion he had pretÂty much givÂen away creÂative conÂtrol. The script, he said, “It sucks – a bad, dumb, low-levÂel, low-rent script.”
HowÂevÂer, Bill MurÂray and ThompÂson hung out in Aspen togethÂer durÂing the shoot and engaged in a sort of mind-meld, MurÂray becomÂing a verÂsion of Duke. When MurÂray returned to SatÂurÂday Night Live that seaÂson, he came back as a cigÂaÂrette-holdÂer-smokÂing faux-ThompÂson. Years latÂer, JohnÂny Depp would also find himÂself being transÂformed durÂing Fear & Loathing in Las Vegas. (I noticed right after watchÂing this Omnibus speÂcial that I answered my phone in a sort of ThompÂson drawl until my friend called me out. The powÂer of the Gonzo is such.)
But the man who had an equal powÂer over ThompÂson was Richard Nixon. Since seeÂing the wily politiÂcian reapÂpear on the nationÂal stage durÂing the BarÂry GoldÂwaÂter camÂpaign in 1964, ThompÂson corÂrectÂly recÂogÂnized an eneÂmy of everyÂthing he held dear, a dark side of AmerÂiÂca risÂing from the corpse of John F. Kennedy. And Nixon caused the fear and the loathing in AmerÂiÂca to bear fruit. As ThompÂson says in the docÂuÂmenÂtary:
Richard Nixon for me stands for everyÂthing that I would not want to have hapÂpen to myself, or be, or be around. He is everyÂthing that I have conÂtempt for and disÂlike and I think should be stomped out: Greed, treachÂery, stuÂpidÂiÂty, cupidÂiÂty, posÂiÂtive powÂer of lying, total conÂtempt for any sort of human, conÂstrucÂtive, politÂiÂcal instinct. EveryÂthing that’s wrong with AmerÂiÂca, everyÂthing that this counÂtry has demonÂstratÂed as a nationÂal trait, that the world finds repugÂnant: the bulÂly instinct, the powÂer grab, the dumbÂness, the insenÂsiÂtivÂiÂty. Nixon repÂreÂsents everyÂthing that’s wrong with this counÂtry, down the line.
Maybe the quesÂtion is not, what would ThompÂson think of Trump, who doesn’t even feign Nixon’s humÂble rouÂtine. The quesÂtion is, where is our Hunter S. ThompÂson?
RelatÂed conÂtent:
Ted Mills is a freeÂlance writer on the arts who curÂrentÂly hosts the artist interÂview-based FunkZone PodÂcast and is the proÂducÂer of KCRÂW’s CuriÂous Coast. You can also folÂlow him on TwitÂter at @tedmills, read his othÂer arts writÂing at tedmills.com and/or watch his films here.
Wow! What a man he was to scare a litÂtle bird like that. He realÂly was a disÂgustÂing human being. There are still plenÂty that would lick his butÂtÂhole.
Where’s today’s ThompÂson? Too busy tryÂing to be celebriÂties, makÂing themÂselves part of the stoÂry is the goal not an uninÂtendÂed conÂseÂquence. The integriÂty of modÂern jourÂnalÂism does not exist. But, then again, havÂing read sevÂerÂal of his drug adled tomes, do we realÂly want anothÂer ThompÂson?
They were probÂaÂbly abortÂed
Dear OP, why don’t you do it? I’m not articÂuÂlate enough but you seem to be.
Great litÂtle minidoc. Hunter’s not for all tastes but his best lines are bruÂtal. I’m surÂprised that his actuÂal funerÂal went ahead as planned here in ’78.