Drugs, loss, despair, and loneliness are always themes that you will never tire of, and such themes are always more exciting than ever. The stories of Fafu lawyers and gangster reporters in Las Vegas, accompanied by a little bit of drugs invading the body, are climaxes one after another. I can't help thinking, is it a long and short orgasm that is cool, or a short and many orgasms that are enjoyable? The behavior of two people in Vegas is absurd, absurd, mentally retarded, crazy, thorough, non-mainstream, even non-human, irrational, only boundless despair and fear. I can't help thinking, if we also experienced the legendary drug explosion in the 1960s, if I met one of them, would I become the other one? If I were the wretched Spider-Man who intercepted the ride-hailing halfway, would I join their League of Demons without hesitation? Seeing bats, bombers, monsters, burning taverns on the roadside, harassing tourists, breaking every rule in Las Vegas, listing all kinds of drugs, just like the explanation of human organs in the physiological hygiene class detailed? Fat lawyers and doctors of journalism, what they have done, are they mourning the passing era in their own way, or are they using their tireless efforts to regain the enthusiasm of the whole people? The reporter looked through the hotel window and recalled the golden age. He was sober. Even if he took the medicine, everything that was once glorious, like his youth hormone, is gone forever.
Mint 400 rally, mud beer mugs, two chaotic hotel rooms, circus casino, poisoned orangutans, police anti-drug speech, Debbie’s concert, North Las Vegas roadside Broken restaurant. . . Every scene, every detail, every sentence, every action is an impact and suggestion from the soul, as if there is a possibility, a desperate assumption, that is the essence of the ancient and mysterious drug culture: a certain person, At least some kind of power is watching the lights at the end of the tunnel.
Too weird to live, too rare to die. This is the epitaph they wrote to themselves.
If I were to rate this movie, I would rate 99. If I had to give 99 a reason, I would like to make another film. This is the best Johnny Depp, and the best Benicio del Toro in my eyes, because in this film, it can be clearly felt that they have not yet been received by the public. Appreciation and worship by rape.
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Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas reviews
