The Rum Diary

Johnny Depp cashes in every time he stars in one of the endless parade of Pirates of the Caribbean sequels. For the record, that’s now four feature-length movies derived from a theme-park ride that lasts less than 15 minutes.

Anyway, you get the feeling the offbeat actor uses some of that wealth to facilitate independent projects such as The Rum Diary, which marks the second time Depp has starred in a big-screen adaptation of a semi-autobiographical novel by the eccentric journalist Hunter S. Thompson (Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas).

Depp stars as Paul Kemp, a cynical chain-smoking New York journalist who in 1960 joins the staff at a fledgling newspaper in San Juan, Puerto Rico, that caters primarily to American tourists. He gains a newsroom ally in photographer Bob Salas (Michael Rispoli) who helps smooth some of the friction with his tyrannical editor (Richard Jenkins).

Out of personal and professional frustration, Kemp develops an obsession with rum and his behavior becomes erratic. He also becomes entangled in a corrupt development deal with a financier (Aaron Eckhart) that allows him to see more of the developer’s flirtatious fiancée (Amber Heard) even if it compromises his integrity.

Depp obviously has an affinity for Thompson’s work, and it comes across in his performance. His character’s sense of mischief and curiosity, however, is more appealing than his idealistic determination in the final act.

Director Bruce Robinson (Withnail and I), who also adapted the screenplay, makes good use of the tropical locations as well as some of Thompson’s piercing dialogue. Yet the film rambles at times and goes on too long.

This film should have more mainstream appeal than Fear and Loathing (because it doesn’t require inebriation or drug-induced stupor to be enjoyed), even if it’s more of a collection of amusing vignettes than a traditional narrative. One highlight is a sequence in which Kemp and Salas must improvise to drive a car in which the front seat has been removed.

The long-delayed film, combined with its source material, probably has a more intriguing back story than the meandering comedy itself, which provides its share of modest laughs and is more noteworthy for its substances than its substance.

Rated R, 120 minutes.