KingAwesome
Joined Feb 2005
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Reviews4
KingAwesome's rating
As a massive fan of Hunter S. Thompson (I don't exaggerate when I say the man is my hero), a heavy reader of his books and articles, and a Gilliam fanboy who's seen "Fear and Loathing" approximately 700 times, I was like a kid on Christmas when I found out that there's ANOTHER movie about Dr. Gonzo starring Bill Murray, one of my favorite actors. Little did I know the disappointment I was in for.
While Bill Murray, despite not resembling HST in the least, had his mannerisms down pat in this role, this film completely mangled Thompson's character. "Where the Buffalo Roam" portrays him as a rebel only in the shallowest sense, reminiscent more of an Animal House fratboy than an American outlaw as he tours the nation, freaking out the squares and starting parties everywhere he goes. The film touches on actual issues such as the War on Drugs only to create the illusion of some counter-culture message, but it never actually quotes any of Dr. Thompson's biting insight on the era portrayed in the film.
I could also cite how Peter Boyle was entirely wrong for the character he was playing and a number of other issues I had with this movie, but in a nutshell, the most glaring problem with "Where the Buffalo Roam" is that it takes some of Hunter S. Thompson's best and most insightful journalism, dumbs it down, and condenses it into a cockeyed, silly package that retains none of the power or message of its source material. This is the equivalent of Gonzo babyfood, good for a couple chuckles but little more. Stick with "Fear and Loathing" for your HST dose in film, Depp portrays a better Thompson, Del Toro is an infinitely better Zeta Acosta, and Gilliam as a directer just plain "gets it."
While Bill Murray, despite not resembling HST in the least, had his mannerisms down pat in this role, this film completely mangled Thompson's character. "Where the Buffalo Roam" portrays him as a rebel only in the shallowest sense, reminiscent more of an Animal House fratboy than an American outlaw as he tours the nation, freaking out the squares and starting parties everywhere he goes. The film touches on actual issues such as the War on Drugs only to create the illusion of some counter-culture message, but it never actually quotes any of Dr. Thompson's biting insight on the era portrayed in the film.
I could also cite how Peter Boyle was entirely wrong for the character he was playing and a number of other issues I had with this movie, but in a nutshell, the most glaring problem with "Where the Buffalo Roam" is that it takes some of Hunter S. Thompson's best and most insightful journalism, dumbs it down, and condenses it into a cockeyed, silly package that retains none of the power or message of its source material. This is the equivalent of Gonzo babyfood, good for a couple chuckles but little more. Stick with "Fear and Loathing" for your HST dose in film, Depp portrays a better Thompson, Del Toro is an infinitely better Zeta Acosta, and Gilliam as a directer just plain "gets it."
Like many guys, I was roped into watching this film by my girlfriend, and while I was expecting a chick flick that I would not enjoy but that would likely get me laid, nothing could have prepared me for the tidal wave of bullshit I was in for. "The Notebook" is one of the most unimaginitive, exploitive films I have ever seen, and Nicholas Sparks should be curbstomped for every hour he spent churning out this garbage.
Let's start with the positives. Cinematography was inoffensive and fellas, if you watch this with your special lady, you're almost sure to get laid.
And now on to the negatives. "The Notebook," while masquerading as a love story, in fact, has no story at all. The plot is barely existent, the characters are one-dimensional at best and impossible to like beyond a superficial level, and the storyline is shallower than a children's inflatable pool, existing solely to pimp Sparks's Easy-Bake, feel-good concept of romance. While most "chick-flicks" do their best to create likable characters, humorous situations, and some sort of conflict, "The Notebook" is content to instead show only a slideshow reel of Kodak moments, an abstract representation of our fast-food, home shopping network society's ideal of romance.
"The Notebook" is exploitive on every single level. In some ways, the film is worse than pornography, the way it masks its sleazy, purely commercial motivation under the guise of presenting a "love" story. In pornography, plot exists solely as a device to get from point A (the film's exposition), to point B (the sex) as quickly as possible. "The Notebook" uses a similar formula, but instead of graphic sex and nudity, this film's golden calf is a perfect, simplistic romance that faces conflict and challenge on the most superficial level possible. There's a massive section of the movie that contains little aside from the couple kissing each other in a variety of settings, all leading up to their first time sleeping together, which is, of course, perfect, just like everything else in this perfect, vacuous storyline.
I could go on and on, but I'm only allowed 1,000 words in this particular review. "The Notebook" is a shallow, simplistic, and wholly idiotic view of romance that seems to exist solely to make girls horny, a goal which it achieves remarkably. That being said, the film has no value on any real artistic level, be it storytelling, character development, or even simply on the level of pure entertainment. The entire film plays out like a slideshow you might play at your wedding - highlighting all the good times and ignoring anything that might make it remotely interesting. Everyone involved in the making of this film should feel dirty, especially the film-maker himself, who almost completely destroys the pre-eminence of the Cassavettes name in this one effort.
Let's start with the positives. Cinematography was inoffensive and fellas, if you watch this with your special lady, you're almost sure to get laid.
And now on to the negatives. "The Notebook," while masquerading as a love story, in fact, has no story at all. The plot is barely existent, the characters are one-dimensional at best and impossible to like beyond a superficial level, and the storyline is shallower than a children's inflatable pool, existing solely to pimp Sparks's Easy-Bake, feel-good concept of romance. While most "chick-flicks" do their best to create likable characters, humorous situations, and some sort of conflict, "The Notebook" is content to instead show only a slideshow reel of Kodak moments, an abstract representation of our fast-food, home shopping network society's ideal of romance.
"The Notebook" is exploitive on every single level. In some ways, the film is worse than pornography, the way it masks its sleazy, purely commercial motivation under the guise of presenting a "love" story. In pornography, plot exists solely as a device to get from point A (the film's exposition), to point B (the sex) as quickly as possible. "The Notebook" uses a similar formula, but instead of graphic sex and nudity, this film's golden calf is a perfect, simplistic romance that faces conflict and challenge on the most superficial level possible. There's a massive section of the movie that contains little aside from the couple kissing each other in a variety of settings, all leading up to their first time sleeping together, which is, of course, perfect, just like everything else in this perfect, vacuous storyline.
I could go on and on, but I'm only allowed 1,000 words in this particular review. "The Notebook" is a shallow, simplistic, and wholly idiotic view of romance that seems to exist solely to make girls horny, a goal which it achieves remarkably. That being said, the film has no value on any real artistic level, be it storytelling, character development, or even simply on the level of pure entertainment. The entire film plays out like a slideshow you might play at your wedding - highlighting all the good times and ignoring anything that might make it remotely interesting. Everyone involved in the making of this film should feel dirty, especially the film-maker himself, who almost completely destroys the pre-eminence of the Cassavettes name in this one effort.
