The Rum Diary is a loosely jumbled bag of misadventure, satire, and drunken escapades that, while at times downright hilarious, can’t find its own voice and ends up as a shapeless chronicle of paradise. Unfortunately, the film loses focus of the themes Hunter S. Thompson was channeling, instead following the wacky, downward spiral of Paul Kemp which Johnny Depp has perfected so well with past characters.

The film opens in 1960’s Puerto Rico, and hits the ground running with a drunken Paul Kemp who, attempting to escape the rush of New York City, has taken up a job for a local newspaper while trying to find his voice as an author. So Kemp (alias Hunter S. Thompson) enters Puerto Rico in a time of flux — the paper he’s joining is in a downward spiral while rioting is going on in the streets. At the paper Kemp begins writing for editor-in-chief Lotterman (Richard Jenkins) and befriends photographer Sala (Michael Rispoli). Eventually, Kemp moves in with Sala, who lives in a warn-down apartment he shares with a cockatoo and the nazi-sympathizing, crime reporter Moberg (Giovanni Ribisi), a one-time rock star of a reporter, who has seems to be living off any alcohol and drugs he can get his hands on.

Meanwhile, the rich and wealthy are attempting to convert this tropical paradise into a capitalistic goldmine for rich American tourists and businessmen. This particular group is represented by Sanderson (Aaron Eckhart), who approaches Kemp with the opportunity to write for his campaign to develop hotels and resorts on a remote island. Kemp reluctantly agrees — in part because he needs the money — and meets Sanderson’s gorgeous girlfriend, Chenault (Amber Heard).

Kemp is faced with several moral dilemmas, first whether to, against his better judgment, help Sanderson in his scheme, and secondly whether to act upon the clear attraction he shares with Chenault. As with many such themes in the film, these issues aren’t given much attention, instead the film follows the many drunken escapades shared between Kemp and Sala. Thankfully, Depp and Rispoli share a certain chemistry which leads to moments of hilarity – whether it be a (not so) high-speed chase, or moments of alcohol induced trips.

What results is mild entertainment, moments of absurdity drunken abandon can’t seem to distract from the fact that something more is needed to provide either emotional or thematic depth. Director Bruce Robinson is no stranger at making this formula work, whose cult classic Withnail & I was much more successful at adding depth and coherency to the proceedings. Instead the film is disappointing in its inability to find a proper shape or structure to the fascinating life and opinions of Hunter S. Thompson.

Grade: C

Rating: R (For language, brief drug use and sexuality.)