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" Captain Jack Sparrow is made to look the picture of sobriety by Johnny Depp&amp;#039;s latest incarnation in The Rum Diary. It&amp;#039;s based on a novel Hunter S Thompson penned many years before his infamous cocaine chronicle Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, which Depp also brought to dizzy life on screen.  British director Bruce Robinson takes a slightly more down-to-earth approach than Terry Gilliam, but he lives up (or down?) to his reputation as the man who brought us Withnail &amp;amp; I by delivering a madcap caper driven in amusing zigzags by Depp&amp;#039;s intoxicated investigator. Honestly, Depp is too old for the part of idealistic reporter Paul Kemp, a character conceived by Thompson when he was in his early twenties. But as producer, he&amp;#039;s been trying to get the film made for almost two decades and even if his youthful looks are starting to fade, he still has the aura of a diehard rebel.  He wakes up hung over for his first day&amp;#039;s work on a Puerto Rican newspaper whose readership - in 1960 - is mostly made up of partying ex-pats. Kemp wants to rouse the rabble, but his jaded editor (a frothy-mouthed Richard Jenkins) tells him to wise up, sober up and go write the horoscopes section. Very soon, Kemp feels the need for another drink.  Kemp&amp;#039;s boozing buddy is photographer Sala (Michael Rispoli), the kind of greasy slob you could imagine lurking in the bushes for a cheeky snapshot. But even that seems like too much trouble for him, preferring a night at the cockfights instead. Giovanni Ribisi pops up occasionally like a freshly dug corpse, his journalistic career derailed by drugs.  It&amp;#039;s all a bit of a hoot and with only a hint of the poverty and unrest that surrounds this circus of good-time &amp;#039;gringos&amp;#039;. In fact, just a short stroll is enough to spark Kemp&amp;#039;s outrage and with a quick bit of digging he unearths a dodgy land deal hatched by US tycoon Hal Sanderson (a typically smooth Aaron Eckhart). Still, Sanderson throws a helluva party and Kemp is made guest of honour in return for some good press. Of course the crusading journo has other ideas, but these are often lost in a sea of rum and lust for Sanderson&amp;#039;s girlfriend (Amber Heard), the archetypal tart with a heart. Theirs is an airy fairy romance; clearly the fantasy of a stoned young man.  But this isn&amp;#039;t a taut anti-establishment conspiracy thriller either. The real mystery surrounds whether Kemp will ever find his backbone. He veers off course repeatedly and once, literally, in a hilarious car chase that sees him perched on Sala&amp;#039;s lap to reach the pedals. Finally, his drinking habit comes in useful as, with the use of a lighter, he turns his noxious breath into a flame thrower.  It&amp;#039;s amid pure chaos that Robinson and Depp feel most comfortable - even if Depp&amp;#039;s goggle-eyed expressions seem too big in natural lighting. His incendiary exploits won&amp;#039;t alter your perceptions of the world, they&amp;#039;ll just tip it nicely off balance.   "^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
<http://www.digitalspy.com/movies/review/a348155/the-rum-diary-review/>