Theater Review: The Untitled Unauthorized Hunter S. Thompson Musical

 

Time was when journalists prided themselves on writing the truth, often going to great lengths to verify that.

But the political situation has changed over the years, and as power was assumed by one group or another, the look and sound of journalism changed as well.

Writer Hunter S. Thompson watched the changing tides and decided the journalist’s task needed to change as well. He saw himself at the center of what he regarded as “truth,” and pioneered what he called “gonzo” journalism, with himself at the center of all his stories.

“Objective journalism is one of the main reasons American politics has been allowed to be so corrupt for so long,” he wrote. “You can’t be objective about (President) Nixon.”

So Thompson wrote about how he experienced the events he covered. Thompson himself first used the term in his own 1971 novel “Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas,” in which protagonist Raoul Duke and his attorney, Doctor Gonzo descend on Las Vegas to pursue the American dream through a drug-induced haze, while ruminating on the failure of the 1960s countercultural movement.

Writing for “Rolling Stone” magazine, Thompson covered the weird, the misfits, the freaks and outsiders. But not objectively.

This show, with the impossibly long title of “The Untitled Unauthorized Hunter S. Thompson Musical,” careens from the 1940s to Thompson’s (suicide) death in 2005, with crazy songs by Joe Iconis and lots of era-appropriate dancing (by choreographer Jon Rua).

The show is like none I’ve ever seen, but then Thompson was unlike anyone as well, so it seems fitting. You’ll witness Thompson, his friends and less-than-friends, neighbors and the women in his life.

The set itself is jam-packed with stuff. I wish I’d brought my binoculars to see better all that stuff on the back wall, but the impression is one of muchness.

Gabriel Ebert heads the terrific cast as the iconoclastic Hunter. He is ably aided by Marcy Harriell as his wife Sandy and Giovanny Diaz de Leon, adorable as his young son, called here The Kid. (Or maybe that was his son AND another kid called The Kid. It all gets a bit confusing.)

Another standout is George Abud, excellent as Hunter’s friend Nixon.

This is a difficult show to watch, because nobody gets a break from all the activity, but it certainly does convey Hunter’s theory of gonzo journalism. It should be seen for its oddball subject and for the outstanding production.