Wayne Ewing documents Hunter S. Thompson on video with Breakfast with Hunter
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"Wayne Ewing is one of the ballsiest film-makers working today, an artist who is dedicated to the idea of telling some bigger truths no matter who might be rubbed wrong."
- John Aiello, Electric Review



by William McKeen, author of Outlaw Journalist and professor and chair, Boston University Department of Journalism

Wayne Ewing's Breakfast with Hunter was a great documentary film, but it had one small problem: it ended.
Ewing has rectified this shortcoming with Animals, Whores and Dialogue, a welcome sequel to - and continuation of - Breakfast with Hunter. We get a little more time with the exhilarating and fascinating American writer, Hunter S. Thompson.
Ewing - who, for 30 years, was Thompson's cinematic Boswell - adds to his brilliant portrait of this major artist.
Rarely has a filmmaker had such a long and intimate audience with his subject. Ewing began following Thompson in the 1980s and amassed miles of film before the writer's suicide in February 2005.
In Animals, Whores and Dialogue, we get to watch Thompson as he ritually prepares to write - parrying with his friends, bouncing ideas around the room, formulating what he needs to say.
Breakfast with Hunter, like the man's life, ended too soon. That film also followed the writer through a number of episodes over the course of several years.
Animals, Whores and Dialogue is much more tightly focused. It lingers on Thompson's efforts in the course of a single evening to write a column, with side journeys to his sentimental Louisville homecoming and the American literary establishment's tribute to him on the 25th anniversary of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas.
Rather than covering a lot of years and ground, the new film allows Ewing to give viewers the sense of what it was like to spend an evening in the kitchen, reading, laughing and arguing.
Unfortunately, there was no gifted documentary filmmaker to follow around Mark Twain. But Wayne Ewing was smart enough to recognize that his Colorado neighbor was an artist of immense - and under-appreciated - talent. But for the electric typewriter and the attire, there probably wasn't a lot of difference between spending an evening with Twain and an evening with Thompson. Both were brilliant and astute observers of American culture.
Since Thompson's suicide in 2005, his friends and admirers have often mused about what he would have had to say about the events of recent years. Alas, Ewing was not granted access to Thompson's afterlife. But he does temporarily resurrect Thompson, sitting him down behind the typewriter in the kitchen and putting him to work.
It's great to have him back.

Charles Thomson, The Huffington Post
"With so much emphasis put on Hunter S. Thompson's eccentric lifestyle, it is easy to forget that at his best he was arguably the most astute political commentator of the last century. Tales of Thompson's debauched lifestyle overshadowed his work for much of his career and this has continued to be the case in the years since his death. But it is Thompson's prose that takes centre stage in Animals, Whores & Dialogue, Wayne Ewing's new verite documentary about the late author."
Read the whole review here

James Campion, The Aquarian Weekly
"Animals, Whores & Dialogue is a remarkable glimpse into Hunter S. Thompson's "process"; the act of getting the whirlwind of sledgehammer phrases banging playfully around his skull onto the page, whilst he sufficiently feeds his psyche with booze, dope, music, ranging his spastic ammo on every media distraction from piles of newspapers to his ever-running televisions, and, of course, gathering an audience for "the show."
Read the whole review here

Hunter S. Thompson Documentaries
by Brian Duff - FILMINK, March 2007

With his ambitious troika of documentaries - Breakfast With Hunter, When I Die and Free Lisl: Fear & Loathing In Denver - director Wayne Ewing somehow succeeds in shedding even further light on the late gonzo journalist Hunter S. Thompson. Despite his hermetic home life in rural Colorado, Thompson was on near constant display during his later years, mostly due to the 1998 film dramatization of the seminal Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas. The film brought him enormous celebrity until his death in 2005, and could easily have rendered weaker docks mere footnotes. But through an unflinching eye and with a light editing touch, Ewing manages to add to the Thompson pantheon, rather than simply cataloguing it.

Free Lisl follows Hunter and friends as they take up bombastic democratic arms against an unfairly applied, overzealous law, and crafts Thompson as a humble elder statesman. Less angelic is the Thompson on display in Breakfast With Hunter, an unfocused, if more interesting film. In it he is toasted by writers George Plimpton and P.J. O'Rourke as well as actors Johnny Depp and John Cusack. Even celebrity preening does little to curtail either his ugly virtriol or infectious mischievousness, both on vivid display as Thompson boozes and rambles, and exhibits great affection and anger toward friend and foe alike. While nowhere near as important as Free Lisl or as energetic as Breakfast, When I die is a documentary worth consideration for its subject matter alone. It tracks the construction Ð and later use Ð of a fifty-metre cannon in the shape of the two thumbed gonzo fist, built for the express purpose of firing the writer's earthly remains into the sky; the logistics and legality of which form the crux of the movie. Suffice it to say that the cannon does indeed fire: a fitting cap to Thompson's life and Ewing's film, all of which are available for purchase at www.hunterthompsonfilm.com.


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Ticket to Ride
by Slarek - DVD Outsider

I'm going to arrogantly kick off this review with the assumption that the majority of you will at the very least know who Hunter S. Thompson is. This is, after all, a site with a particular interest in artists who work outside of the mainstream and those whose work can, given the right set of sociopolitical conditions and that indeterminable element that is chance, become the subject of a cult following. Both are true of Dr. Thompson, but to say that his seminal self-portrait of journalistic misadventure and insane drug consumption that is Fear & Loathing in Las Vegas was and is a cult novel is an understatement akin to claiming that Romeo and Juliet has, on occasion, been performed on the stage. If you haven't read it and are not cursed by some conservative puritanical streak then I can't recommend it highly enough. It's outrageous, wonderfully written, intermittently hilarious and it takes you on a journey that few would be prepared to embark on in real life.

Thompson himself has remained a counter-culture icon. Credited as the creator of gonzo journalism (look it up if you don't know it - the term has made it's way into most reputable dictionaries), his early work attracted a passionate following, but after accusations of repetition in his writing and a poor response to the first film based on his work and life, Art Linson's 1980 Where the Buffalo Roam starring Bill Murray, he became something of a recluse, moving to a 'heavily fortified compound' in Wood Creek, Colorado known as Owl Farm. The release of Terry Gilliam's 1998 film version of Fear & Loathing in Las Vegas, starring Johnny Depp and Benicio del Toro, helped introduce his work to a new generation of enthusiastic readers and the cult once again took hold. Thompson continued to write and put his journalistic weight behind issues he believed in, including the shaky conviction of Lisl Auman for the murder of a police officer, a successful campaign captured for posterity by documentary filmmaker Wayne Ewing in his 2006 film Free Lisl: Fear & Loathing in Denver. At a time when Thompson seemed to be carefully controlling just how much of himself he wanted revealed to public gaze he made a notable exception for Ewing and his camera. Originally planned several years earlier as a TV series to be shot on 16mm, Breakfast with Hunter focuses primarily on the period between September 1996, when Thompson was battling a trumped up Driving Under the Influence charge, to the New York premiere of the Fear & Loathing movie in May 1998.

From the opening scene you know you're in for a lively ride, as Hunter holds court at Hollywood's The Viper Room, takes a question from an audience member who he then has ejected, and is joined on stage by actors Johnny Depp and John Cusack, the latter providing a delicious reading of an hilariously indignant letter sent by Hunter to Deputy District Attorney Lawson Wills in response to the above mentioned DUI charge. A party organised to mark the twenty-fifth anniversary of the publication of Fear & Loathing in Las Vegas provides us with a glimpse of Hunter as both lucid interviewee and playful anarchist, his walk to Rolling Stone founder Jann Wenner's office enlivened by the discovery of a fire extinguisher with which he blasts his dismayed publisher in the middle of a business call. Conservative journalist and some time comedy writer P.J. O'Rourke and McGovern campaign manager Frank Mankiewicz salute Hunter's talent, his son Juan pays a sincere and moving tribute to a fine father figure, while his good friend Ralph Steadman expresses concern for his health and effectively winds him up by suggesting that if it wasn't for his illustrations then Fear & Loathing would have gone unnoticed. There's even an extract from and old Thames TV article on Hunter's campaign to become sheriff of Aspen back in 1970, something I never expected to find in an American documentary feature and an amusing reminder that British commercial television could sound as snootily superior as the stuffiest BBC report of the period.

In the tradition of the Direct Cinema works of the Maysles Bothers and D.A. Pennebaker, Ewing and his camera do not just observe Hunter going about his life and business they become part of it, and thus by association so do we. There's an enthralling intimacy to Ewing's participation, with the players alternately ignoring and acknowledging the camera's presence as they might any third party in the room. Occasionally there is direct interaction between Ewing and his subjects, a component of American Direct Cinema films from Wolf Koenig and Roman Kroitor's Lonely Boy (1962) through to the Maysles' Grey Gardens (1975), and later the barrier between filmmaker and subject is temporarily stripped away when Hunter sits with Fear & Loathing producer Laila Nabulsi and actor Benicio del Toro to watch and comment on Ewing's footage from a previous scene in this very film.

Thompson himself is, of course, a dream subject for such a cinematic record. Unpredictable and volatile but also witty and intelligent, he's always entertaining, a genuine American eccentric who survived a descent into a chemical and alcoholic abyss and looks deceivingly well on it. He's rarely caught without a drink in his hand or at least close to it, the perpetual glass of iced whisky accompanying him to meetings, for walks down the street and even while driving. Inevitably this comes across as light-hearted, part of Thompson's enduring charm and fuck-you attitude to the expectations of so-called civilised society. But collectively this can't help but suggest a recklessness bordering on wilful self-destruction, not least in the eye-popping moment in which a bathrobe wearing Thompson is caught in a hotel room fixing himself a tall glass of whisky for breakfast. The retrospective knowledge of his 2005 suicide, which may or may not have been at least partly prompted by illness induced physical pain, can't help but cast such moments in a darker light and make you aware that there was at least one aspect of his life that Thompson was not so willing to expose to the camera, masking it is behind a wall of cheerful and unwavering energy. Hunter comes across as a performer who delights in the company and reaction of his carefully selected companions. In a telling moment he presents Nabulsi with a Polaroid of himself sitting alone on a bed to illustrate how he feels and why he feels that way, prompting her to suggest that hell for Hunter would be the isolation the picture vividly suggests, to have no audience to play to.

But one of the most valuable aspects of Breakfast with Hunter, at least in film history terms, is its record of the helm control change on the film version of Fear & Loathing in Las Vegas. The ousting of original director Alex Cox and his co-scriptwriter Tod Davies has always been something that gets danced around rather than discussed in any detail - producer Laila Nabulsi's contribution to an audio supplement on Criterion's excellent 2-disc DVD release of the film provides a useful overview of what occurred, but is nonetheless still teasingly shy on the specifics. And yet here it all is, from Cox and Davies' first fateful visit to Owl Farm to the premiere of Gilliam's version, collectively the longest linear sequence in the film and one of its most fascinating. The meeting between Cox, Davies and Thompson in particular is both revealing and uncomfortable, with Thompson's increasing irritation and Cox and Davies' seeming intransigence blowing a disagreement up into what comes perilously close to an all-out fight – you have to hear to Ewing's DVD commentary to realise just how dangerous this situation had become. A short while later this very footage is being assessed by Thompson, Nabulsi and del Toro and Cox is dropped from the project. Tellingly, from the first moment we see del Toro he seems seems completely and comfortably in tune with Thompson in the very way that Cox and Davies did not. There's even a scene with Thompson on set of Gilliam's production for his cameo appearance* and some brief but priceless footage of Depp shadowing Thompson to develop his character.

This alone would make Breakfast with Hunter an invaluable film document and an must-have for Fear and Loathing fans looking to complete a background picture of the production. But the joy of the film is that this is just part of a rich cornucopia of material that collectively paints a revealing, consistently absorbing and yet touchingly personal portrait of a unique and fascinating artist, a brilliant and fiercely individualistic talent who will very likely go down in history as one of the late twentieth century's greatest writers. I'll admit there are still a couple of Hunter Thompson related film pieces I've yet to see, but for now I'll happily champion Breakfast with Hunter, a winning shot, edited and scored film that is as enlightening as it is entertaining, as THE Hunter S. Thompson movie.


Shot on video over a period that may well have entailed more than one camera and even video format and including archive material on everything from home video to 16mm film, the 4:3 transfer is nonetheless consistently pleasing, the more recent high-band video material displaying very good colour, contrast and detail, despite some inevitable whiting out of highlights. Even the old 16mm shot Thames TV report looks better than I'd have expected, given how grubby such archive footage often looks when incorporated into UK TV documentaries. There is considerable digital grain and a drop in colour in darker interiors, but this is par for the vérité course and never an issue.

A single Dolby 2.0 stereo soundtrack is offered and is of high quality, especially given the inherent problems of recording sound under vérité conditions. Here it's consistently clear and despite the helpful inclusion of subtitles for Hunter's "low guttural mumblings" I had no problem at all following his dialogue. The source music, selected by Hunter himself, is reproduced with crystal clarity.


While other Wayne Ewing DVDs have been a little light on extra features, Breakfast with Hunter is very well specified in this area. Most are made up of footage not used in the feature, of which there must be a considerable amount given the time Ewing and his camera spent in Thompson's company, but there's also one other, excellent inclusion...

Commentary by Wayne Ewing and Hunter S. Thompson
There's an up-front announcement that Thompson had to be repeatedly cajoled to participate in this commentary and that he only stays for the first third of the film (and apparently even that took two weeks to record), but it's an enjoyable and sometimes enlightening 35 minutes, with Ewing effectively prompting Hunter for comments relating to the on-screen action. Perhaps surprisingly (on second thoughts, perhaps not), it's once Ewing is on his own that the commentary really delivers the goods, mixing the anecdotal with back stories and technical details to consistently engaging and informative effect. This reaches a compelling peak in the sequence with Alex Cox and Tod Davies, where Ewing expertly deconstructs this fateful encounter, his comments regarding Cox's invasion of Thompson's personal space tantalisingly suggestive of a darker, potentially violent side of Thompson's personality that in the wrong circumstances could unexpectedly and dangerously erupt. It's also through the commentary that we get to understand the level of commitment Ewing had to this project, which took a staggering eighteen years to complete and involved him working for Thompson in a number of other capacities, including road manager and assistant editor on several of his books.

Screwjack (9:46)
An entertaining sequence that cuts between writer P.J. O'Rourke and actor Don Johnson as they both read the infamous love letter to Screwjack from Thompson's 1991 story in Hunter's presence at Owl Farm.

Warren Zevon (4:14)
The composer and singer of Lawyers, Guns and Money visits the farm to work with Thompson on the song that eventually appeared on Zevon's 1992 album My Ride's Here as You're a Different Person When You're Scared.

Journalism Gonzo (12:43)
Part of an interview conducted by P.J. O'Rourke with Hunter at Owl Farm for Rolling Stone in 1996 and it says something about the relationship between the two men that this plays more like a social call, two friends sharing memories over a few drinks. It's consistently interesting and often revealing, as the two discuss and compare Nabokov's Lolita with Thomas Mann's Death in Venice and talk about the origins of the word Gonzo. Hunter reveals that the its inclusion in modern dictionaries is one of his proudest achievements.

Oscar Acosta (5:54)
Hunter reminisces about Oscar Acosta, the man who was identified in Fear & Loathing in Las Vegas as Dr. Gonzo and who mysteriously disappeared in the mid 1970s. Included here is a tantalising snippet from the Viper Room session in which Thompson talks briefly about audio tape recordings made on the trip that inspired the book.

The Rum Diary (5:10)
A 1998 editing session on Hunter's (then) upcoming book The Rum Diary, originally written in the early 1960s and loosely based on his experiences as a journalist in Puerto Rico. Brief but still interesting, especially with the book now up for film adaptation with Johnny Depp in the lead and Bruce Robinson in the director's chair.

Fear & Loathing in America (6:04)
A late night editing session on Fear & Loathing in America in January 2000 with Hunter, Simon & Shuster editor Marysue Rucci and journalist and friend Curtis Robinson. Hunter is so on the ball here.

HT Bibliography
Detailed bibliography of Dr. Thompson's work.


I came late to this film but with admittedly sympathetic eyes. I have for a long time been a fan of Thompson's writing and having discovered the work of Wayne Ewing through his groundbreaking cinematography on Homicide: Life on the Street have only recently been catching up on his work as a director, all of which I've enjoyed. But here the two talents seem genuinely made for one another, Thomson's larger-than-life personality the perfect subject for Ewing's watchful yet unobtrusive camera, which gets us closer to the real Hunter S. Thompson than any documentary or interview you'll have seen before or are likely to see again. It's one of those films I feel no inclination to be objective about and enjoyed every keenly observed minute of. Hunter S. Thompson devotees should consider it an essential purchase and no fan of the Fear & Loathing movie should be without it. If you know Thompson's work then Breakfast with Hunter will make you wish you'd had the opportunity to meet him, and if you don't then I can almost guarantee that by the film's end you'll want to read his work, and hopefully see more of Ewing's.

The DVD is first rate, featuring a fine transfer and a small treasure trove of additional material, including a very informative commentary track. As with other Wayne Ewing DVDs, you won't find this one in the shops and will need to order it direct from Ewing's web site at www.hunterthompsonfilms.com. You won't be disappointed. Highly recommended.

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Breakfast With Hunter
by Scott Foundas - Variety
In Wayne Ewing's rollicking docu "Breakfast With Hunter," elder statesman of American counter-culturalism and self-styled "champion of fun" Hunter S. Thompson finally gets what he deserves -- a movie that captures the essence of his jazzy pop journalism while casting a vaguely wearisome eye on the cult of celebrity. Other pics -- notably "Where the Buffalo Roam" (1980) and "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas" (1998) -- tried to translate Thompson's "gonzo" writings and lifestyle to the screen, but never found the right balance between comic absurdity and the revolutionary spirit of the 1960s. But "Breakfast," shot over most of the 1990s with Ewing (an Emmy-nominated television documentarian) given intimate access, succeeds by giving auds the man himself, undiluted, 200 proof. After world premiere at Cinevegas, pic looks to have a lively future as a fest and specialized theatrical item, given the continued interest in Thompson and the starry cast of admirers on display here.
Born in Louisville, Ky., Thompson made a name for himself in the 1960s writing about the likes of the Kentucky Derby, the Hell's Angels and the Vietnam War in the pages of The Nation, Scanlan's Monthly and, most significantly, Rolling Stone. It was there, with the generous (and very patient) backing of Jann Wenner, that Thompson would publish his definitive "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas," which re-imagined a road trip to Vegas as a journey through the decaying landscape of the American dream, as well as the subsequent "Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail," which documented George McGovern's failed presidential bid against Richard Nixon.
"Vegas," which cemented Thompson's reputation as America's liquor-and-acid-drenched nonconformist laureate, was electrifying, and so was Thompson, holing himself up in a "heavily fortified" Aspen compound and regularly entertaining himself (or, at least, the media) with such antics as burning a Christmas tree in his fireplace and firing a loaded gun at his own typewriter.
With his trademark visor hat, oversize sunglasses and bottle of Chivas Regal, Thompson became an icon of "cool," arguably less to his own generation than to the subsequent ones that have marveled that America was once such a raucous, unsteady, socially-conscious place. In "Breakfast With Hunter," the author is regularly glimpsed among a coterie of admirers -- actors Johnny Depp and John Cusack, mobs of fans at book signings -- half his own age or younger (an exception to this generational crossover being his appearance at a birthday party for McGovern in Washington D.C.)
Pic documents Thompson's 1995 legal battle against the Aspen police who, ultimately, had insufficient evidence to arrest him on a DUI charge. Those who don't already admire Thompson's tireless dedication to upending the cultural "status quo" likely will come away from "Breakfast" with such an appreciation.
Ewing approaches the film as a verite immersion into Thompson's world, and he succeeds at this with considerable skill; he's very good at fading into the background so as not to interfere with what's happening on screen. In one truly remarkable scene,director Alex Cox (who was originally going to helm "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas") and his co-screenwriter Todd Davies pay a visit to Thompson in Aspen to discuss the progress of the "Fear and Loathing" screenplay. They find themselves the target of a vitriolic rant by the author, who objects to the use in their script of scenes inspired by the cartoon imagery of longtime Thompson collaborator Ralph Steadman. (Thompson would subsequently instigate Cox's firing from the movie.) It's an awkward, voyeuristic moment -- the sort of thing where the viewer expects the participants to demand the cameras stop rolling -- except that everyone seems to have forgotten the cameras are there.
That's not unusual for Thompson, who's always "on," as though the entire world were waiting to see what outrageous stunt he'll pull next. It's easy, in fact, to see Thompson as the uncredited influence behind the creation of the "Jackass" television series -- something of which Ewing is keenly aware. Ewing never tries to overly criticize Thompson for this, but he can't help occasionally cringing at the way Thompson's public, ageless-frat-boy persona has increasingly threatened to dwarf his status as a lion of contemporary American reporting. As Thompson himself once summed up: "I'm afraid I've become addicted to my own adrenaline."
Camera (color, digital video), Ewing, Mark Muhein, Steve York; associate producer, Jennifer Erskine. Reviewed at Cinevegas Film Festival, Las Vegas, June 17, 2003. Running time: 91 MIN.
Copyright 2003, Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc.

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Breakfast With Hunter
by Sheri Linden - The Hollywood Reporter
Bottom line: At home and on the road with journalist-provocateur Hunter S. Thompson, captured in all his intensity.
Eighteen years in the making, Wayne Ewing's "Breakfast With Hunter" is an intimate verite portrait that honors its subject with fierce affection and respect.
Eschewing a talking-heads bio approach, the film assumes knowledge of Hunter S. Thompson's work but nevertheless serves as an incisive intro for the uninitiated. Among a cavalcade of luminaries, Johnny Depp, Benicio Del Toro and John Cusack make notable, decidedly non-glam appearances, clearly thrilled to be hanging out with the inventor and eminence grise of gonzo journalism.
As a friend, neighbor and colleague of Thompson, Ewing, whose television helming and DP credits include "Bill Moyers' Journal," "Frontline" and "Homicide," was afforded remarkable access.
The film- and DV-shot documentary had its world premiere June 21 as the closing-night selection of the CineVegas festival (with Thompson in attendance). It deserves further fest exposure and is a natural for docu-themed cable slots. The right distributor could parlay the writer's iconoclastic appeal into limited theatrical play for art house and college crowds.
Ewing centers on 1996-97, when Thompson was busy on three fronts: battling what he considered a political arrest in Aspen, Colo., on bogus DUI charges; making appearances at 25th anniversary celebrations of his 1971 book "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas"; and, in the film's most compelling sequence, confronting creative obstacles to big-screen plans for that book, in the form of a profoundly misguided director and screenwriter.
During the round of 25th-anniversary tributes, those offering praise cover the political spectrum from P.J. O'Rourke to George McGovern, and Thompson's son, Juan, delivers a moving appreciation of his integrity and his place in American letters.
Reading Thompson's work to audiences, an amused Cusack, the gum-chewing, deadpan Depp and an exultant Roxanne Pulitzer present ample evidence of the author's moral clarity and the caustic humor and diamond-sharp prose with which he's raged against hypocrisy for more than three decades.
Here the soundtrack to those decades is replete with songs by Warren Zevon and the clink of ice in a tall glass of Chivas. The film's title refers to the prodigious all-nighters the director and other valiant stony warriors shared with Thompson, especially at Owl Farm, his "heavily fortified," peacock-friendly ranch near Aspen. There's a revealing glimpse of the friendship between Thompson and longtime collaborator Ralph Steadman when the artist visits the compound with an offering of rare Scotches and a startling revisionist assessment of his role in the author's work.
But the incident Ewing rightly puts center stage is the astounding meeting between Thompson and the team initially assigned to the film adaptation of "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas" -- scripter Tod Davies and helmer Alex Cox, whose outlaw sympathies ("Sid and Nancy," "Straight to Hell") might have made him seem the right choice for the project. (They both received screenwriting credit, along with others, on the Terry Gilliam-directed 1998 film.) The would-be collaboration implodes when the duo earnestly present a ham-fisted visual concept for a key section of the book, a passage that Thompson accurately calls "one of the best things I've ever written."
Second only to Cox and Davies' mind-boggling literalness is the obduracy with which they cling to their dumb idea in the face of Thompson's reasonable objections and rising anger. Their self-destruction is fascinating to behold; later, watching tape of the incident in Thompson's Chateau Marmont suite, Del Toro can only marvel at their unwillingness to bend, or at least shut up.
The scene that unfolds recalls another memorable cinema verite moment: Donovan's humiliation at Dylan's hands in "Don't Look Back." But this exchange draws its power not from any casually sadistic streak on Thompson's part but from his clearheaded defense of his work against clueless marauders. "Breakfast With Hunter" is a convincing exploration of why that work matters.
(c) 2003 VNU eMedia, Inc. http://www.vnuemedia.com All rights reserved.

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Breakfast With Hunter
by Eric Campos - Film Threat
In an interview I recently did with "Breakfast With Hunter" filmmaker Wayne Ewing, I asked him if he had any tips for aspiring documentary filmmakers. He responded by saying, "My best advice for aspiring documentary filmmakers would be to find situations in which you might have remarkable and unusual access and then exploit it for all its worth." Here’s a guy that obviously follows his own advice as he’s utilized his friendship with the reclusive Hunter S. Thompson to offer us a unique, and quite possibly once-in-a-lifetime, look into the personal life of Dr. Gonzo. Ever wish you could see what goes on behind those famed, heavily fortified walls of Owl Farm? Here’s your invitation.
Wayne Ewing does us the favor of forgoing generic documentary form and gives fans just what they want – Hunter in action. There are no talking head interviews, no droning narration, no one ever addresses the camera, it’s just we the audience, along with Ewing and his camera, who have been granted the special privilege to hang out on the sidelines and observe this man’s private life. It’s cinema verite at its finest.
"Breakfast With Hunter" features footage stretching some thirty years back with Hunter running for Pitkin County Sheriff, but most of this revealing documentary takes place during the latter half of the 90s as Hunter keeps himself barricaded inside the gorgeous Owl Farm, emerging only to continue his ongoing legal battles with the local authorities and to work on the film version of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. There is quite a bit of footage focusing on way early pre-production for the film, when directors were still being juggled around. This includes, what I thought was one of the most jaw-dropping segments of the documentary, the very meeting that ended Alex Cox’s relationship with the production. We’re right there in the middle of the meeting as Hunter rakes Alex over the coals for wanting to incorporate animation into the film. Every Fear and Loathing junkie out there will absolutely want to see this.
All in all, this is a film for the fans, provided by someone who was brave enough to be there to witness the Gonzo madness first hand. There more than likely won’t be a documentary that gets so close to the man ever again. Hope you’re on a liquid diet, because this is "Breakfast With Hunter."
Copyright 2003 By Gore Group Publications

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Breakfast With Hunter
by Chris Parry - Hollywood Bitchslap

Click here: Hollywood Bitchslap - Breakfast With Hunter

Breakfast With Hunter
by Anthony Reynolds - FroggyDelight.com

Click here: FroggyDelight.com - Breakfast with Hunter


"Breakfast with Hunter" Customer
West Columbia, South Carolina

I would like to congratulate Mr. Ewing on a job well done on the "Breakfast with Hunter" documentary. I was excited when I ordred it and was not let down at all. I would also like to let thank you for the quick shipment of my order, and look forward to purchasing more of his work. Thank you.


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When I Die
If you gottat go, go gonzo
Rolling Stone
12/29/2005 - 1/13/2006
Naturally, Hunter S. Thompson wanted himself memorialized on a Colorado hillside with a towering monument topped by a cannon and a 3-D cast of his double-thumbed, peyote-button-gripping fist logo. After HST's death, the wacko sequence of events - including contentious town meetings and a fire marshal's protest - led to this wish becoming reality. Shown here, the monumental outcome is much like the honoree: inflammatory, excessive and awe-inspiring.


When I Die
by Ben Fong Torres - San Francisco Chronicle
In his suicide note, written a few days before he shot himself to death in February, Hunter S. Thompson scrawled: "No more Games, No More Bombs. No More Walking. No More Fun..." Well, maybe a few more bombs. In 1977, Thompson, the gonzo journalist and doctor of excess, said that upon his demise he wanted to have his ashes blasted out of a cannon. He even helped design his own memorial, a 150-foot-high fist clutching a peyote button. After Thompson's suicide, Johnny Depp, who had portrayed him in "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas," put up $2.6 million to build the monument - a temporary one, to assuage concerned neighbors in Woody Creek, Colorado - for a final sendoff in August, attended by some 400 friends. "When I Die" by Wayne Ewing, follows the designers and producers as they draw up the plans, work out legal and safety issues, and finally, send Thompson's ashes skyward, in 34 mortar shells, amid a fireworks display. Recalling the Maysles brothers' film about Cristo, this is a fascinating look into the process of creativity, with a dash of madness. Ewing doesn't cover the star-studded service itself and provides on a few minutes of Thompson himself. For more of the good doctor, get another Ewing documentary, "Breakfast With Hunter."


Free Lisl: Fear and Loathing in Denver (DVD, 2006)
Directed by Wayne Ewing
(Wayne Ewing Films)
Reviewed by James Hughes for Stop Smiling

"The case of Lisl Auman, who first wrote to me from prison three years ago, is so rotten and wrong and shameful that I feel dirty just for knowing about it, and so should you." And with that lede, Hunter S. Thompson's inflammatory piece in the June 2004 issue of Vanity Fair cracked the story of a "Colorado injustice" wide open. A national audience beyond the readership of Thompson's online column for ESPN was now aware of the grassroots efforts to free Lisl Auman, a then-28 year old woman serving a life sentence a crime she did not commit. It was a campaign that had its roots with Auman's family in Denver, though was bolstered dramatically by Thompson's ability to rally legions of A-list admirers from across the country - the Free Lisl Committee included such luminaries as Jack Nicholson, Lyle Lovett and Benecio Del Toro - and, more importantly, a team of legal experts to support his call. With their help, Thompson revived the sense of frontier justice that inspired his most vitriolic prose and made the picaresque media spectacles of the world's first and only gonzo journalist so infectious, particularly in the Seventies, when Thompson's enemies were clearly defined (recall his run for sheriff of Aspen on the Freak Power ticket, or the bombs lobbed at Richard Nixon in the pages of Rolling Stone). This particular episode - the final muckraking act in a career cut short by Thompson's suicide in 2005 - is captured in Wayne Ewing's latest DVD documentary, Free Lisl: Fear and Loathing in Denver, which marks the Colorado-based filmmaker's second posthumous study of Thompson's legacy. The first, When I Die (2005), detailed the preparations for Thompson's elaborate, vaudevillian funeral in Woody Creek, and his verite meditation on the writer's domestic life, Breakfast with Hunter, was released in 2003, when Thompson was still working from his catbird seat at Owl Farm.

It took more than Ewing's indoctrination into Thompson's inner circle to plunge into the sordid story of Auman's incarceration - his experience as a documentary filmmaker at PBS and NBC News was a necessary asset. (Those expecting a sequel of sorts to Breakfast with Hunter will encounter a decidedly different film, with Thompson occupying a supporting role.) The case of Lisl Auman and its subsequent backlash had been brewing in Colorado since 1998, when Auman, 21, was sentenced to life without parole for the murder of a Denver policeman, Bruce Vanderjagt. The murder occurred after a foiled robbery and a subsequent car chase, which ended in a shootout in the suburbs of Denver. The fatal shot was fired by a companion Auman hardly knew, and occurred while she was in police custody, handcuffed in the back of a patrol car after surrendering to the authorities. The killer, Matthaeus Jaehnig, shot himself at the crime scene, leaving Auman as the lone surviving participant, and the pressure was on to convict. As Gerry Goldstein, former president of the National Association of Criminal Defense Lawyers, explains in the film, Auman was a victim of an arcane British common law, a "transferred intent concept whereby, if you act in convert with others, the law presumes that you're responsible for their actions as well as yours, even if you didn't intend them." Indeed, as the assistant attorney general says in one clip of courtroom coverage: "She set into motion this chain of actions É It does not matter where she was É She could have been on the MIR Space Station."

The details of the case are grizzly and often perplexing - Neo-Nazis, circumstantial evidence, media bias - and it's best to allow the events to unfold through Ewing's reportage and not divulge the nuances here. Though the film often relies on local television coverage of the case to fill in those gaps, as well as copious extracts from Thompson's Vanity Fair article, the real narrative thread comes courtesy of Don Auman, father of Lisl, who shares his archive of newspaper clippings for the camera, guiding the viewer through the Sisyphean setbacks and hard-fought victories in his daughter's case. It's far from a spoiler to reveal that Auman was ultimately released from prison. That much is clear when she introduces the film as a free woman, and is interviewed throughout its 80-minute running time. (Auman is on probation until 2017.)

The centerpiece of Free Lisl is Ewing's footage of the Auman family watching a video cassette of the rally that hundreds of citizens attended at the Denver State Capitol in May 2001, while Auman was still imprisoned. As was often the case, Thompson was the main event, but with a noticeably softer edge. Not only had he exchanged his iconic aviator sunglasses for more age-appropriate wraparound shades, but it's a jolt to see the Good Doctor standing at the podium, flanked by thirtysomethings holding Kinkos signage and homemade posters with "Free Lisl" written in Magic Marker instead of being framed by the Steadman splatters and flocks of acid bats we've grown accustomed to.

Later, as Thompson interprets the scene from the Capitol steps and takes notes on a large yellow legal pad - each word scrawled the size of a John Hancock - it confirms his loss from the cultural landscape, particularly with the announcement last week that the Democratic National Convention will land in his backyard of Denver in 2008. Thompson's ability to kick up dirt on his home turf was something worthy of our attention. He was a vital, if diminishing, resource for alerting the young to the dawning of the New Dumb and bracing them for the hatred that can be stirred by unchecked power. Such was the case even for Auman, who recalls in an interview with Ewing that there was a time several years into her life sentence when she had only a copy of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas to keep her company in her prison cell. "I felt I could understand him," she said, "even in his madness."


Free Lisl!
DVD review by John Adams, www.moviehabit.com

Note: This is the second in a three-part series on DVDs about Hunter S. Thompson from director Wayne Ewing. Look for part three February 20.

This is not a film about Hunter S. Thompson, though he occupies the eye of a legal storm swirling around a woman, Lisl Auman, who was sentenced to life in prison for a murder everyone agrees she did not commit. As Warren Zevon sings at the beginning of Free Lisl on the steps of the Colorado state capitol, "send guns, lawyers and money, the shit has hit the fan."
The lawyers do show up, but only after the big gun of Hunter S. Thompson's high-profile indignation came to bear. Presumably the money (or its equivalent) came with the big media exposure of a case that demanded correction. The shit does what it always does when it hits the fan.

Fear and Loathing
In Free Lisl: Fear And Loathing in Denver, a documentary by director Wayne Ewing, we see how the mainstream media railroaded an ordinary citizen. She was sent to prison for life on the grounds of guilt by association, even though that association was tenuous at best. Curiously, the same media five years later rallies support for Auman and ultimately sets her free. For a country that prides itself on its skepticism, it is surprisingly easy to tell the American public what to believe.
Accelerating Auman's sacrificial bonfire was the fact that a police officer had been killed in the course of events. The cop killer had then fatally turned his gun on himself, and society was thus denied a target for its retribution. The fact that Auman was handcuffed in the back seat of a police car when the killing took place didn't seem to matter. In fact, this raised the interesting legal question of charging someone with a crime committed while they were in police custody. Apparently, that angle was of no interest to the newspapers and TV stations covering the story. Lisl Auman was, by their unsubstantiated declaration, the killer's "girlfriend" and she was guilty of being part of a crime that led up to the killing. Therefore she was as guilty of being a cop killer as if she'd pulled the trigger herself. We have as a cornerstone in our legal system the presumption of innocence until guilt is proven. But something went horribly wrong in the Auman case when she was found guilty in the press and it was left to her defense to prove otherwise.

Had the victim not been a police officer, had the media not been seduced by the chance for a sensational story, and had the DA's office not been so enthusiastic to prosecute (probably egged on by that same sensationalist press coverage), Auman might not have been charged with murder, or to being an accomplice to murder, or perhaps even charged with anything at all.
After serving 5 years in jail, Auman wrote a letter to Hunter Thompson, explaining her case as she saw it, and asking for his help. In the tradtion of Emile Zola and the Dreyfus Affair, Thompson's celebrity allowed him a "J'Accuse! " moment in Vanity Fair. In that piece Thompson's wit and indignation shone as it had back in the day when his personal nemesis Richard Nixon roamed the land. I remember reading it at the time and thinking, "Whoa! The old boy is really fired up about this one." and rightly so.

Media Circus
Why did the system fail Auman so badly? Why did the media go after her with such a vengeance. Ewing postulates that there was anger already in the air over a recent race-based killing committed by skinheads, and that probably had some effect. But I'm drawn back to the old saying "don't attribute to malice, that which can be more easily explained by incompetence." If the TV stations and newspapers had checked their stories first, or if the prosecution hadn't been swayed by public opinion, things would not have worked out as they had. But TV reporters and newspaper writers and district attorneys are also human beings. They are people who are as subject to bad decisions based on passion as anyone else. I offer this as an explanation not an excuse.
Free Lisl comes from a fine tradition of muckraking journalism. Of course, it's muck only if it's something you want buried and forgotten. The Denver TV stations and newspapers don't want anything to compromise their credibility, and the enthusiastic DA is now governor of Colorado. If you cherish what is best about our nation's legal system, it comes as a breath of fresh air. Somehow 'fresh air journalism' just doesn't carry the same kick. Free Lisl deserves a viewing.


Free Lisl!
DVD review by Slarek, DVDOutsider.com

There are any number of good reasons for making a documentary film, but bringing to the public's attention a possible miscarriage of justice, where an individual may be facing a life sentence or worse for crimes they may not have committed is one of the best. The wrongful arrest investigative documentary has as its godfather Errol Morris's mighty and magnificent The Thin Blue Line, a film that was at least partly responsible for freeing Randall Adams from death row, and has a prodigal son in Joe Berlinger and Bruce Sinofsky's 1996 Paradise Lost: The Child Murders at Robin Hood Hills, an extraordinary work that opened an international debate on the guilt or innocence of its young subjects.

At first glance, Free Lisl: Fear & Loathing in Denver is a title that suggests a similar cinematic campaign for justice, but director Wayne Ewing is up front about the fact that his subject, Lisl Auman, has already been freed after serving several years of a life sentence. His prime objective is to highlight an injustice and potential for wilful misinterpretation offered up by an archaic point of law, and to document the campaign that helped bring the case to wider public attention, and specifically the contribution of its most renowned participant.

All of you should know the name of Hunter S. Thompson, and if not then you should stop reading this and immediately research the man and his work. Probably his most famous (some might say notorious) achievement was Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, a brilliant, insane, drug-fuelled diary of his own journalistic adventures in the late 1960s that for many of us was one of the defining works of the modern age. Thompson's reputation as the wild man of journalism has followed him since, with the focus always on the wild, and one of the most pleasing aspects of Ewing's film is the glimpse it provides of the man behind the media image. That he is almost the only key participant for the defence who is not interviewed is due to a tragedy of circumstance, and one that gives Auman's story a sad final twist that her participation in this film is clearly designed to at least partly address.

I realise that by name-checking two of the best films in this particular sub-genre I may be creating unfair expectations for Free Lisl. Auman's case in neither as complex nor riddled with inconsistencies, contradictory testimony, legal tomfoolery and outright prejudice as those of Randall Adams and Damien Echols, although it does have its share of all of these. The really suspect evidence boils down to just two testimonies and one alleged action on Auman's part, and there are no last-minute surprise twists in the tale to drop the jaw. Structured primarily around a campaign rally organised for the day of Auman's appeal hearing and the speeches made in support of her case, this is as much a record of events as an expose of the misdeeds of those in authority.

But it is still a tale worth telling and one that is well told. Rather than presenting the facts in a linear fashion, Ewing introduces us first to his central character, then to the idea that she was unjustly imprisoned, and only later fills in the details of how she landed in jail facing life without parole and why the case against her was called into question. This proves a very effective way of presenting a story whose facts could be effectively covered in about twenty minutes of screen time, adding as it does an element of intrigue and mounting disbelief as the story unfolds. The very reason I have not gone into any detail about Auman's case - all I'll tell you is that she was convicted aged 21 of the murder of a Denver police officer, despite being handcuffed in the back of a police car when the incident occurred - is because to do so would be to rob the film of what effectively amount to its narrative twists, and frankly you'd do better to hear them from the filmmakers than from me. This is likely to be especially true for a UK audience, few of whom will be familiar with the Auman case and the subsequent campaign to free her.

It is inevitable that the film should be sold on the involvement of Hunter S. Thompson, just as his image and name were featured so prominently in the newspaper reports of the campaign rally, and it does serve as a fitting tribute to the author's final battle with the powers that be. But by telling Auman's story Ewing and his team also highlight an aspect of American law that, while perhaps well intentioned, is clearly and worryingly open to misuse, with serious consequences for anyone caught in its blast. The film also hints at deeper concerns, arrestingly summed up by Berkeley professor Timothy Ferris, who suggests that at the present rate of increase America will soon have imprisoned an even higher proportion of its population than either Stalinist Soviet Union or Apartheid South Africa, a statistic that should rattle even the most complacent of viewers.

Free Lisl: Fear and Loathing in Denver makes for involving and eye-opening viewing and is worth hunting out if you have an interest in films that explore the justice system at its shakiest. If I have one complaint it's the presentation of sideways scrolling textual information at the same time as sometimes crucial audio. Maybe it's a sign of my slowing up in the age of information overload, but I more than once had to pause and rewind to read what I'd missed through listening, and just as well, as otherwise I would have missed a key piece of evidence regarding fingerprints (or the lack of them) that helps make a mockery of the prosecution case.

Sound and Vision
Shot on what looks like DigiBeta or equivalent high-band video, the 4:3 transfer has been made from the video original and looks close to pristine, being pin sharp with excellent contrast and faithful colour reproduction. A variety of source material, including news footage and reports and police taped interviews (the latter looking like second generation VHS) are included, and the quality of these is generally as a good as could be expected.

The Dolby 2.0 soundtrack is of similarly impressive quality. The packaging doesn't state whether it's mono or stereo - I couldn't detect any separation but the clarity of the recording is excellent, Warren Devon's open-air performance of 'Lawyers, Guns & Money' sounding almost as if it was recorded and mixed in a studio. The quality inevitably drops off a bit in the source material, but this is appropriate to the material.

Extra Features
Nothing here.

The name of Wayne Ewing may not be well known to UK audiences, but those who know their TV may recognise him as the man who designed the revolutionary photographic style of Homicide: Life on the Streets, for my money the finest cop show ever to hit TV screens anywhere. In recent years he has carved out a niche for himself making documentaries based around the life and activities of Hunter S. Thompson, with titles that include Hunter Goes to Hollywood (2003), Breakfast with Hunter (2003) and When I Die (2005), as well as the investigative political documentaries Benched: The Corporate Takeover of the Judiciary and the Last Campaign (both 2005), none of which, to my knowledge, have been widely seen in the UK. Free Lisl suggests that they deserve to find a wider audience, but tracking them down is a job for the dedicated - I couldn't find Free Lisl on any of the usual on-line retailers, including Amazon, but you can get it directly from Ewing's own site at www.hunterthompsonfilms.com, along with Breakfast With Hunter and When I Die.


When Justice Goes Gonzo
Hunter Thompson's film biographer brings the gonzo journalist's final crusade to this weekend's Vail Film Festival
The Vail Trail, March 28, 2007
by Randy Wyrick

So you're watching Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan fall for each other again, but you're tired of watching him get the girl.

You'd like to change the ending, maybe to something with a car chase or a hang glider off the top of the Empire State Building. Or maybe have less of Tom and more Meg Ryan.

Maybe you can.

Filmmaker Wayne Ewing is working on a project that allows visitors to his Web site to create their own short films with bits and pieces of a documentary he's using to chronicle the 2008 presidential campaign.

The best of the lot will be included in his film, "If Elected 2008 ..."

Populist filmmaking
In 1972, Ewing made first film, "If Elected ..." when he was 24 years old,. It's about a state senate race in West Virginia. He sold it to Bill Moyers, which led to 30 more shows public television shows for Moyers over the years and lots of other work.

His Web-based project, "If Elected 2008 ..." is populist filmmaking at its finest, and it works like this.

Ewing and his crews will cover the 2008 presidential race, the Democrats' road to Denver, the Republicans' road to redemption, and everyone else's roads to nowhere. The rough cuts are posted on the Web site, hunterthompsonfilms.com, along with all kinds of visitor-generated film. You can pull together pieces they like, leave out the pieces you don't. You put together their own documentaries, which are also posted on the Web site, side by side in direct competition.

Visitors vote on them and like videos on YouTube. The winners rise to the top of the standings.

The best visitor-generated pieces will be included in Ewing's full-length documentary on the presidential race, "If Elected 2008 ..."

"It allows people to recut the material and do what they want to," Ewing said.

It's called crowd sourcing and it's one of the directions media is headed. It's growing so popular that the New York Times deigned to do a story on it last week.

A journalism professor is operating a project based on crowd sourcing. Learn about it "All the World's A Story" at newassignment.net.

"If you use enough people you'll come up with something that has more intelligence than if you try to create something in isolation," Ewing said. "'If Elected' was my breakthrough film when I was 24. Maybe this can be some other 24 year old's breakthrough."

Jump and cut
If you've ever watched a police drama, you've seen Ewing's work, or the work of those influenced by him.

The jump cut is his calling card.

The jump cut is a style of shooting and editing that makes films look like rougher documentaries. Most cop shows now have that documentary-like style.

Ewing didn't invent the jump cut any more than Bode Miller invented skiing and drinking. But they both perfected their specialties.

Ewing's "Homicide: Life On the Street" changed the look of television police shows in the 1990s. He adapted the style from Godard, the French filmmaker who introduced it in the film "Breathless" during the 1960s. Free Lisl: The Doctor is in Which brings us to Ewing's film, "Free Lisl: Fear & Loathing in Denver," which makes its Vail premiere at this weekend's Vail Film Festival.

The movie explores the most significant achievement of Dr. Hunter S. Thompson's last years Ð the freeing of Lisl Auman who was sentenced to life without parole at the age of 21. Auman was supposed to have been part of the murder of a Denver police officer. Someone she had just met actually committed the murder while Auman was handcuffed in the back of a police car.

After receiving a letter from Lisl in 2001, Thompson enlisted the support of the nation's top criminal defense lawyers, held a rally on the steps of the Colorado State Capitol, and co-wrote an article for Vanity Fair subtitled "Lynching in Denver" Ð all in an attempt to free Lisl from life in prison.

His efforts helped free Auman, but he didn't live long enough to see it.

In March 2005, two weeks after Thompson committed suicide, the Colorado Supreme Court effectively set her free by reversing her conviction and ordering a retrial. A plea bargain leaves her on parole for many years to come, but Auman is no longer behind bars.

"It was Hunter's last hurrah," Ewing said of the "Free Lisl" film. "I think Hunter knew it was to be one of his final crusades."

Bill Ritter, now Colorado's governor, was prosecuting the case as Denver's district attorney.

"He became like an ape in chains over Hunter's Vanity Fair article," Ewing said. Ritter devoted pages and pages of the DA office's Web site to disputing Thompson's claims.

Ewing quickly became one of Thompson's foot soldiers in the fight to free Lisl.

You don't say "no" when the doctor asks for your help.

Ewing showed up at Thompson's for a Super Bowl party, camera in hand, to shoot for another film he was working on.

The place was packed with some of the most high-powered lawyers in the country Ð defense lawyers, corporate lawyers, every conceivable kind of lawyer.

Thompson was working the room like a politician, charming some, strong-arming others, soliciting all to help free Lisl.

Ewing and others helped coordinate a rally on the steps of the state Capitol, and the tide began to turn at that point, especially in the Denver media, which had been portraying Lisl as the girlfriend of skinhead who killed the police officer.

"The police had been caught changing their story," Ewing said, hence the phrase, lying like a cop on a witness stand. "When we brought that out, the case began to change."

Neighbors and friends
Thompson and Ewing go back to the early 1980s together when they were neighbors in Woody Creek. Ewing chronicled much of Thompson's life.

He worked as Thompson's road manager. His job was to make sure Thompson traveled from Point A to Point B when he was supposed to, rarely an easy task for Ewing, but "a lot of fun."

Ewing was in New Orleans shooting for a film when Thompson killed himself. He had just asked an old woman what she thought about death and filmed her answer. When he returned to his hotel room, the message light on his phone was blinking. The message was direct. Gonzo was gone. Dr. Hunter S. Thompson was dead by his own hand.

Thompson believed in reincarnation and said it had been 1,000 since he hurt anyone who didn't deserve it.

The Doctor also once said we come back as what we deserve, telling a crowd some would come back as a three-legged dog on a Navajo Indian reservation.

Then he paused and said, "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be prejudiced against any Indian reservation."

"He was my best friend for many years. I miss him," Ewing said.


The Aspen Times
John Colson

"...the film about Auman and her ordeal is an important one, illuminating troubling truths about everything from the vindictive nature of cops and prosecutors to the willingness of the news media to help railroad a woman into a prison cell for life for no good reason. It also says a lot about how celebrity can be an effective tool in overturning injustice, which in itself is as troubling as anything else in this tale of terror and vindication."


"Free Lisl" Customer
Mentor, Ohio

What I really like about the documentaries is that they show a human side of Hunter Thompson which is not explored enough in my opinion. He is too often regarded as just being a crazy, drug induced maniac when in fact he was much more intelligent and human than he character that he created. Keep up the good work and thanks for the follow up. It makes me feel good to know I'm buying something from a company who is trying to do something positive rather than just make money.