In these recent times of pandemic and war, and therefore also of a strong economic crisis, the rhetoric of the American dream could seem somewhat tired. Despite the period of relative quiescence, it is worth remembering that for a long time it prevailed unchallenged both at home and abroad. In particular, during the Cold War the countries under U.S. aegis they paid for the fodder of the Marshall plan with the subservience to cultural diktats from overseas. The result? A global intoxication whose after-effects are slow to fade, while a state of normalized hallucination persists, where the "dream" is inextricably linked to reality, confusing itself with it. Therefore, if, as I believe, the entire film is a great allegory of the American dream and its aftermath of illusions and unfulfilled promises, then it could not be other than what it is: a full-screen hangover. Film language uncompromisingly marries the lysergic logic of the object it represents. Thus the camera moves frantically and takes on the most unlikely and unconventional angles, at the same time we find very short shots and sequence shots. The aim is to disorientate the viewer like the kilometre-long supermarket shelves do, full of shiny packages that seem to attack us, and the aim is perfectly successful. Once the ephemeral glitter of the packaging has vanished, we remain disappointed by the content, that is, by a reality incapable of keeping such glittering promises. For a moment, perhaps, we feel like slaves to appearance and the sense of emptiness overcomes us, but this is where we are ready again, ready for another dose. Paradoxically, this rollercoaster life that hurls us relentlessly from one experience to another is preparatory to stasis, to the maintenance of the social order that rhymes with status quo: the hotel receptionist knows well the absurdity of the rules that follows and which he himself opposed, yet he applies them slavishly. Finally, it should be added that if the performances of the Depp-Del Toro duo are convincing, the same cannot be said of some rather long-winded scenes, in which there is the suspicion that the director is basking in his find them bizarre, including them even to the detriment of the fluidity of the story. On the other hand, Gilliam is like that, volcanic and not inclined to compromise, take it or leave it. I take it: Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas remains an extremely original film of great artistic creativity.