The real-life story of James “Whitey” Bulger, the South Boston crime boss who acted as a protected FBI informant for years until the arrangement imploded, is one of the most bizarre, once-in-a-lifetime stories you’re likely to hear. Black Mass, directed by Scott Cooper (Crazy Heart, Out of the Furnace) and starring Johnny Depp as the murderous Mr. Bulger, isn’t quite as rarified; Depp acts harder and better than he has in many years, but other than his performance, the film isn’t anything special. Cooper and writers Mark Mallouk and Jez Butterworth use familiar tropes from the mob-movie lexicon to make the story palatable to wide audiences, and in doing so strip the story of all its strangeness.

Aside from that minor tragedy, the film actually works very well. Goodfellas and The Departed are great movies, so the fact that Cooper so blatantly borrows from them isn’t so much offensive as it is uninspired, and at the end of the day, he’s crafted an effective movie. We follow Bulger’s rise from general small-time crime lord to over-powered, FBI-protected kingpin and, eventually, man on the run. Catapulting him from low-level extortion and drug deals to Southie (and beyond) dominance is a deal he strikes with an old childhood friend, John Connolly (Joel Edgerton), who now works for the FBI. As long as Whitey helps the feds take down other, bigger crime organizations, he and his gang will be free to run amok and expand their empire, given he doesn’t kill anyone in doing so (good luck with that). Making things even stickier, his brother, Billy (Benedict Cumberbatch, struggling with an awful Boston accent), is one of the most prominent politicians in the state.

The true-crime story revolves around Bulger and the demons that tormented him and compel him to become the thing he hates most—a snitch, a rat, a sell-out. Arguably the biggest contributing factor is the tragic death of his young son, whose mother (Dakota Johnson) never looks at Bulger the same again. With his family crumbling around him, his humanity begins to twist and melt away until he’s nothing more than a merciless overlord with a thirst for vengeful dominance.

Depp’s performance is gravitational, drawing everything in from us to the other actors. All converges on the blue-eyed, murderous bastard, and Depp more than bears the load with his best on-screen effort in who knows how long. He’s a damn good actor, and god knows we needed a reminder of that. He plays Bulger as a terrifying, calculating, unpredictable killer who always seems one step ahead of everyone, including us. His poker face is impenetrable, and we’re left breathlessly anticipating when he’ll strike next and dispatch of his next victim with his gruesome handiwork. Depp’s make-up walks the line between frightening and distracting, but he more often than not nudges the effect to the side of the former.

Tension rises as Connolly scrambles to protect Bulger and keep the deal intact, weaseling his way out of tight spots (like when Bulger is the prime suspect in a high-profile out-of-state murder) and wiping sweat off of his brow with every close call. Edgerton’s Napoleonic braggadocio is very funny, lending a frantic comedic flavor to an otherwise deathly affair. The rest of the FBI and Southie gang crews are filled out by a stacked line-up of actors, from Kevin Bacon and Corey Stoll as Connolly’s skeptical superiors, to Jesse Plemons, Peter Sarsgaard, and W. Earl Brown as Bulger’s colorful, heavy-fisted underlings.

What threatens to yank us away from the tight grip of Depp’s performance is the material, which is never wholly original and is downright second-rate when it practices mob-movie mimicry. One moment sees Bulger breaking bread with Connolly and one of his FBI partners, John Morris (David Harbour). Bulger asks John to give up the family-secret recipe for the delicious marinade he bathed their steaks in and, in a mild panic, John lets him in on the secret ingredients. The mood turns icy cold when Bulger asks how he could ever trust someone who would divulge a family secret so easily. Nobody’s laughing, and the room is filled with nervous energy. It’s Joe Pesci’s “Do I amuse you?” speech in Goodfellas, but only half as effective. It’s almost as if Cooper felt he needed to outfit Bulger with mob clichés in order for the movie to work. A more idiosyncratic approach may have allowed Depp to reach greater heights.

Is it even possible to whittle down TIFF’s line-up to 15? This year TIFF has 399 shorts and features playing the festival, an insane number that has us asking questions like “Why are there so many movies?” and “Why couldn’t the 400th movie be Carol?” among many others.

Every year at TIFF is an embarrassment of riches, and this year is no different, so we had a tough time narrowing our choices down to what we consider the essentials (even crueler: it’s unlikely we’ll catch all of these at the festival, meaning we’re praying some of these get released soon or get some sort of distribution deal). But we did manage to come up with a list, and it’s a varied one. There are some films we missed at festivals earlier this year, some brand spanking new ones by directors we love, a return from a master of the cinema, and one film from a newbie that looks like it could be one of the most unforgettable experiences of this year’s festival.

Read on to see our picks below, and be sure to keep reading the site for our coverage of the Toronto International Film Festival for the rest of the month.

Anomalisa

Charlie Kaufman. A name that, for those familiar with the man’s work, justifies the length of a paragraph to be all but two words on this list. Kaufman’s screenplays—Being John Malkovich, Adaptation, and Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind–-burst people’s notions of original comedy, with plots, settings, characters, and dialogue that turned the ordinary into the fascinatingly unique. It’s easy to get lost in Kaufman’s eccentricities, but there’s profound stuff underneath his squiggly surface (especially evident with his directorial debut Synecdoche, New York). His latest effort is a stop-motion animation feature, co-directed by Duke Johnson, with Jennifer Jason Leigh, David Thewlis, and Kaufman regular Tom Noonan providing the voice talent, about a misanthrope travelling to Cincinnati to give a keynote speech about his bestselling book on customer service. From the purportedly fantastic look of the film, to the much welcomed return of Kaufman’s sui generis imagination, everything about Anomalisa so far (including early raves from Telluride) fills this film to the gills with promise. [Nik]

Arabian Nights

Miguel Gomes has been popping his head out from the subterranean levels of arthouse since 2008’s Our Beloved Month of August, but it was his sensational and half-silent 2012 film Tabu that wrote him on the proverbial map with permanent ink. Now he’s back with what is his most ambitious effort to date, a sprawling 6-hour epic split into three volumes based on the infamous Middle Eastern and Asian stories, 1001 Nights. Going by the popular English title of the collection, Arabian Nights pushes the boundaries of narrative with its three volumes—titled The Restless One, The Desolate One, The Enchanted One respectively—and sets events in Portugal, elucidating on the country’s socioeconomic issues through allegory and Gomes’ signature vigor for cinematic storytelling. Using a mesh of satire and fantasy, fiction and non-fiction, the film has been hailed as a genuinely stirring cinematic experience in all respects since it premiered in Cannes’ Director’s Fortnight, and we are beyond excited to see it at TIFF. [Nik]

The Assassin

Gestating in development for over ten years, and scaling a mountain of budgetary hurdles all while learning to adjust to the ever-changing climate of film production, Hou Hisao-Hisen’s latest film is finally here. For a film that’s been anticipated this long, directed by a beloved legend of Taiwanese arthouse cinema, the hype for The Assassin was strained with a mix of excitement and slight trepidation before it premiered at Cannes. The film turned out to be a critical hit, and Hou was commemorated with a Best Director prize (many believed it would walk away with the Palme). This wuxia tale follows a trained killer (Shu Qi) who is forced to choose between her heart and her profession when she gets her latest assignment. Yeah, it’s a synopsis bland enough to fit the description of the worst kind of Steven Segal movie, but its plot is not why The Assassin has already been hailed as a masterpiece by many. With a master filmmaker at the helm, the film’s qualities are found in its aesthetics, mood, composition, and a refined kind of slow-burning mystery that seems to cast a spell on all who see it. Yummy. [Nik]

Baskin

After discovering Baskin’s inclusion in the Midnight Madness programme, I contacted director Can Evrenol to get a glimpse at his 2013 short film (which this film is based on). Evrenol was gracious enough to let me see his short, and the moment it ended I knew I had to catch his feature-length adaptation at TIFF. Both the short and the film have the same synopsis: a group of cops responding to a call for backup arrive at an abandoned building that turns out to be the home of some sort of horrifying dark arts ritual. By the time the cops realise they’ve stumbled into some seriously freaky, occult type stuff, all hell literally breaks loose. The short is a brief and twisted slice of fun, and Baskin looks like it’s expanding in all the right ways: gorier, nastier, and with plenty more horrifying surprises in store. Midnight Madness programmer Colin Geddes has gone on record saying that Baskin might rival the legendary premiere of Martyrs at TIFF in 2008, and based on what I’ve seen of Baskin, I’m inclined to believe he might turn out to be right. [C.J.]

Beasts of No Nation

Fresh off the enormous success of True Detective, Cary Fukunaga returns to the big screen with more critical clout than ever before. Beasts of No Nation marks the writer/director’s third feature, and it looks to be a work of greater intensity and visceral impact than either of his previous films. From a Mexican immigration drama (Sin Nombre) to a classic bildungsroman adaptation set in Victorian England (Jane Eyre), Fukunaga now takes us to an unnamed country in Africa where a young boy struck by tragedy is forced to become a child soldier in a ferocious civil war. Fukunaga’s versatility is truly impressive, and with this film carrying the added plus of Idris Elba (in what could potentially be his greatest role yet), I’d say it’s shaping up to be yet another feather in the cap of an exciting and steadily rising filmmaker. [Byron]

Black Mass

Scott Cooper is someone who hasn’t quite broken out yet as a “name director.” Crazy Heart was acknowledged for its performances and music despite being a solid character study with real directorial sensitivity, and while Out of the Furnace proved to be somewhat bland and predictable, it still contained glimmers of a filmmaker with a distinct vision. With his third film, Black Mass, Cooper is tackling something of significant scale. It’s the story of the notorious gangster Whitey Bulger, and the project boasts a killer cast. Johnny Depp arrives in heavy makeup once again, this time in a different context, and he appears to be in rare form, exuding charisma that is terrifyingly deceptive rather than merely quirky. With such a weighty subject, there’s a lot that could go wrong, but hopefully Cooper rises to the occasion and finally takes the spotlight, delivering something more like The Departed than Killing Them Softly. [Byron]

Cemetery of Splendour

Arguably the greatest arthouse filmmaker of the 21st century, Apichatpong Weerasethakul is more beloved than the spelling of his full name is hard to memorize. Every feature he’s directed—most especially Tropical Malady, Syndromes of a Century, and Palme D’Or-winner Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives—has been studied by cinephiles for their hypnotic power and spiritual sensations. His latest is titled Cemetery of Splendor, and if that’s not enticing enough (it should be), its Cannes premiere was met with the kind of plaudits worthy of Weerasethakul’s venerated oeuvre. The film follows a housewife who volunteers at a clinic where she befriends a soldier with a mysterious sleeping sickness and meets a medium who helps family members communicate with their comatose relatives. In typical Weerasethakul fashion, dreams, memory, and romance are weaved together to create a mystical viewing experience. We couldn’t be more ready for this. [Nik]

Evolution

Way back in January of this year, I picked Lucile Hadžihalilović’s Evolution as one of my most anticipated films of 2015. I figured it would premiere at Cannes, given it went into production last year, but Cannes came and went without her film appearing. I forgot about the film (partially to not disappoint myself again), so once it got announced at part of TIFF’s Vanguard programme this year I was ecstatic. Little was known about Evolution back when I first wrote about it, but now there’s a better idea of what to expect. The film centres on a ten-year-old boy living on an island with no adult males, only women and young boys like himself. The boys undergo various medical experiments, and Nicholas decides to investigate what’s going on. Rather than explain why Evolution is on my radar again, I’ll just quote its programmer Colin Geddes who told me it’s “a sublime, body horror, fairy tale mystery.” I don’t think it’s possible to hear a description like that and not get intrigued. [C.J.]

High-Rise

I won’t lie: I’ve been deliberately avoiding learning much about Ben Wheatley’s High-Rise, which is having its world premiere this year in TIFF’s competitive Platform programme. I know it has a killer cast (Tom Hiddleston, Jeremy Irons, Elisabeth Moss and Luke Evans, to name a few). I know it’s an adaptation of a J.G. Ballard novel, it involves different people living in an apartment building, and that Clint Mansell is doing the score. That’s about it. So why am I putting this down as one of my most anticipated titles of TIFF? Because Ben Wheatley is one of the more exciting names in international cinema right now, hopping between genres with ease and delivering films that are truly distinct. This looks like a return to the moodier, intense fare of Kill List along with the chamber piece quality of his terrific debut Down Terrace (which largely took place in a house). High-Rise sounds like a literal expansion for Wheatley compared to his low-budget first feature: a bigger cast, a bigger budget, a bigger location and a bigger scale. Here’s hoping Wheatley makes the most of it. [C.J.]

Mountains May Depart

To be honest, I don’t know much about Mountains May Depart, but what I do know is that Jia Zhangke’s A Touch of Sin was one of the best movies to emerge from 2013. Brutal and depressing in equal measures, the film is an anthology that presented the deeply troubled nature of modern China through powerful allegory. Jia’s follow-up seems to cover similarly ambitious ground, spanning two generations and confronting the effects of a rapidly changing societal landscape. No matter what the story details are, Mountains May Depart is a must-see purely because it places the audience in the secure hands of a great cinematic social commentator. [Byron]

Office

Want to know how much I love Johnnie To? Whenever I see the word “musical” I tend to run in the other direction, yet I’m clearing my TIFF schedule to fit in the musical Office because he’s helming it. The film marks two firsts for To, a director who’s been working for decades with an insanely prolific and consistent output; it’s his first musical, and his first film in 3D. Seeing To tackle new areas only gets me more excited, because he’s shown multiple times that he has no problem adapting any genre to his economic and quick-paced style. Based on the hit play by Sylvia Chang (who also stars in Mountains May Depart), Office sounds like a continuation of To’s recent fixation on the corporate class and the 2008 financial crisis seen in films like Don’t Go Breaking My Heart and Life Without Principle. But this time, To has recruited big names like Chang and Chow Yun-Fat, along with (what sounds like) full-blown song and dance numbers. Early word on Office has been great, and I can’t wait to see what will surely be To’s unique take on the musical. [C.J.]

Sunset Song

Suffused with rich feeling and evocative melancholia, Terence Davies’ movies are like a vintage wine that sentimentality has rendered priceless; only to be uncorked for a momentous occasion. Which is exactly what the world premiere of his latest picture, Sunset Song, already feels like. Coming off the heels of The Deep Blue Sea, probably the most underrated and misunderstood film of its year, Sunset Song is a period piece set in the cinegenic Scottish countryside of the 1930s, and based on a book by Lewis Grassic Gibon that’s been called the most important Scottish novel of the 20th century. Other than a few gorgeous-looking stills, and the announcement of the cast which includes the brilliant Peter Mullan, mum’s been the word on the details behind Davies’ adaptation. But if he sticks close to Gibbon’s story, we’ll be following the hard life of young Chris Guthrie (Agyness Deyn), a woman growing up in a dysfunctional household, on a farm in Scotland. We expect nothing less than the same refined and lyrical cinematic precision we’ve been getting from one of Britain’s most celebrated auteurs. [Nik]

Where to Invade Next?

America’s most divisive filmmaker returns with a new documentary sure to inspire an avalanche of critical blog posts, angry tweets and bitter Fox News segments. It’s been six years since Michael Moore released Capitalism: A Love Story, and little is known about his new project outside of the vague notion that it will concern the United States’ unending condition of being at war in some capacity. I’ve always been fond of Moore’s work, despite the loudness of his mouth and the dubiousness of his specific claims. For sheer entertainment value, his films are about as hilariously satirical as documentaries get, but beneath the unabashed agenda and supposed methods of misdirection lies a sobering reality demanding our immediate attention. For this reason, I can’t wait to see Where to Invade Next? and revel in the controversy it will inevitably stir up. [Byron]

The Witch

If the reactions out of Sundance earlier this year are any indication, The Witch is the latest installment in a recent string of thoughtful indie horror pictures (such as It Follows and The Babadook) vying for “instant classic” status. The film is a period piece—something far too uncommon in the genre these days—and tells the tale of 17^th century New England settlers encountering evil forces in a nearby forest while perhaps confronting their own inner demons as well. I like my horror cinema grim and ambiguous, and the film’s brilliant trailer seems to promise a gloomy tone and ominous atmosphere, along with what might be the most malevolent on-screen goat since Drag Me to Hell (although likely not as humorous). A 2016 release date pretty much guarantees a series of sold-out shows at this year’s fest, so don’t hesitate to check it out if you get the chance. [Byron]

Yakuza Apocalypse

Back in May when Yakuza Apocalypse premiered at Cannes, it sounded like Takashi Miike was back in full-force. But then again, considering his insanely prolific output (I’ve lost track of his films, there are too many), “full-force” seems to be status quo for Miike. The image above should give you an idea of what Yakuza Apocalypse might be like: insane, bonkers, all over the place, nonsensical and yet completely entertaining to watch. The film starts out with a Yakuza boss revealed to be a vampire, and soon the entire town he rules over gets converted into vampires as they try to remove threats to their way of life. And also there’s something about a fighting alien toad, the apocalypse, and whatever else Miike could think of apparently. When it comes to Miike, I don’t ask questions anymore. He’s proven himself to be an amazing director, so when I get the chance to see one of his latest films I’ll go on blind faith. Sometimes his films don’t work out for me, but other times they work spectacularly. Yakuza Apocalypse looks like it’s going to fall more into the “spectacular” category. [C.J.]

Johnny Depp has fallen into a bit of a schtick. Since the debut of Captain Jack Sparrow in 2003, Depp has been seemingly happy to suit up in a heavy disguise, lather on a thick accent, and play the loon—to both diminishing returns and larger paychecks (see: three Pirates films with more on the way, Alice in Wonderland, The Lone Ranger, etc.). And, while it’s hard to not be exhausted by the trope, it might not be so bad if his other roles didn’t seem to be getting so lazy (see specifically: last year’s Mortdecai). After all, we did love the guy at one time.

Today, hope seems to be on the way, in the form of the first trailer for September’s anticipated Black Mass. The true crime film will see Depp put on the heavy makeup of the notorious mob boss Whitey Bulger. Black Mass tells the true story of Bulger, the ultra-violent South Boston mobster, who just happens to have a State Senator for a brother, and who just happens to be a long-time FBI informant.

Scott Cooper sat behind the camera on this one, and after 2013’s bust Out of the Furnace, the hope is that he can return to the form of his excellent debut (Crazy Horse). After all, the cast here is tremendous: Benedict Cumberbatch (as Whitey’s Senator brother), Dakota Johnson, Joel Edgerton, Corey Stoll, and Juno Temple.

Based on the first trailer, and all the talent involved, and considering that when Depp is good, he can be one of the best, things are looking pretty good. Head to Black Mass on September 18th.

Black Mass trailer

In the midst of Movember, there are a number of men doing their best to spread awareness of men’s health issues with their burgeoning bristles. We at Way Too Indie fully support this “mo”vement — especially if it means that we all get to bask in the glory of millions of moustaches walking around us every day for a whole month. Whether you’ve already got an illustrious comb or you’re just straining to sprout something from a few of your follicles, if you are among the bros striving to grow your own facial man stamp, here’s a list of some of the best moustaches in movie history to keep you in the mood to “mo.”

Groucho Marx, Duck Soup

Among the most famous of moustaches, no ‘Best Of’ list would be complete without Groucho Marx’s trademark broomstache. Shaded by two equally substantial eyebrows, Groucho’s (obviously fake) facial hair was the rimshot to his every fast-flowing joke. Indeed, all one has to do is pick up a pair of those trademark fake nose glasses with attached moustache and anyone can be just as funny as he was. Sort of. [Ananda]

Charlie Chaplin, Modern Times

So Hitler’s toothbrush moustache is a shining example of how one person can ruin a fashion trend (and for the record, even the people of his time hated his look calling it rotzbremse or “snot brake”), but anyone who’s anyone knows Charlie Chaplin had it first, and he made it adorable. Swishing his ‘stache like a broom, he swept up audience’s hearts. And never one to pass up on a comedic opportunity, he went on to parody Hitler in The Great Dictator shortly after. [Ananda]

Frederick Loren, House on Haunted Hill

Because it’s the classiest of classic moves to have at the heart of a haunted house flick a mustachioed and sinister host. Vincent Price combines his wonderful lip crown with a pair of incredibly expressive eyebrows to deliver this most delightful performance. It almost makes you giddy. Yes, even you. [Scarlet]

Rhett Butler, Gone With the Wind

You might have thought it was his sparkling eyes or his darling dimple. But, no, it was most obviously that clever little moustache that kept Scarlett hanging on. Maybe Clark Gable didn’t give a damn, but you wouldn’t think so with how much time and devotion he would need to have taken every morning to keep that well groomed look of his so, well, groomed. [Scarlet]

Sentenza, The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

Ah, Angel Eyes. Nothing like a good twirly, villainous mustache to bring them out, too. Lee Van Cleef was proud of those beady eyes, his main moneymaker. But what better accessory to pair them with than this wonderful example of a mighty moustache? [Scarlet]

Don Vito Corleone, The Godfather 

Marlon Brando is proof positive that there is no need for a dude to be able to nurture a full fledged Yosemite Sam ‘stache in order to illicit the fear of god into those he may need to intimidate. For a good cause of course. Or, at least, family. [Scarlet]

Bandit, Smokey and the Bandit

There are few faces in this world that look downright wrong without their trademark manhandle, and Burt Reynolds is among those people. The Bandit’s smile wouldn’t seem so pearlescent without the accent of a big dark ‘stache. What happens when Burt tries to shave? Deliverance. Enough said. [Ananda]

Peter Mitchell, Three Men and A Baby

Yeah, they were all pretty manly, but there’s a reason Tom Selleck was the Alpha Male of this trio. That facial badge of his just gives him straight up authority among men and they all knew it. Even the baby. [Scarlet]

Hook, Hook

It’s hard to say which is more impressive about Dustin Hoffman’s thin and well-waxed moustache in Hook, the precise way it contrasts under his huge nose or the amazing ability Hoffman had to make it move like its own limb. Never in a movie has a close up on a ticking moustache been so sinister. We’re still getting chills. Good form, old man, good form. [Ananda]

Wyatt and Virgil Earp, Tombstone

Virgil’s moustache is definitely the huskier of the two, but it’s Kurt Russell’s clear blue eyes that would make anyone swoon. And making them pop with that glorious face trophy? It doesn’t help that it’s a perfect replica of something that actually existed in history. #heartbreaker [Scarlet]

The Stranger, The Big Lebowski

As the seminal narrator of The Big Lebowski, Sam Elliott gets very little actual screen time in the film as The Stranger. Which is why it’s even more impressive he made our list. His wisdom for The Dude is added very real depth by the measure of the walrus whiskers accenting his words. The grayness of it has the Gandalf effect of adding poise, even as he mutters such things as “the Dude abides” and “got any more of that good sarsaparilla?” [Ananda]

Bill “The Butcher” Cutting, Gangs of New York

There are villains, and then there are villains with truly impressive facial hair. Daniel Day-Lewis as Bill the Butcher was intimidating enough with his butcher knife and plaid pants, but he took it entirely next level by achieving that most rare of moustaches, what I call the full-bodied rounded point. Like a handlebar, but this version holds on to you. [Ananda]

Borat, Borat

While I would never really suggest anyone sitting through this movie, even for awareness’ sake, there is definitely something to be said for Sacha Baron Cohen’s heavy hitter of man-glory. This was a crowning achievement. How many words can I come up with for moustache? [Scarlet]

Jack, The Darjeeling Unlimited 

When it comes to hitting the facial follicle gene jackpot, Jason Schwartzman had all the right numbers. Jewish Italian pretty much guarantees him the ability to grow whatever kind of facial cover-up he desires. He may play the shortest and youngest of the three brothers, but his distinctive lip luggage gave him all the gravitas he needed.  [Ananda]

Walt Disney, Saving Mr. Banks

When it comes to thinner moustaches it’s (literally) a fine line between your John Waters pencil mark moustache, a pubescent boy’s first attempts at peach fuzz, and the charming subtlety of Walt Disney’s well-spaced bristle. But Tom Hanks definitely pulls it off (I mean, it’s Tom Hanks, he could probably pull off the toothbrush Hitler-look with his overabundance of radiating goodness). Maybe his magic came from the ‘stache? [Ananda]

Theodore, Her

We’re willing to give Joaquin Phoenix some credit and say that his piercing but sad eyes are what made his character so sympathizable in Her, but that common dude brostache added even more of a touch of the everyman. It’s only a shame the virtual Samantha never got to appreciate the comfort some solid lipholstery can bring.  [Ananda]

Charles Mortdecai, Mortdecai

And, coming in 2015, we will finally see Johnny Depp sporting the moustache he deserves.  As a redhead (can I say ginger?) no less.  But that’s your motivation for next year.  Stay strong, my friends. [Scarlet]

Want to contribute to the cause, or grow a ‘stache to support men’s health? Get involved and find details at the Movember website.

For No Good Reason (2012), released by Sony Pictures Classics, is a unique documentary on the life and work of Gonzo artist Ralph Steadman. Framed as an extended interview conducted by Johnny Depp, the film features an impressive roster of appearances beyond its two headliners, including Terry Gilliam, Hal Willner, and Richard E. Grant (not to mention some interesting footage of Hunter S. Thompson and William S. Burroughs). The film moves back and forth between Steadman’s personal history, the writers and artists who influenced and collaborated with him, along with his style and technique. As a person with only a passing knowledge of Gonzo journalism, I found the film more interesting for it’s portrayal of life from the sixties into the eighties, discussing the political and social revolutions (and subsequent disillusion) of an entire generation. From Civil Rights and women’s empowerment into the decadence of the following decades, Steadman’s work documents an important time in American and western history. The film does a decent job linking Steadman with the other great writers and artists of the era– as Terry Gilliam said during an interview concerning their generation, they are part of a generation that fought hard for change, and despite their failures plan on fighting till the very end. The film was certainly educational, and for those interested in the radical experiments of the sixties and seventies, may very well be inspirational as well. Indeed, thinking of Steadman’s embrace of the grotesque in his art, highlighting the humor, irony, and horror of daily life, makes for a very powerful lesson. Yet despite it’s self-conscious striving for some deeper understanding of art, beauty, society, etc., in many ways we learn little about Ralph Steadman. The film offers only a passing view of Steadman as a person, something more akin to a guided Disney tour than a thorough investigation of his life. Johnny Depp’s deep involvement with the project, from it’s dramatic stylization, to the grating “Tim-Burtonesque” soundtrack, is undeniable, and ultimately for the worse. The obvious hero worship and romanticization of Steadman and Hunter S. Thompson’s drinking/drug life, paired with the film’s ridiculously high production value, all makes for a stylized and manicured take on the lives of these artists.

While the film nails home the importance of Steadman’s work (which indeed it should), the contradictions, hypocrisies and inconsistencies of his life ultimately remain hidden from us. For No Good Reason also features an insistent undercurrent that asserts Steadman’s equality with (if not preeminence over) Hunter S. Thompson in crafting Gonzo journalism. In between the copious discussions of their rowdy collaborations, the film slips in a claim that Steadman was the “braver” and more forward thinking artist in the creative duo. Yet in its insistence, the documentary becomes too eager to make its point, nearly manic to assert Steadman’s value as a creator. There is a brief moment in the film where we watch a recorded conversation between Steadman and Thompson, where the artist states that his illustrations were at least partially responsible for the success of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. Expecting Thompson to acknowledge his contribution, Steadman only received derisive laughter in reply– apparently, little recognition was offered.

This aspect of Mr. Steadman’s life and work, those deep-seated insecurities the film unwittingly brings to the surface, are neither broached nor alluded to. What Mr. Steadman thinks or feels about Thompson’s work, or the fact that his long-time collaborator is better known and receives greater acknowledgement, is never addressed. The questions are all soft-balled, the answers charming, and we all go home happy– this wouldn’t be a problem though, except for the documentary having explicitly stated it would try to create a multisided view of Mr. Steadman’s life.

The less savory side of Mr. Steadman (from his apparent capitalist drive in selling signed prints of his work, to his jealousy over his former partner,) was largely varnished over. What darkness remains is either written off as “acting out of necessity” or portrayed in some manner of victimization. Ultimately, For No Good Reason appears as another example of what’s become Mr. Depp’s “signature” style– dark, affected, and elaborately quirky. Yet putting these mannerisms aside, the film does afford viewers an interesting perspective on an important era in our history, the decent look at the life and work of an important artist, and a really great home-movie of William S. Burroughs, emptying a .38 caliber handgun into Shakespeare’s neck. For those interested in Gonzo, the Beatniks, or the freewheeling, august beauty of Latter-Day Hippiedom, this film is worth it.