Gonzo is a fitting tribute to a cultural icon beloved by many – a love letter of sorts. But I’m disappointed at the missed opportunity to learn more or at least something different than the usual stories. Thomson’s legacy is one of legends, urban myths and rollicking anecdotes, many of which he explicitly depicted in his writings. Gibney’s true task should have been an unmasking: who stood behind Raoul Duke? Who was Thompson before Hell’s Angels and who was he from the 1980s until his death? I find it ironic that a film about a man who unabashedly told the truth as he saw it – with some choice embellishments to be sure – doesn’t do the same. Okay, not “the truth” but the subjective, twisted, and crude raw truth. That’s what I expected and the lack of it is particularly surprising coming from the filmmaker responsible for the fantastic and highly revealing Enron: The Smartest Guys in the Room. Gonzo is a well made film, but I’d have given it another star and a half for a little less of Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail and a little more of Thompson the man.