If Terry Gilliam’s insanely entertaining “Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas” were complemented with a fluid, coherent narrative it would look something like Bruce Robinson’s equally affecting “The Rum Diary.” Based on the writings of late novelist Hunter S. Thompson, “Diary” is a sparkling mixture of exotic locales, dark humor and the diverse charms of actor Johnny Depp.

Those seeking a bizarre and twisted yet ultimately transporting diversion will soak up this film like a tropical cocktail.

Depp plays Paul Kemp, a naive, boozy American novelist-turned-journalist who escapes to Puerto Rico in 1960 to write for a seedy local newspaper in hopes of making a name for himself as a writer. Paul’s starry-eyed ambitions are ruined by his cynical editor-in-chief, Lotterman (Richard Jenkins), who assigns him to a series of unorthodox recreational activities (i.e. cockfighting, underground bowling tournaments, etc.).

Dissatisfied with the duties of his monotonous profession, Paul confides in the paper’s veteran photographer Sala (Michael Rispoli), a careless hothead who subjects Paul to one hilariously life-threatening misadventure after another. Romance also comes in the form of a sultry, blond beauty named Chenualt (Amber Heard).

Without reasoning, Chenault invites him into her lavish, wealthy lifestyle financed by her shady, oblivious businessman fiancé Sanderson (Aaron Eckhart), who presents Paul with an alluring proposition: If Paul promises to write favorably about Sanderson’s latest property scheme to turn Puerto Rico into a lucrative vacation sight for the wealthy, he will ensure him a rich life. Paul’s allegiances shift between his heart and his conscience.

Robinson loosely adapts Thompson’s rum-soaked novel, combining elements of comic fantasy with gritty realism. This approach spoils the film’s chance of resonating on an emotional level, occasionally meandering on nonsensical tangents. Still, “Diary” is a bubbly concoction that goes down easily.

Laron Chapman is a film and media studies senior.