Review: ‘Hunter S. Thompson Musical’ at Signature Theatre is a gonzo high

With a sharp, witty, and laugh-out-loud hilarious book, this veritable hit parade tracks the pioneer journalist’s iconoclastic career.

By D.R. Lewis
June 19, 2025

This review originally appeared in DC Theater Arts.

How does one make a jukebox musical about an artist who never released a lick of music?

You might ask Joe Iconis and Gregory S. Moss, who have done it with The Untitled Unauthorized Hunter S. Thompson Musical, a veritable hit parade of the Gonzo journalism pioneer’s career that opts for a treatment traditionally reserved for softer, if not smaller, personalities. Regarded as much for the drug-fueled nature of his writing as for the stylistic (and factual) lines it often blurred, the Thompson of their imagination all but gives them permission to do so: “After all this time, writing is still my favorite drug. It was my music.”

With a terrific Eric William Morris in the driver’s seat and bucket hat, audiences puff on Thompson’s stuff — through Kentucky, Aspen, Las Vegas, the depths of despair — for nearly three hours at Arlington’s Signature Theatre, in a journey of the singular iconoclast’s lifetime highs (smoked and snorted) and lows (fear and loathing among them, of course).

That format might be well and good for musical icons like Cher, Carole King, and Tina Turner, who can tether their biographies to familiar musical touchstones. But managing Thompson’s fractured reputation and filling in the gaps is more challenging here. Those old enough to remember George McGovern’s 1972 bid to unseat President Richard Nixon (fodder for a jaunty homoerotic tune) may fondly recall Hell’s Angels: The Strange and Terrible Saga of the Outlaw Motorcycle Gangs, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, and Thompson’s beloved backlist. Some middle-aged hangers-on may even feel affinity for their derivatives, like the 1998 Fear and Loathing film with Johnny Depp. But two decades after his death, and half a century or more since those original works were released, Zoomers and their ilk are probably more familiar with the clothes than the prose: the bucket hat, sunglasses, and tropical shirt.

In a way, that could make Thompson an ideal subject: a countercultural character conducive to big, re-interpretive swings. But the Untitled Unauthorized Hunter S. Thompson Musical suffers from an identity crisis. The real coup is not that the creatives have managed to spin a satisfying yarn of the man’s life (though they have), but rather that in making something so enjoyable, they’ve taken off a lot of the edge (and not with a margarita, as he was wont to do). Nostalgia for subversion is still nostalgia, after all.

Sure, there’s plenty of drugs, swearing, and swiping at our sacred cultural cows — assuming those things are still considered subversive — but for every few steps we take in conjuring Thompson, we find ourselves slipping back on a slick skid of sugary-sweet idolatry. Maybe one man’s patina is another’s rust (Hair comes to mind), but in a program note, Iconis makes no bones about his affection for Thompson. Iconis and Moss do their due diligence in acknowledging the challenges with Thompson’s political and personal legacies, including his penchant for firearms and womanizing habits, as well as his 2005 death by suicide. But a looming sense of responsibility to protect the hero and overemphasize his relevance in the current milieu weighs on something seemingly wishing to break free.

Their heavy-handedness — most notably seen in a first act closer (“Wavesong”) that, while musically satisfying and politically noble, lands as a litany of buzzwords — overpowers the Thompson we’ve come to know. Writing is hard, as the character admits when his output drops precipitously in the second half of his life. But with no major Thompson material to ground that stretch of story (as opposed to thrilling earlier scenes and songs rooted in dispatches from San Francisco and the Kentucky Derby), they lean into fetishizing the trope of the tortured artist and tip into twee indulgence.

So why is it all so fun, then?

Despite those challenges, Iconis and Moss have produced a sharp, witty, and laugh-out-loud hilarious book. Further, their dialogue is imbued with a rhythm that can be found in the most compelling journalistic writing. And their choice to center Nixon (George Abud, exquisite) as primary antagonist and foil in the vein of the Muppets’ Waldorf and Statler (not Gonzo!) is a stroke of brilliance. Needling Thompson throughout the show, and almost fueled by the public revulsion for him (sound familiar?), the character does much to keep rose-colored idolatry at bay.

Thompson’s mother, Virginia (Lorinda Lisitza, perfectly cast), also gives us a peek at the cloth from which Thompson was cut, and has one of the night’s best songs, a lullaby about the invincible privilege of “Rich Kids,” one of which Thompson is not. That song, as well as Nixon’s musicalized visions of his ideal America, are just a sampling of Iconis’ terrific, hefty, original score (kudos to music supervisor Rick Edinger and sound designer Justin Stasiw for their great work, too). Skillfully integrated with the book, stylistically distinct, and consistently funny, Iconis gives director Christopher Ashley plenty to work with, and Ashley goes to town on Wilson Chin’s delightfully dizzying set, inspired by Thompson’s real office.

With choreographer Jon Rua, Ashley gussies up the staging with several beautiful, trippy puppets designed by Animal Cracker Conspiracy, including a peacock, a dog, and a political animal that is best not to spoil here. Toni-Leslie James’ colorful costumes evoke the period and feel right at home before the towering wall of mementos.

And like the characters from his books and stories, the ensemble around Morris brings Thompson’s pen-and-paper world to the third dimension. As they float in and out of the room — as Oscar Zeta Acosta (George Salazar), as Ernest Hemingway (Jason SweetTooth Williams), as McGovern (Ryan Vona), as his unappreciated wife, Sandy (Tatiana Wechsler), and many others — their ebullience explodes past the footlights.

All the elements of a good strain are certainly there, leaving one to wonder what the next chapter holds for The Untitled Unauthorized Hunter S. Thompson Musical. Maybe one more (puff, puff) pass is all it needs.

Running Time: Approximately two hours and 45 minutes, with one intermission.

The Untitled Unauthorized Hunter S. Thompson Musical plays through July 13, 2025, in the Max Theatre at Signature Theatre, 4200 Campbell Avenue, Arlington, VA. Tickets start at $47 and are available by phone at (703) 820-9771, online, or through TodayTix. Information about ticket discounts is available here.

The program for The Untitled Unauthorized Hunter S. Thompson Musical is online here.

Eric William Morris (Hunter S. Thompson) and Giovanny Diaz De Leon (The Kid) with George Salazar, Darlesia Cearcy, Meghan McLeod, Lorinda Lisitza, Ryan Vona, Tatiana Wechsler, and Jason SweetTooth Williams in ‘The Untitled Unauthorized Hunter S. Thompson Musical’ at Signature Theatre. Photo by Christopher Mueller.