Flicks

I was very excited about seeing "Public Enemies," the Michael Mann-directed movie version of Bryan Burrough's excellent book about Dillinger, Pretty Boy Floyd and Bonnie and Clyde. 2009 has been a "gangster year" for me. I've ready a good deal on the Depression era bad guys and enjoyed, with my pal Jim Donovits, a visit to the Bonnie and Clyde Ambush Museum in Louisiana.
Well, Bonnie and Clyde are nowhere to be found in this movie and Pretty Boy is in for about one minute, being personally shot down by Melvin Purvis while Dillinger was still at large. Wrong. Purvis didn't shoot Floyd and he died months after Dillinger was killed.
So, one minute into the picture I realized that Burrough's highly-detailed book was little more than a paperweight for the screenwriters who butcher the real history in what is at times a remarkably self-defeating way.
For instance, Purvis is served up as a cardboard G-Man when in fact the real man and his tortured relationship with J. Edgar Hoover, was much more interesting than what the writers came up with.
Depp is fine as Dillinger, if you like two hours of stoney-faced grimness. Where is the charisma? Where is the flamboyance that made Dillinger a hero to many.
The French actress who plays Billie Frechette, Dillinger's main gal, looks the part but has nothing to do. Why does Dillinger love her so much? Why does he allegedly die with her name on his lips? This movie doesn't explain.
Bale's accent is atrocious at times and his character is mostly dull. Purvis was a lot of things, but not dull.
Hoover is seldom seen or heard from, which is a mistake for the film. His lurking presence would have added a lot.
This should have been a great film. But it falls far, far short of that mark.
Mann fails to deliver a single moment that approximates Dillinger's bigger-than-life exploits.
"Public Enemies" is terrible history and even worse, a deadly dull movie.