Public Enemies Movie

Hollywood is full of filmmakers who are uncompromising perfectionists, but only Michael Mann could boast that he not only has a favorite room to screen his films -- the Zanuck theater on the Fox lot -- but also a favorite row in the theater where he thinks you should park your fanny for the optimal viewing experience.

It takes a lot to jolt a 21st century moviegoer into a new way of seeing -- which is reason enough to applaud Michael Mann's strange, imperfect "Public Enemies," a period piece disorientingly told in the cinematic present tense. Mann's account of the brief, blazing career of the Depression-era bank robber and folk hero John Dillinger draws on a doorstop of a book (of the same title) by Bryan Burrough about two early-'30s developments: the celebrity-outlaw crime wave (led by Dillinger, Bonnie and Clyde, Baby Face Nelson and others)

When I spent an afternoon talking with Michael Mann about "Public Enemies" last month, I asked him, half-jokingly, if he had a technical advisor that helped him with the details of John Dillinger's bank robberies. Mann is a famously intense stickler for detail. When he shot "Ali," for example, he filmed the scenes of the young champion at home at the boxer's actual house in Miami.

When I spent an afternoon talking with Michael Mann about "Public Enemies" last month, I asked him, half-jokingly, if he had a technical advisor that helped him with the details of John Dillinger's bank robberies. Mann is a famously intense stickler for detail. When he shot "Ali," for example, he filmed the scenes of the young champion at home at the boxer's actual house in Miami.

It takes a lot to jolt a 21st century moviegoer into a new way of seeing -- which is reason enough to applaud Michael Mann's strange, imperfect "Public Enemies," a period piece disorientingly told in the cinematic present tense. Mann's account of the brief, blazing career of the Depression-era bank robber and folk hero John Dillinger draws on a doorstop of a book (of the same title) by Bryan Burrough about two early-'30s developments: the celebrity-outlaw crime wave (led by Dillinger, Bonnie and Clyde, Baby Face Nelson and others)

It must have been hard for most folks (with the exception of FBI agents) not to take a shine to the gentlemanly John Dillinger. His chosen career was one that -- during the Great Depression -- seemed almost noble: He robbed banks. "We don't want your money, mister, just the banks'," he is said to have told a terrified customer during one stickup. While fleeing from another heist, he stopped the getaway car to drop off one of his hostages outside her home.

Hollywood is full of filmmakers who are uncompromising perfectionists, but only Michael Mann could boast that he not only has a favorite room to screen his films -- the Zanuck theater on the Fox lot -- but also a favorite row in the theater where he thinks you should park your fanny for the optimal viewing experience.