Public Enemies: A Criminal Case of Celebrity Worship

Could an actor other than Johnny Depp have played John Dillinger in Michael Mann’s 2009 film Public Enemies? Possibly, though I’m not sure who could have embodied the role so completely. Leonardo DiCaprio? Maybe, though DiCaprio doesn’t walk with Depp’s swagger. Russell Crow might have been able to fill the role when he was younger, but he’s not the romantic lead he used to be. A young Tom Cruise would have been perfect.

Dillinger was a thief, but more importantly, Dillinger was a celebrity. During the Great Depression, John Dillinger and his cronies waltzed their way through banks and prisons and onto the front pages of American newspapers. At a time when most Americans hardly had any money to put in a bank, Dillinger took what belonged “to the bank,” the ones to blame for the economic turmoil, and left what belonged “to the people.” He was Robin Hood, though without a moral compass like Friar Tuck at his side.

His exploits were, and still are, legendary. He broke out of almost as many prisons as he was incarcerated in. He mugged for the news cameras with his arm thrown jovially over his captors. In the film, he even strolls into the headquarters of the very division of the FBI charged with bringing him down. Dillinger is an epic figure.

His opposition is just as epic. J. Edgar Hoover and Melvin Purvis were big names at the inception of the FBI. Hoover, of course, continued to be an important figure in U.S. law enforcement. Hoover and Purvis were showy, media-friendly, and as resolute about capturing Dillinger as he was about staying free. Hoover and Purvis are legends in their own right.

Public Enemies gives its audience the legends, but it gives the legends stripped of all the romanticism usually endemic of such gangster tales. Here, Dillinger is daring and magnetic, but he is also arrogant and selfish. Hoover (Billy Crudup) is forward-thinking and vain-glorious. Purvis (Christian Bale) is determined and heartless. Dillinger’s girl Billie Frechette (Marion Cotillard) is noble and needy.

Mann has crafted a starkly realistic film. His use of high contrast, digital cameras highlights this realism to the nth degree. Public Enemies almost feels like a documentary, as if Mann traveled back through time and filmed Dillinger’s downfall. Scenes are also shot in the locations where they actually happened. Elements of the Dillinger myth have been removed (The Judas-like “Woman in the Red Dress” wasn’t really wearing a red dress. She was wearing an orange skirt.). Actual conversations from recorded courtroom proceedings have been mimicked.

Public Enemies presents the audience with both the myth and the myth deconstructed. “Here are your celebrities,” the film says, “And here are your celebrities removed from the silvery darkness of the theater and thrust into the penetrating light of day. What will you make of them?”

Public Enemies forces us to deal with our own propensities toward hero worship. The film beckons us to wrestle with the esteem we give to famous and infamous figures. It fashions our golden calves and then asks us if the metal is as shiny and if the prostrations are as satisfying as we imagined them to be.

Depp is so convincing in the role of Dillinger because of his celebrity. Does any other actor have the same esteem as Johnny Depp? Is anyone else as romantic and as brash? Is any other figure as lauded for his prowess on the screen while still maintaining his “bad boy” image? Swoon if you must over Depp’s smile (I’ll swoon over Marion Cotillard’s.), but realize that you are swooning over an image. Beneath the bravado is a man with faults and foibles like any other.

Depp and Dillinger’s celebrity isn’t their fault. They are not the “public enemies” we need to worry about. Our enemy isn’t flesh and blood or film strip and light. Our enemy is our own propensity to worship someone other than Christ.

(Public Enemies is rated R for gangster violence and some language. The gun shots and gun shot wounds are as realistic as the rest of the film. After watching this film, I don’t think I ever want anyone to fire a gun ever again.)

-- Elijah Davidson