Not exactly 'number one' in the Mann back-catalogue, but Public Enemies is a roaring and pulsating return to form which will certainly suffice.

Rating: 7/10 (28 July 2010)

This surely must be the proof that Michael Mann can now make these sorts of films in his sleep. Public Enemies is an interesting retreading of old ground, a thriller focusing in on the criminals whom run the show and the police officers charged with taking them down; you don't need me to tell you which of Mann's films this most sounds like. I think a degree of getting back on track accompanies Public Enemies, much like Tarantino's film from that same summer of 2009, Public Enemies is a going back to basics for a man whose last film was flat-out woeful: a deprived and stupefying exercise named Miami Vice. If Inglourious Basterds was an acknowledgment of the tried, tested and failed experiment that was Death Proof; and began with a sequence involving a Nazi officer and a scared French farmer somewhat reminiscent of Samuel L. Jackson's Jules and his badgering and interrogating an apartment room full of kids as he senses what he wants is nearby, then it was Tarantino as a whole going back to what he is most known and liked for in Pulp Fiction an re-jigging the material to win us over again. Here, Mann revisits the same sort of material he's best known and liked for, in 1995's Heat, only he delivers Public Enemies with a slight re-jigging in that it's a retelling of the plight of real-life gangster out of the 1930s: John Dillinger.
There is no Pacino chasing De Niro around modern day L.A. here; instead, the still rather ample replacements of Johnny Depp's Dillinger and cohorts running amok in a number of locations, predominantly Chicago, and Christian Bale's Bureau of Investigation agent named Melvin Purvis, an additionally true-to-life character, after him. Mann's toying with the material is an entertaining and substantial enough yarn, the men here apparently connected not by way of the fact they know not how to do anything else nor their link in that they struggle domestically with their lives and friends around them; there is no coffee house scene to highlight the similarities both men share as they occupy different sides of the coin, but there is a sequence when Dillinger and Purvis stand opposite one another whilst Dillinger is incarcerated. What follows is an exchange that sees both men forced into recognising they share the same experiences with death, specifically the deaths of friends and co-workers, and thus are somehow intrinsically linked. It'll sound loose and flimsy, but then few will say it's a better film than Heat anyway.
Dillinger's superiority when compared to other criminals is established in the opening sequence, a scene that sees a number of jailed prisoners out in the courtyard shuffling forward whilst chained together in drab, striped prison uniforms. Cut to Dillinger, by himself, and being escorted into the prison whilst decked out in a smart black suit and hat. That small sense of hierarchy is complete when it's revealed he's there to aid in instigating a breakout. Meanwhile, Purvis is on the run after gangster Pretty Boy Floyd through some woodland; Purvis' men outnumber him but Floyd's automatic weaponry dwarfs Purvis' bolt action rifle: the catch being Purvis is a crack-shot, and we soon find out that he is. The link between the establishing of both men is chase, Dillinger's dominating of the guards as he lays siege to their watch tower outside the jail in getting away with most of the men standing in contrast to Purvis' chasing and apprehending of Floyd; Dillinger's dominance of his pursuers and Purvis' clinical efficiency of his apprehension of those fleeing neatly teeing up the later match between the two.
It is indeed after these pleasantries the film becomes the game of oneupmanship you'd expect, a cat and mouse thriller in which both sides suffer losses, lick wounds and revel in glories. Like Heat, the principal thief character in Dillinger is given a somewhat spur of the moment love interest; someone he promptly sleeps with, falls for and promises to ship on out of the country with in due time. Here, rather than De Niro promise Amy Brenneman's Eady tales of New Zealand, we have French actress Marion Cotillard's character Billie Frechette coming into contact with Dillinger and tales of far off nations plus the good life. Billie's character arc is given due attention, the sorts of dangers that face her becoming slow realities after a handful of incidences and the stark realisation of which side of the fence she's on becoming gut-wrenchingly apparent when a police station beating occurs. In a film about a feud-come-relationship between two men, it's pleasant that Dillinger's bonding with Billie doesn't detract too much.
The film is punctuated with an array of shoot outs and heists, heists often turning into shootouts; the centrepiece of which is a woodland area shootout perhaps comparable to that grandeur post-bank robbery shootout which spilt out into the street and beyond found in Heat. Supporting characters on either side are not given us much attention here, but at a small cost; with an interesting sequence unfolding later on, in the camera lingering on Purvis' pained face as a captured and injured gangster in serious need of some anaesthetic lies next door being interrogated – these are sadistic and cruel methods being administered in sadistic and cruel times of crime by the enforcers of the law themselves. Does Purvis seem minutely allured by it all? A small taste of what Dillinger himself inflicts, either physically or by reputation, on people all the time? It'll remind you of Barbara Stanwyck's perverse expression-come-smile in Double Indeminity, as her crippled husband is strangled next to her; it's the feeling of being this close to off key, off colour tactics for the first time to garner what you really want, and it comes out perfectly in the slightest of facial expressions. Mann is back on track after a temporary blip, and here he and his team have crafted a fine thriller.