All Rise...

Judge P.S. Colbert is a card-carrying B-movie man.

Editor's Note

Our review of Dillinger, published July 29th, 2005, is also available.

The Charge

Public enemy number one.

The Case

His young buddies dreamed of being firemen, farmers or policemen, but not John Dillinger (Warren Oates, Drum). Even as a child, all young Dillinger aspired to was stealing other people's money—or so he tells his half-breed girlfriend, Billie Frechette (Michelle Phillips, Valentino). While it's entirely possible that such a conversation actually took place between these real-life lovers, even the most amateur historian will soon discover that the relationship between factual information and Dillinger is tenuous and antagonistic at best.

For his directorial debut, famed screenwriter John Milius (Apocalypse Now) wreaks havoc on the historical record and paints the screen blood red. After all, who worries about accuracy and verisimilitude but pimply book worms and politically correct wimps? Bring on the profanity-laced bullet fest!

Gleefully liberated from factual obligation, Milius' script assembles an all-star rogue's gallery, including Pretty Boy Floyd (Steve Kanaly, Dallas), Baby Face Nelson (Richard Dreyfuss, Another Stakeout), Homer Van Meter (Harry Dean Stanton, Christine) and Harry Pierpont (Geoffrey Lewis, I, The Jury). According to legend (this legend, anyways), though armed and dangerous, these seem like nice enough guys once you get to know them.

All right, so Nelson turns out to be a yappy, selfish little punk, but you've got to figure that when a fella's taken the trouble to establish himself as an infamous gangster by age twenty-five, he's got a right to be sore about still being called "baby face," like some lacy-pants kid.

Though Kanaly, Stanton and Lewis manage to imbue their characters with a certain degree of sympathetic charm, it's refreshing to see that there are no heroes here.

In fact, the biggest villain of all is none other than celebrated FBI agent Melvin Purvis (Ben Johnson, Breakheart Pass). Terse and almost robotic in his progression, the proverbial "guy in the white hat" makes no bones about his motivations being more personal than professional (that he's able to carry out his bloody vendettas while going by the book is just one of those happy coincidences). These hoodlums shot down his friends and colleagues in cold blood and he's determined to even the score, going so far as to smoke a victory cigar over each of their battered corpses.

Johnson plays the G-man without a scintilla of humor, irony or self-reflection; sizing up each situation with cold, almost reptilian eyes. He looks and sounds much the same as he did in The Last Picture Show (which netted him a Best Supporting Actor Oscar one year earlier), but he's otherwise miles away from playing Sam the Lion, that film's moral center. All things being equal, this is G-man's story to tell—indeed, he even serves as narrator—but you can hardly blame the studio execs for worrying about the commercial prospects an actioner called Purvis, can you?

Warren Oates bore a striking resemblance to Dillinger, but his enigmatic performance doesn't take into account the robbing hood's storied ability to make women—including those he held at gunpoint—swoon. In fact, a couple of establishing scenes have him physically abusing Frechette, which contradicts her real-life testimony about him always treating her like a lady.

I'm always up for more Warren Oates in a motion picture, and he's fascinating to watch, as always, but here it seems like he was robbed of the chance to deliver as a leading man. Fortunately, that situation would be rectified one year later, with his starring role in Sam Peckinpah's brilliant Bring Me The Head Of Alfredo Garcia. Visually speaking, Dillinger is a cinematic masterpiece; composed with a surfeit of rich master shots by Jules Brenner (Johnny Got His Gun). Ironically, the film's best scene is shot in a tight close-up on Cloris Leachman, who plays Romanian immigrant Anna Sage (better known as the notorious "Lady in Red" that leads Dillinger to his demise outside the Biograph movie theater in Chicago). Leachman also won an Oscar for her supporting performance in The Last Picture Show, and in a just world, she'd have snagged another nomination with this tense segment, which finds Sage being bribed by Purvis to aid in setting up the gangster's murder.

Arrow Films sent only a screener copy for review, so I can't comment on the final product, but the Dillinger (Blu-ray) I screened featured a rich and impressive 1.85:1 (1080p) aspect ratio image with a pleasing graininess that made me feel like I was settled in at a double feature house back in 1973. The 1.0 PCM mono track was slightly disappointing by comparison, but by virtue of cranking up the volume (and/or calling on the optional English subtitles) you'll have no problem getting everything.

There's a nifty set of bonus features on hand. First and foremost, a superlative audio commentary track by film scholar Stephen Prince, who expertly balances revealing production details with sorting out the story's divergence from reality, making this an indispensable addition. There's also a separate music and effects track, a still photos gallery and a brace of brief interviews (with producer Lawrence Gordon, cinematographer Jules Brennan and composer Barry Devorzon) all shot exclusively for inclusion here. Finally, you get a look at the theatrical trailer. The package is also said to include a DVD copy of the film, a collectible booklet and "a reversible sleeve featuring original and newly commissioned artwork by Sean Phillips."

In his interview, executive producer Gordon (Die Hard) looks back fondly on the gangster feature he once hoped would demonstrate that American International Pictures had at long last moved past its history as a studio for exploitation and drive-in movie releases and into the big leagues. Bah! That's Hollywood hokum; absolute pabulum.

Here's the straight dope: Dillinger is pure B-movie, with obvious budgetary restrictions, scant character development and all the educational value of a large buttered popcorn, heavily salted. There's a dream cast working here, and though who's who sometimes gets hard to determine under a sea of fedoras and straw boaters—never mind a monsoon of squibs and ammunition—in this mope's estimation, the ticket buyers are better off for it.

On second thought, I'd call it a B-plus movie.

The Verdict

Guilty…but you'll never take this picture alive!

Give us your feedback!

Did we give Dillinger (1973) (Blu-ray) a fair trial? yes / no

What's "fair"? Whether positive or negative, our reviews should be unbiased, informative, and critique the material on its own merits.

Share This Review

Follow DVD Verdict

Other Reviews You Might Enjoy

• Cruel Intentions
• Pursuit
• Losing Isaiah
• Casino