Every decade Martin Scorsese releases a devastating work of art that handicaps everything to come with a  big looming shadow. Kicking off the teens in full form, Scorsese has created a brilliant slice of cinema worthy of sitting atop a mantle with his other masterpieces: Taxi Driver, Raging Bull, The Departed and Goodfellas. With Shutter Island, Scorsese revisits the world of the psychological thriller after his first attempt with 1991′s Cape Fear and trumps that effort most completely.

Set in 1954, Shutter Island follows U.S. Marshall Teddy Daniels’ investigation of a missing patient on a remote, storm struck island. The original Japanese one-sheet showed the island fractured and alone, with no bankable stars mucking up the scenery – an accurate portrayal. The island itself appears separate from the world, protected by a dense fog, jagged rocks and near ceaseless weather hazards. The buildings are remnants from the Civil War-era and the medical practices are hinted to be the same. The storm, the island, all of the setting is made its own character by Scorsese’s brushstroke. 

Leonardo DiCaprio, as Teddy Daniels, thrives in such a palpable setting. Daniels is a wrecked soul still scarred over the tragedies of his past and Shutter Island is his nightmare world come to life. The confusion, the horror – DiCaprio handles it all in turn with the best performance of his career. But, in typical Scorsese fashion, no performance from this film can be considered weak. Mark Ruffalo graces the film world with yet another very fine supporting performance and Jackie Earle Haley acts his butt off with the minute amount of screen time allotted him.

Scorsese strikes a tone of volatility with Shutter Island, lacing each line with innuendo and asking more questions than handing out answers. One scene where Teddy Daniels continuously strikes matches to light his way through a blacked out prison block is particularly striking. Only Scorsese, a true master of the medium, could craft such a tense scene with only a match book. This, combined with the psychosis-induced editing style, the brooding music choices and Robert Richardson’s rain-soaked cinematography all create an atmosphere of insanity. And, in an unexpected tactic, Scorsese unleashes these horrific dream sequences upon his audience that are truly beautiful in composition and rather heart wrenching (a highlight amongst a masterwork of offerings).

Perfection – a word that I would rarely dote upon any film, is a fitting description for Shutter Island. In fact, what amazes me most is the completeness of the film. There is no part of Shutter Island to scoff at, even if you were attempting to be as objective as possible. Any negative reviews of this film will be purely on a preferential basis, I imagine. Scorsese  has made a work of pure cinema and if, like the old saying goes, you’re only as strong as your weakest link, then Shutter Island is damn near Herculean.

Reality television has proven itself to be a lucrative demon spreading its influence across multiple networks, but this absurd genre that has bewitched American viewers with the lives of washed-up celebrities and rigorous competition contains one central flaw – it’s not real.

Biology tells us that anything observed is being influenced, whether big or small,  by the observer. So, obviously a true “reality” show can never be possible, however, differentiating between fact and fiction is certainly within our grasp. A television show like “Laguna Beach: The Real Orange County” represents an apparent exaggeration of the way people actually behave. Don’t get me wrong, I’m certain the cast members are the right amounts of vain and conceded that they appear to be, but any human being can see the falseness present in their dialogue delivery and behavior. “Laguna Beach” may or may not contain the influence of covert screenwriters, but the lingering presence of the show’s producers are enough to signify its inauthenticity.

Show someone a pseudo-reality for long enough and they’ll begin to think it’s real. White chocolate, despite its label, is not actually considered chocolate by the FDA. The candy corporations brush aside this minor technicality and continue to label it as such, and so we too refer to it by the name “white chocolate” as well. Reality shows provide an unrealistic image of the world to impressionable viewers every week. Other programs could be called out for similar reasons, although these programs seldom hide behind the bravado of “reality.” “Lost” viewers can walk away from an episode with a romanticized, often magical outlook on the world, yet still a fictional one. Telling a viewer that your show is a glimpse into someone’s real life and then using it to push an undoubtedly consumer-centric agenda is ethically condemnable.

Truthfully, reality isn’t that interesting and these spiced-up versions unfortunately may be humankind’s only option next to home movies (I shudder at the thought of home movies being shown on a twenty-four hour network). So, the  question is: when do these exaggerations stop being reality enhancers and become irresponsible? Let’s draw a comparison between Ron Howard’s “A Beautiful Mind,” a film about a mathematician named John Nash and his real life struggle with schizophrenia, and Tim Burton’s “Ed Wood”, which follows the life of notoriously awful director Edward D. Wood Jr. Both films feature a manipulation of actual events for the sake of audience appeal, but only one film boasts a more serious, and by association we assume more real, portrayal of its respective subject. That film, “A Beautiful Mind,” differs greatly from the actuality of Nash’s life which finds him divorced and probably homosexual. Howard, along with screenwriter Akiva Goldsman, took profuse liberties with “A Beautiful Mind”, crafting a real man’s tragic life into a hopeful, tear jerk-y story of perseverance and eternal love. What Howard fails to imply is that “A Beautiful Mind” is just a movie, and not a representation of John Nash’s life.  A viewer unacquainted with Nash’s story will be left believing that this is how Nash lived, loved, and existed. “Ed Wood” on the other hand, clearly spells out its intent that this will be a film less about the specifics and more about the feelings involved. Burton uses performance, production design, and even music to inform the viewer that the world they’re watching is an exaggerated, fictional place and not a true representation of the life and times of Edward D. Wood Jr.

Now, the solution for films like “A Beautiful Mind” is very simple: disclaimers. Audiences today see a film like “Pearl Harbor” and go home believing that Ben Affleck and Josh Hartnett really did save us from the Japanese. Please, just post a disclaimer informing the viewer that the product being shown has been manipulated in some way for entertainment purposes. Would William Randolph Hearst be as obstructive in “Citizen Kane”‘s release if there was a disclaimer stating something along the lines of: these events have been manipulated for your pleasure. Feature films are a form of escapism. The stories being shown are not supposed to be real, but rather a dreamy blend of reality mixed with our fantasies.

How rare it is to find films that channel the imaginative part of our brains. Wong Kar-wai’s “In the Mood for Love” draws you near, leans in close, and just before it spills its secrets, pulls away. The lead characters, Mr. Chow and Mrs. Chan, pose as innocent bystanders of the affair that both of their spouses are committing. They pose, because the feelings between them have grown from neighborly to romantic. Mr. Chow and Mrs. Chan are willing to see each other just as long as they can convince themselves that they’re different from their spouses. However, Mr. Chow inevitably informs Mrs. Chan that he loves her. Mrs. Chan offers no embrace. She accepts this as a reason to discontinue their relationship and so it ends. One year later, Mrs. Chan calls Mr. Chow (now living in Singapore) but remains silent. Three more years, Mr. Chow visits the old apartment complex and hears of a woman with a child living where Mrs. Chan once resided. Mr. Chow leaves without realizing the woman is Mrs. Chan.

Wong Kar-wai places importance upon the reality of great romances, igniting  in the viewer’s mind what could’ve been, what should be, but all the while reminding us that these things seldom work out the way we’d like. The love between Mr. Chow and Mrs. Chan will remain dormant because both are too proud to become that which they’ve grown to despise. The individualism of both characters is too strong to allow for all the usual Hollywood notes to come into play. There are no overt expressions of love; no, rather the love between these characters is written in their subtle gestures towards one another.

The repression of their movements act as a perfect illustration of the 1962 setting that the characters inhabit. The buildings, the decor, the hairstyles, and the outfits are all covered handsomely with style and strapped tight with suppression. The extravagance coating the outside world conflicts with the muteness that society expects from its denizens. In Wong Kar-Wai’s world, the slightest touch of a hand or a simple brushing of shoulders carries with it more romanticism and sexual energy than most sex scenes. To use a term coined by author Edith Wharton – it was an “age of innocence.”

The actors play as photographs thanks to the combined effort of Wong Kar-Wai and his go-to cinematographer, Christopher Doyle. Wong Kar-Wai shows a penchant for letting faces linger on screen, allowing a mood to soak in before moving the film forward. The noirish reimagining of Hong Kong circa 1960s fully bathes in all the lavish costumes and burgeoning romances that populates its dark alleys. This world is one of darkness with only glimpses of light shining through.

The last scene in the film finds Mr. Chow visiting a Buddhist temple and whispering unknown secrets into a small hole before he finally covers it with mud. He speaks earlier in the film about an old tradition of carving a hole into a tree, unburdening whatever unshared secrets you possessed, and then covering the hole with mud to ensure they never escaped. Is it regret that Mr. Chow whispers into the hole? Does his secret even pertain to Mrs. Chan? The mysteries hiding behind that patch of mud are up to you to decide.

Quentin Tarantino’s sixth film is also his official resignation from any resemblance of real human characters. Ever since “Pulp Fiction,” Tarantino has been systematically eliminating the human elements of his films and replacing them with cartoonish views on the way people behave. “Inglourious Basterds” is the logical next step in this progression and offers up quite the dish of absurdities, inaccuracies, and all around weirdness. That being said, I absolutely loved it.

The film follows a group of Jewish-American Nazi hunters who are assigned to spread fear throughout the Third Reich using whatever brutal tactics they deem fit. Concurrently, the film also follows a Jewish woman plotting her revenge against the Nazi scum who murdered her family.

Once again, Tarantino shows an impeccable penchant for casting. Brad Pitt oozes with animated appeal as the dark caricature, Lt. Aldo Raine. Also, “Basterds” brings to light a comic side only hinted at in Pitt’s previous projects. Melanie Laurent makes a tremendously successful American debut as the war scorn theater owner Shoshanna Dreyfus. Laurent utilizes excellent switches between the good-natured owner of a cinema and the Jewish girl salivating at the chance to inflict a death blow to the murderers of her family. The last member of the main cast is Christoph Waltz’s Col. Hans Landa who will undoubtedly become the 2009 equivalent to Heath Ledger’s Joker. Waltz, mainly a television actor before “Basterds,” crafts one of the most charismatic and deeply disturbing villains in recent years.

The script for “Basterds” is a nice step in the right direction for Tarantino. The dialogue and storyline are much more cohesive than in his past films (“Death Proof”) and don’t divulge into the usual extraneous zones. The lengthy talking scenes that are Tarantino’s claim to fame have been redirected with an end goal of being more poignant. This newfound orientation turns out to be a game-maker, delivering the best paced film of Tarantino’s career.

“Basterds” unfolds in individual chapters with large gaps of time and narrative missing in between. Each of these chapters plays like its own little short film, complete with its own genre, its own specific story, and its own cast of characters. Tarantino is a formidable genre filmmaker and this newly adopted structure works superbly for him. Each of these chapters is a standalone wonder, but together they form a brilliant succession of episodic content.

Inevitably, the happenings of each of these episodes all culminate in one big finish at an old movie theater. It’s during this final chapter that Tarantino makes his biggest, boldest claims about the power of cinema. Tarantino uses the magic of film to actually change the course of history – he kills Hitler. Many reviewers stray away from this element of the story in order to keep the ending unspoiled; however, I find it impossible to review “Basterds” without mentioning this shocking revelation. The death of Hitler cements the fantasy element of the movie and delivers a terrifically satisfying ending.

The world of Tarantino is one of fantasy. Despite how lifelike Jules and Vince may appear onscreen, they’re still completely implausible in the real world. So, it’s only natural that a “World War II” film by Tarantino would involve ravish exaggerations and many falsities. Before “Inglourious Basterds,” I would have never described a WWII movie as being hilarious. Tarantino has taken a genre with little or no inovation left and completely turned it on its head, providing the most entertaining film of the year.

Film Rating: A-

Remember Woodstock? Neither do I, but I’m familiar with the tales. Five hundred thousand people traveled from all parts of America to enjoy a concert that was intended for less than half that amount. It was billed as “three days of peace & music,” but it certainly wouldn’t of been perceived that way by the inhabitants of Bethel, New York. “Taking Woodstock” attempts to capture these two interpretations all while crafting the personal story of the man who made it all possible, Elliot Teichberg.

Elliot Teichberg (Demetri Martin) has put his life on hold in order to help his parents resuscitate their failing shanty motel. After an upcoming music festival is killed in a local town, Elliot decides to use his town and motel as host for the festival. However, little does Elliot know that this festival will become the biggest musical event in history.

Demetri Martin performs moderately in his first starring role. Glimpses of Martin’s stand up persona shine through at times and this works well with the lighter scenes towards the beginning of the film; however, Martin clearly struggles with the heavier, more emotional scenes later on. It was an interesting casting choice by Lee, but not entirely successful.

An interesting plus for the movie is Imelda Saunton and Henry Goodman who play the respective parents of Elliot Teischberg. Both actors give very colorful performances and provide by far the most compelling characters in “Taking Woodstock.”

The remainder of the cast fit nicely into their own little niche, but offer up very little in terms of interest. Paul Dano takes an unremarkable turn at playing an acid-dropping hippie, Emile Hirsch is your conventional flashback ridden Vietnam War veteran, and Liev Schreiber plays a brawny transvestite. All of these characters disappear at the three fourths mark, which makes me wonder if Lee himself even cared about them.

Lee revisits the split screen method he coined with “The Hulk,” but somehow manages to use it even less effectively here. The split screen is only successful when the two images in use are of equal importance however Lee often pits us with a pivotal character development on one side and some useless detail 0n the other. Besides the balancing issue, this whole method becomes entirely overused and tiresome after awhile. It’s a very disappointing development for a director who is typically spot-on in the visual department.

Well, it’s a movie about Woodstock so its got to have the music, right? Wrong. Danny Elfman’s score leaves a lot to be desired and the musical choices – while certainly 60s – aren’t particularly fitting for cinema. Entering “Taking Woodstock,” I expected a soundtrack that was familiar and I could tap my foot to as the plot unfolds. After all, nostalgia is what this festival is really about, isn’t it? The Doors and The Grateful Dead are certainly musical geniuses, but they don’t make for a particular effective pace in a movie that already moves at a drag.

My biggest complaint with “Taking Woodstock” is how misconstrued the purpose of the festival becomes. The happenings in Bethel, New York should never be attributed to just one man. The true power of the Woodstock Festival lied in the connections between people. A majority of those in attendance never even witnessed the concert, however everyone could hear it. So, “three days of peace & music” turned out to be an entirely accurate slogan. Woodstock, for most, was literally three days of people listening to music and simply enjoying each other. An event of this kind can never be summarized or condensed into a simple biographical film.

Film Rating: C

Robin Williams has had a sordid career as a comedic actor. Sorry, did I say sordid? I meant downright awful. Lately, Williams has been burdening his fans with one lackluster family movie after another. “World’s Greatest Dad” is Williams’ attempt to return to the darker tinged, better received comedies of his past (“The Birdcage,” “Good Morning, Vietnam”) and; overall, it’s an admirable stab at reclaiming his status as a Hollywood funny man.

Lance Clayton (Robin Williams) is a man who has learned to settle with the tough breaks life has given him: he’s an unsuccessful writer, his son is an asshole, and his girlfriend doesn’t want to admit they’re dating. Suddenly, when Clayton’s son dies tragically, he’s met with an opportunity to change his life for the better if only he can live with the consequences.

The film moves at a brisk pace, immediately enacting the horrific event that changes Lance Clayton’s life for the better. It’s at this point that the movie begins to stagger, then fall, then never walk again. The movie is presented with a unique opportunity to portray a father who may be legitimately happier without his son, but then safely tucks back into conformity close to the ending.

Speaking of playing it safe, the film routinely divulges into typical high school movie fare. A character who was initially unpopular amongst his classmates will of course become the king of the high school (See: Mean Girls, Charlie Bartlett, Bring It On). Also, the teacher who hosts the most boring class on the roster will assuredly turn this around and become the most popular teacher on campus (Coincidentally, see “Dead Poets Society”).

“Greatest Dad” ignites a very passionate pet peeve of mine – the bastardization of certain songs. There is a limit to which particular songs should be used. Overly utilized songs often connect the viewer to similar instances or montages in other films where that specific piece of music was employed (often to greater effect). The songs in question are often too connected, too reserved to a specific time, feeling, emotion to ever be applied appropriately in a modern film. “Greatest Dad”‘s tragic misuse  of music is perhaps one of the most victimized movie songs of all time – the Queen/Bowie hit “Under Pressure.” As you’d expect, the song is relied on to convey the stress and anxiety that the main character is undergoing at the time.

The first fourth of “Greatest Dad” has some relatively inspired moments of dark comic gold. Williams’ is great at playing the father who hates his life and Daryl Sabara (“Spy Kids”) turns in a surprisingly hilarious performance as Lance’s douche bag son. However, these “gold” moments are used up fairly quickly and “Greatest Dad” falls into bland predictable territory. “Greatest Dad” strives for originality and has occasional success, but unfortunately falls into too many trappings of conventionality along the way.

Film Rating: D+

“District 9″ follows a race of extraterrestrials who’ve been marooned on Earth through mysterious circumstances. Humans quickly intern this new alien race in a slum of sorts where they’re routinely raided by a security force dubbed Multi-National United (MNU). However, after one MNU agent becomes exposed to a biological contaminant, he’s forced to help the refugee-like aliens escape in order to save himself.

“District 9,” like many so many blockbusters before it, suffers from multiple movie syndrome. The first movie is a mockumentary addressing the recent invasion of the aliens and the human response that follows. The second film is about a man struggling to keep his humanity while he slowly turns into something he hates. The third film is your typical man-on-the-run action movie. Essentially, “District 9″ is “The Office” meets “The Fly” meets “The Fugitive.” For simplicity, I will review each separate part of the movie below.

Mockumentary: The first part of the film is the most like its trailer. It’s a fake documentarian’s look at the world of “District 9″ and does a good job of establishing the universe and racial tensions of the movie. Personally, I found this section of the film to be quite dry. Visually, it’s a treat but with no human factor anchoring it down this initial chunk can become downright boring.

Struggle for Humanity: This portion of the movie deals with the main character’s slow transformation into one of the extraterrestrials he helped oppress. Director Neil Blomkamp attempts to balance the humanless first act by incorporating a character driven second act, but ultimately the overt emotional tugging feels unwarranted. Despite this, Blomkamp still manages to craft a fantastic vision of body horror that rivals even Cronenberg’s “The Fly.”

Man-on-the-run: The final act of “District 9″ is your generic man-on-the-run tale that all culminates in a giant action-y finish. It’s by far the film’s most disappointing area and leaves very little in terms of originality or plot resolution. I suspect this is to leave an opening for a sequel, but “District 9″ certainly suffers because of it. However, the effects of the various alien small arms do offer up some very gruesome results that are initially quite enjoyable.

Neil Blomkamp has successfully crafted three separate films that on their own may have been good, but together make a messy work of things. Blomkamp has an eye for great images (such as the amazing floating mothership above District 9), but his first feature film suffers from not enough substance beneath all the glitter. However, I must commend the man for finally creating a movie where humanity was the ruling force over the aliens.

Film Rating: C-

Recently, John Hughes passed away and I couldn’t help but think who might be his replacement in the grand scheme of comedic directors. Hughes created the teenage comedy and finding a director who’s made a similar impact is a tough search. However, after seeing “Funny People,” it’s easy to see that Judd Apatow may be blooming into just that director.

Apatow has reintroduced the world to the R-rated comedy with such hits as “The 40 Year Old Virgin” and “Knocked Up.” The influence of his raunchy style are now heavily integrated into many modern films much in the same way that Hughes’ insightful teenage works are now commonplace in cinema. Hughes presented the world with a humanizing view of teenage life and the emotional fragility that accompanies it, while Apatow has given the world a relentlessly unrestrained view behind closed doors at male behavior. Apatow, much like Hughes, is one of the great American comic auteurs and “Funny People” certainly isn’t a blemish on that record.

George Simmons (Adam Sandler) is your typical aging comedic actor. Typical, except for the fact that he’s dying from a blood disease. So, George strikes out by returning to the stand up career that he once abandoned in order to make the commercial hits that now litter the walls of his house. One night, George takes notice of an up and coming comedian named Ira Wright (Seth Rogen) and decides to take him under his wing. However, when George’s disease suddenly goes into remission, he’s forced to re-evaluate what’s important in his life.

The most affecting part of “Funny People” may be the parallels between Adam Sandler and the character he plays – George Simmons. Both Sandler and Simmons are complete sellouts, making movies that are critically lauded but always financially successful. Sandler plays this to a tee, imbuing his character with a chilled depression hidden behind a comic’s persona. It reminded me a great deal of Mickey Rourke’s performance in last year’s “The Wrestler.” Saying Sandler and Rourke turned in two career performances with their respective works is hardly fair, they simply played what they knew – themselves. Despite this, “Funny People” represents Sandler’s finest acting work yet.

Another career performance belongs to Seth Rogen who supports a more subdued comic reparte than in his previous films. Also, perhaps taking a note from his co-star Jason Schwartzman, adds a layer of vulnerability rarely seen in Rogen’s characters. Altogether, “Funny People” is an artistic branching out for Rogen that I’m all too happy to see.

“Funny People” is really a sad clown. It’s externalities present a laugh-a-minute comedy but deep down there is a very grim story about a man learning to live again after accepting death. The reality of “Funny People” will come as a stark surprise to those who prepared themselves for the typical high concept works of Apatow’s past. The characters float around just trying to make themselves happy in the same way they entertain their audiences. It’s purpose isn’t to make any statement grander than life itself. There will be no coming of age in “Funny People” – just age.

Film Rating: B

Romantic comedy is a genre that too often sits in a pool of stagnant water. It’s strange for a film type so popular to be so lacking in the innovation department and it’s because of this that I am always wildly enamored by those rare entries that attempt to separate themselves from the pack and try to create something unique. “(500) Days of Summer” is most certainly one of those entries.

The film follows Tom (Joseph Gordon-Levitt), a romantic, and Summer (Zooey Deschanel), a girl who doesn’t believe in attachments, through the five hundred days of their relationship. The narrator warns us right away that “this is not a love story,” but I can’t help feeling that this is false. Is it less of a love story if the love is only one-sided? Do all love stories have to end happily? No, this is definitely a love story. In fact, “(500) Days of Summer” spins a truer tale of love than most. Love is about extremes, and “(500) Days of Summer” taps into those extremes. We watch Tom burgeoning with happiness one minute and then crushed with depression the next – that’s love.

The emotional turbulence present in the movie is by far its most successful part. The audience sways back and forth between Tom’s highs and lows. The involvement with the main character Tom isn’t just base empathy, it’s a much deeper investment that inevitably takes you soaring through the whole emotional spectrum. When Tom feels like crap, you’ll feel like crap and when Tom is happy, you’ll be walking on freaking sunshine. There’s one particularly effective dance number (set to Hall & Oates “You Make My Dreams”) that literally put a full smile on my face for the duration of the scene.

“(500) Days of Summer” is told out of order, jumping back and forth chronologically to big events throughout the course of Tom and Summer’s relationship. The non-sequential nature of the movie originally felt a bit gimmicky but grew on me quickly. The big jumps through time and emotional states are an interesting device indeed and give a certain introspection into the relationship that wouldn’t have been possible in a linear format.

The soundtrack has the typical indie flare present in other films like “Garden State” and “Juno” but it works much more naturally here. The music appropriately established each new mood and never once felt too abrasive or out of place. Also, the sensational use of Hall & Oates made the soundtrack feel less trendy than those other films.

Joseph Gordon-Levitt and Zooey Deschanel both turn in two of their careers’ best performances. I’m hardpressed to think of any two young actors who could’ve done justice to these roles as well as Gordon-Levitt and Deschanel. This is their second film together (the first being 2001′s “Manic”) and the chemistry between these two is undeniable at this point. They play off of each other in a way very reminiscent of Spencer Tracy and Katherine Hepburn. Furthermore, it was recently announced that they would continue making movies together in hopes of becoming the next big screen couple. After “(500) Days of Summer,” I eagerly await their next project.

Film Rating: A-

Michael Mann’s “Public Enemies” finally ends the long hibernation period for the great crime opera. Not since Mann’s seminal crime opus “Heat” has this forum been utilized so successfully. “Enemies” reincarnates the gangster movies of old with a wholly original vision and a cinematic experience unlike any other this summer.

John Dillinger (Johnny Depp) robs banks. It’s a simplified mission statement, but a remarkably spot-on one. Dillinger lives his life moment-to-moment, never thinking about the consequences that tomorrow might bring. Depp’s carefree charisma that he coined in the “Pirates” series and “Once Upon a Time in Mexico” serve him well here. Also, Dillinger’s near chivalrous nature when it comes to bank robbery works well with the soft conviction conveyed by Depp.

Inevitably, boy will always meet girl and “Enemies” doesn’t do much to change that formula. Dillinger meets Billie Frechette (Marion Cotillard), a coat checker, and almost immediately charms her into “being his girl.” This film represents Marion Cotillard’s first role since her 2007 win for Best Actress and it does not disappoint. Cotillard is able to imbue this damsel in distress with a sense of dignity and loyalty rarely seen in these types. Marion Cotillard’s second outing into larger waters is not quite the success of “La Vie En Rose,” but it’s definitely nothing to scoff at.

Dillinger’s immovable object in the movie is J. Edgar Hoover’s crimebusting G-Men. Among these, Melvin Pervis (Christian Bale) is the head agent in charge of apprehending John Dillinger. Bale offers yet another commendable performance as the stonefaced machine-like Pervis. This character is not complex. No, rather Melvin Pervis works as the direct opposition to John Dillinger. The charisma, the chivalry, and the soft conviction are all opposed by Pervis’s Dillinger Squad and their fierce determination to catch or kill John Dillinger.

It’s been a long haul for Mann, struggling over the years to perfect his visual style with pictures like “Collateral” and “Miami Vice;” however, Mann’s work on “Enemies” proves to be the right match of style and substance that the director has been searching for. The digital photography of this truly magnificent looking film captures not only an idea of the time, but a true look through the eyes of a 1930s American citizen. This may very well prove to be the first real period piece.

The high-def digital photography used in a “Public Enemies” is certainly a marvel in itself. The audience is privy to every slight blemish or defect present on an actor’s face (that’s right, even Johnny Depp isn’t perfect) which works as a great humanizing tool in the movie. There is one particular scene where John Dillinger stares up at a Hollywood starlet on a movie screen that this effect becomes fully realized. Johnny Depp, in fullest detail, looks long at this glossy actress (filmmakers traditionally used gauze or some other distortion method for close-ups of actresses), Myrna Loy, and the contrast between the two is damn near mesmerizing.

Michael Mann’s one foot on the ground approach to directing action sequences reaches yet another high in “Public Enemies.” The Little Bohemia Lodge scene in particular drools of all the brilliant sound design and intelligent fight choreography Mann has perfected over the years. There are too many action movies today where people just seem like drones lining up for the slaughter. Mann brings order to this slew of inconsequential action rabble and provides an entry where characters will genuinely fight for their lives.

Despite appearances, “Public Enemies” is not a movie for the gung-ho action crowd. Yes, there certainly is plenty of action but “Enemies” plays more like a long contemplative character study about a man slowly catching up to the idea that he won’t live forever. Mann delivers a thoughtful and altogether beautiful looking biopic that is easily the greatest movie to come out of 2009. This is a film for fans of “The Godfather,” not “Transformers.”

Film Rating: A