"Public Enemies" should be a great movie. It depicts an American icon and follows a classic and beloved cop-and-robber formula. It stars two chameleons disguised as humans, Johnny Depp and Christian Bale, and we get to watch these leading actors of their generation play with guns. We also get to watch one of the top directors in Hollywood, Michael Mann, dissect such grand themes as morality and the gangster personality within one of the most richly mythologized periods in American history. Not to mention that "Public Enemies" is competing with the likes of "Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen." I should be salivating.
And although certain promises are kept, such as iconic imagery and punchy dialogue, I only salivated from boredom. This is merely a good movie. The inspiration and excitement I was expecting to feel was replaced with a sense of perturbed dissatisfaction consistent with the lukewarm response from popular and critical opinion and box office earnings.
This is a story of disappointment akin to the 2007 New England Patriots, the NFL team known for almost going undefeated and not winning the Super Bowl. For that sports team and this movie, failing to nail the landing begs the question, "what happened?"
The answer to this question lies in another movie that naturally evokes comparison: "Heat" (1995) another Michael Mann picture that is also a cop and robber story and also stars two of the best actors of their generation, Al Pacino and Robert De Niro.
"Heat" succeeds where "Public Enemies" fails. It is a great movie. It is timelessly compelling. You can watch it with glee, even if it is for the sixth time. In my mind, one of the few factors that tips a good movie into greatness is the handling of two key scenes: a. the emotionally climactic halftime scene and b. the reflective end scene. The secret ingredient that Mann uses in "Heat" but unintentionally neglects in "Public Enemies" is a principle that, in recent years, has revolutionized the effectiveness of group therapy. It is known as the Here-And-Now.
The Here-And-Now is a technique in which the group therapist makes comments and asks questions in the service of bringing multiple group members into the present moment to assert the maladaptive proclivities that have compelled them into therapy. It is the difference between talking about a problem or conflict and actually acting it out. Orchestrating an interaction that focuses on what is happening right now between two group members facilitates a meaningful interpersonal connection that, in turn, creates a more powerful learning experience about oneself.
Dr. Irvin Yalom, one of the unofficial founders of group therapy, breaks down the Here-And-Now into two parts, "a non-historic immediate experience part that takes precedence over the current outside life and the distant past of group members (a.k.a the halftime scene) and an essential second part that consists of recognizing, examining, and understanding the process (the end scene)."
The director of a great film must double as a group therapist mindful of the Here-And-Now. In the case of "Heat" evidence of the Here-And-Now is found in the presence of three subtle psychological markers: the articulation of core fears, authentic values and anxiety.
In "Heat" the halftime scene is the famous diner scene. This is the one and only scene in which De Niro, a professional robber, and Pacino, a veteran LAPD homicide detective, engage each other directly. The two rivals take a timeout from their respective missions to confide in each other over a cup of coffee. The conversation is immediately elevated into psychologically meaningful territory when the two swap stories about reoccurring nightmares, a phenomenon that Freud deemed the royal road to the unconscious.
We discover that De Niro is plagued by images of drowning, and that Pacino is relentlessly assaulted with the decayed faces of the criminals he's killed. We learn that De Niro fears not having enough time to enjoy the fruits of his labor. Pacino fears a violent end to the professional pursuits that have come to dominate his life (core fears).
Further, both men are devoted to their work above all else. De Niro is resigned to profound loneliness as he does not allow anything into his life "that he cannot walk out on in thirty seconds flat if he spots the heat around the corner." Similarly, Pacino endures a dysfunctional personal life so that he can search through the remains of a crime for the scent of his prey and then hunts them down (authentic values).
As they exit the diner with a mutual appreciation, respect and understanding of each other a meaningful connection is born. The goal of group therapy is achieved. As an audience, knowing the characters fears allows us to connect with them, knowing their values allows us to root for them. And on a level below that the characters can do the same thing with each other. In moments of crisis and conflict, when the tear-jerking soundtrack plays, the characters can actually experience deep emotion, instead of just standing around looking intense.
The parallel scene in "Public Enemies" is the prison scene that also depicts Depp, the charismatic bank robber, and Bale, the FBI's top agent, going toe to toe for the one and only time. Here, instead of sharing fears and values, they confront and provoke each other. Every icy stare and threatening remark initiated by Bale is countered with a carefree witticism from Depp. The staring contest and standup routine does nothing to engender a meaningful relationship and instead creates a connection that lies somewhere between an empty dismissal and mild hostility.
Next, the reflective end scene. In "Heat," Pacino chases De Niro through an airport field before gunning him down. As De Niro takes his final breaths, Pacino holds his hand. The emotional stakes are high. We know that De Niro has failed by the skin of his teeth to escape the life of crime that he has never loved, while Pacino must now suffer an addition to his body count of rare and worthy foes. As an audience, we are emotionally stung by the anxiety of unfulfilled desires, and the painful loss of a compassionate relationship.
The ending that unravels between Depp and Bale is striking only in that the emotional stakes are virtually non-existent. As Depp leaves a movie theater lost in thought, he is fatally shot by one of the nameless and faceless cops in Bale's police gang. Even after the trigger is pulled, Bale is nowhere to be seen and, for all we know about Depp, he might have been happiest dying the shocking and public death so characteristic of mythologized criminals. Without the Here-And-Now elements, even the characters don't seem to care about what is happening.
As in group therapy, use of the Here-And-Now can push both the characters and audience members so forcefully into the present moment that one ends up in the mind of the other. This ability to understand the thoughts and feelings of another triggers an emotional trajectory from the halftime scene to the end scene that either makes or breaks a movie, as an audience member is either given sufficient information to know and care about what is happening or is not. This group therapy device is especially important for films like "Heat" and "Public Enemies" that do not employ other cinematic devices designed to transport a viewer inside the mind of a character, such as voiceover narration or flashbacks. In his next movie, Mann would do well to remember that no amount of bullets can replace the psychologically penetrating heat found in "Heat" and imposed by the Here-And-Now.
