Essentially there are two kinds of gangster movies: those made during the time when men wore hats in real life and those made during the time when men wore hats that came from wardrobe. The first type are usually in black-and-white, punchy, nervy and full of wisecracks. The second type are usually longer and more violent, but slower-paced and nobler of purpose, as if the hats suddenly carried an extra weight, an extra sadness. What Michael Mann has achieved with the new Public Enemies is an often fascinating, striking combination of the two.

I walked into the new film, convinced that it could never top lean, mean B-movie classics like Max Nosseck's Dillinger (1945) or Don Siegel's Baby Face Nelson (1957) in which these gangsters were initially immortalized. But it equals them, capturing some of their raw energy and allure and clocking in as a longer, but equally fast-moving and adrenaline-pumping example. Somehow Mann only manages to use the extra time for flash and spectacle, and hardly any for depth or detail, but that only helps to speed things along. Happily, he also avoids the typical origin story, and plunges right in.

Are you psyched to see Captain Jack Sparrow as a real-life gangster? Johnny Depp plays an infamous criminal in Michael Mann's Public Enemies, which opens tomorrow. But in a world where giant robots draw huge crowds, "do audiences want to see Depp as a fairly realistic, non-fantasy version of Depression-era bank robber John Dillinger?"

That's the question asked by Anne Thompson, a veteran industry analyst. She describes the movie as only "fitfully engaging ... often flat as a pancake." She says that Michael Mann's "biggest misstep here is the same as the Wachowskis with Speed Racer. His pursuit of what interests him formally may leave audiences behind." Like David Fincher's Zodiac and The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, and Mann's own Collateral and Miami Vice, Public Enemies was shot on high-definition video. Thompson claims: "When moviegoers watch a period film, no matter how authentically recreated, they aren't expecting it to look like this. There's something jarring about the way Public Enemies shoves us into the past."

I don't know about you, but I could use a good shove now and again. I've enjoyed Mann's last two films, and the trailers for Public Enemies have done a good job of whetting my appetite. The cast, including Christian Bale, Marion Cotillard, and Billy Crudup, looks solid. I don't have any preconception about how period films should look -- I want a good, well-told story with interesting characters. How about you? Do you have certain expectations about how films set in the past should look? Do you want to see Johnny Depp as a "fairly-realistic, non-fantasy" bank robber?

Well, don't we all feel a little silly. Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen, the movie that received the most hysterically negative reviews of 2009 opened to by far the year's biggest numbers -- $201 million since Wednesday, according to estimates. That's just a couple million shy of the first-five-days-of-release record set by The Dark Knight, though that movie opened on a Thursday. (It's tough to truly compare opening weekends of mega-blockbusters these days, since God knows on what day of the week they all hit theaters.) I hope everyone is looking forward to Transformers 3, where Autobots will discover fart jokes.

The only movie to dare take on Revenge of the Fallen in wide release, was the Nick Cassavetes weepie My Sister's Keeper, which opened to a respectable $12 million -- almost as strong as Cassavetes' The Notebook, though unlikely to be carried to an $80 million cume by good word-of-mouth. Year One took a big tumble, falling off 70% its middling opening; I guess Michael Cera and Jack Black aren't quite the automatic draw that battling cyborgs are. And The Hangover continues to ride a wave of audience goodwill; it will likely have reached $200 million by this time next weekend.

As for your weekly Up v. Finding Nemo update -- it's still neck-in-neck, with Nemo ahead by about $3 million after five weeks of release. If this weekend's heftier drop-off for Up is any indication, it may be starting to lose a little steam, which would mean that Nemo would get to hold on to the Pixar crown.

The full top 10 after the jump.

How faithful should film adaptations be? The issue arises both with novels and with films that are remade: fans of the original are none-too-pleased to see the personality of beloved characters changed, settings or time periods moved, or -- horror of horrors! -- the ending changed. Watchmen ignited a mini-firestorm with the decision to alter the ending of the original graphic novel by Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons. On a somewhat smaller scale, faithful readers of Jodi Picoult's novel My Sister's Keeper are upset that the ending was changed for Nick Cassavetes' just-released movie version.

Author Picoult disclaims responsibility while trying to be diplomatic. "Yes, I know the ending is different," she writes on her official site. "Yes, I know some of you are very upset. I didn't change it. The author has no control over the movie, and it was hard for me to accept too. However, there's a great deal in the movie that I think is great, and I enjoyed watching it - and I hope you did too." She suggests that her fans let Warner Brothers know how they feel. As a point of interest, four out of five comments on my review for Cinematical have complained about the ending.

It seems foolish to try and establish a hard-and-fast rule that original endings should never be changed -- filmmakers should have the artistic right to exercise dramatic license when adapting a work to a different medium. Yet how often have film versions actually improved endings that they've changed?

Multiple Oscar nominee Stephen Frears is a tough nut to crack. Amiable but terse, his excellent multilayered films do the talking for him, from his first collaboration with Christopher Hampton and Michelle Pfeiffer on 1998's Dangerous Liaisons to 2007's The Queen. In his latest film, Cheri (read Cinematical's review here), Frears turns his lens onto the cloistered and often duplicitous world of wealthy courtesans. Frears' films often focus on subversive outsiders who must make their own "family," as it were, such as Dirty Pretty Things, The Grifters, and My Beautiful Laundrette. But Cheri's delicious spin on sex, love, and aging is typical of its source material from author Colette, whose books Cheri and The Last of Cheri present a world of upside-down relationships and self-sufficient, frankly sexual women.

Michelle Pfeiffer leads the cast as the stunning Lea de Lonval, a famous courtesan whose friend Madame Peloux, played with busty abandon by Kathy Bates, encourages Lea to have an affair with Peloux's louche son Cheri, the pale and effeminate Rupert Friend. Neglected as a child while his mother was dealing with her affairs, Cheri is hardly likeable or loveable, but somehow their affair becomes less about sex and more about the love both he and Lea have lacked in their lives. Peloux throws a wrench into the whole thing when she plans a wedding for Cheri to another courtesan's child, Edmee, played by newcomer Felicity Jones. What happens after that surprises them all.

Cheri opens June 26th in limited cities. Visit the official website for more information.

Cinematical: What's the difference between releasing a movie like Cheri during Oscar season as opposed to the summer blockbuster season? Is it more or less stressful?

Stephen Frears: The problem with competing for the Oscars is it's very tough, so in a way it's quite a relief being [released] at another time of the year. You're all right if you've got the one that gets everybody's attention, but fighting for attention is quite difficult. I've released films in that season that have been just overlooked.

The French writer Colette, born Sidonie-Gabrielle Colette (1873 - 1954), lived one of those witty, charming lives you've read about, doing things like performing at the Moulin Rouge and having affairs with Josephine Baker, while marrying several rich husbands. She wrote, among many other things, what would become the famous musical Gigi, which Director Vincente Minnelli turned into a dull, immobile Oscar-winning hit in 1958. The English film director Stephen Frears would have been 13 when Colette died, though at that age, he had most likely never heard of her. But now, 55 years later, the two have teamed up for the new movie Cheri, based on Collete's 1920 novel about a passionate affair between an aging courtesan and a spoiled younger man.

Frears seems like the right man for the job. After all, his similarly sexy costume drama Dangerous Liaisons (1988) was another Oscar-winning hit. And in his Mrs. Henderson Presents (2005) he dealt with issues of sexuality and censorship on the stage, so he seems prepped to make something really sexy and full of wit and charm, especially given that he's re-teamed with his Dangerous Liaisons star Michelle Pfeiffer. It's a win-win scenario that quickly turns lose-lose. For some reason, Cheri is dead on arrival, a cold fish. It just lies there, too lethargic to be funny and too timid to be sexy, but not deep enough for any real drama.

By: James Rocchi (reprinted from The Toronto International Film Festival, 9.13.08)

Based on journalist Mark Boal's real experiences following bomb disposal experts in Iraq, The Hurt Locker isn't just a welcome return to big-screen action from director Kathryn Bigelow (who has wrung both fame and infamy from her art with Near Dark, Strange Days and Point Break). It's an assured, confident, swaggering piece of moviemaking that manages to not only evoke every war of the 20th century but also, despite the claims by makers and some reviewers that it's an 'apolitical' film, speaks very specifically to the Iraq war. Even so, plunging us into the thick of things alongside the highly-trained men (and they're all men here) who defuse bombs for the Army, Bigelow and Boal avoid the speeches and postures and long, contemplative talks of home front films like Stop-Loss and In the Valley of Elah by staying in Iraq, and they shun the loopy, loony formal experiments of Brian De Palma's Redacted. Boal and Bigelow stay laser-focused on one group of men with a singular mission, and make us live in the constant possibility of death. Viewed from half a world away, a bomb is a political concern; viewed from less than a foot away, a bomb's just a high-stakes exercise in problem-solving, where making a mistake means a final, terminal education in the physics of expanding gases.

I'm not ashamed to say that I cry at the movies. Not frequently, but occasionally a story and its characters will grab hold of me to the extent that I'm completely caught up in the emotions and feelings being expressed. Films as disparate as John Ford's The Searchers and Wong Kar-Wai's Chungking Express have caused me to weep with joy, relief, and sorrow.

Despite a relentless barrage of scenes evidently designed with the sole goal of jerking tears, Nick Cassavetes' My Sister's Keeper did not make me cry. It is, however, one of the most glorious-looking terminal cancer pictures I've ever seen. Cinematographer Caleb Deschanel (The Black Stallion, The Natural) paints the oft-mundane proceedings in an otherworldly glow, as though the transition to the next life had already begun. That's the guiding principle of the movie as a whole; even though an inflammatory and emotionally wrenching issue serves as the linchpin for the plot, great pains are taken to soften the blows so as not to inflict lasting damage upon the viewer.

Frankly, that latter point, much more than whether I personally shed tears, is what prevents My Sister's Keeper from escaping middlebrow territory. Cameron Diaz and Jason Patric are splendidly noble as Brian and Sara Fitzgerald, whose daughter Kate (Sofia Vassilieva) is diagnosed at a young age with leukemia. Brian and Sara conceive another child with genetic modifications so she can serve as a donor to her sister. Anna (Abigail Breslin) (*) seems fine with all the body part donations until Kate's condition worsens to the point that she needs a kidney transplant. Then 11-year-old Anna marches into the office of well-known lawyer Campbell Alexander (Alec Baldwin) and demands medical emancipation from her parents.

(By James Rocchi - reprinted from the Toronto International Film Festival, 9/10/08)

The Hurt Locker sees director Kathryn Bigelow craft a big, booming tale of tension based on journalist Mark Boal's experiences and interviews with bomb disposal experts in the streets of Iraq. Toronto didn't just see The Hurt Locker earn raves from many critics; it also saw the film get picked up by Summit Entertainment for distribution. Cinematical spoke with Bigelow and Boal in Toronto about breaking the audience's unconscious link between an actor's salary and a character's destiny, whether or not their film is really apolitical, the fun and excitement of blowing things up on-set, how making the movie yourself is the best way to be sure you make the movie you want to and much more.Cinematical's podcast content is now available through iTunes; you can subscribe at this link. Also, you can listen directly here at Cinematical by clicking below:



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