Bale, almost as gruff and taciturn as he was when pursuing Heath Ledger’s Joker in The Dark Knight (2008), doesn’t bring much to the drama other than sullen endeavour. That’s not necessarily a disaster; after all, it’s Depp who’s going to be supplying the charisma, right?
Actually, no. Depp looks great in his Fedora and long coats. He’s not bad at pulling out a tommy gun and spraying bullets at police agents, either. But these are costume changes, gestures and poses, little more than wan impersonations. He’s bloodless, a vacuum at the centre of the film, unwilling or unable to risk any kind of emotional investment in or make a stab at interpreting his character.
Much better is the wonderful Marion Cotillard, last seen in Piaf (2007), who pulls off the difficult trick of being both needy and confident at the same time.
Her hunger – for excitement, protection, the certainty that she finds in Dillinger – supplies the emotion that the movie, which in its second half veers into a technically superior and visually striking police procedural, all too often lacks.

Senor Bale was a no show, though