Public Enemies

Before I arrived in Dublin, I used my favorite new Internet tool, HostelWorld.com, to book accomodation in Ireland. I'd almost gotten addicted to it in Portugal, so much so that the idea of not booking a hostel or hotel in advance over the web began to terrify. So much for the days of arriving in a place spontaneously. Something lost, something gained.

As it happened, I decided not to stay in Dublin proper. Ireland has become a phenomenally expensive place (even the Irish complain about it), and staying in the city would have meant another hostel. It was a fun experience in Lisbon, but I wanted to relax for a few days.

So instead I booked a couple nights at the Travelodge out in the suburb of Swords, not far from the airport. Using Google maps, I found the route from the airport, and when I arrived in Ireland in the afternoon, I simply strapped on my backpack and hiked out of the airport on the sidewalks, then along the road north to Swords, whistling and singing to myself as I passed the thistles along the road. I felt like I was twenty years old again, hiking in Scotland.

The Travelodge was confortable enough (for fifty-five euros a night), but the Internet cost seven euros for 50 minutes. I grudgingly signed up and paid with my debit card. The first thing I did was email my friend Fergus out in Galway, to tell him I'd arrived in Ireland. He emailed me back in short order, warning me against the "tough characters" in Dublin. I should watch myself, he told me.

The next morning (which happned to be July 4th) I went back out beside the road and caught a double-decker bus which carried me into the city. I spent most of the morning exploring the waterfront and the port areas along the River Liffey (I love ports).

After a couple hours I began to wonder if Fergus had been talking about the Russians, which seemed to be everywhere in Dublin. If you've seen the movie Once (2007), you saw a love story between an Irish man and a Hungarian woman working in Dublin. It turns out this is quite on the mark. Dublin is overflowing with Eastern Europeans who came here during the boom. For example, everyone working at the Travelodge out in Swords seemed to be Polish.

The bus that took me into Dublin had deposited me on Connelly Street, smack in front of the Savoy Theater, a nice old multiplex cinema in the city center, built in 1928. Before embarking on my walking trip, I perused the show times on the LED marquee. I noticed that Public Enemies, which had just been released in both the US and Europe, was playing in the late afternoon. For the rest of the day, the idea of sitting in a nice theater and resting my tired feet became my reward for a day's adventure (which included a trip to Trinty University to see the Book of Kells).

It was too late in the afternoon to get the discount price for the Savoy, so I wound up paying the full nine euros for the sow (about thirteen bucks). As the new big release, Public Enemies was showing in the main auditorium on the ground floor, with doors on either side of the concession area in the lobby. Confusingly I couldn't find the men's room in the lobby. When I asked the ticket taker, he told me the rest rooms were in the auditorium itself. A nice convenience from a different era of cinemas.

The main auditorium was huge---at least thousand seats arranged in a wide fan shape on a substantial pitch. The most interesting feature was that the screen was located at the bottom of the pitch, not raised at all. That meant that anyone in any of the center aisles cast a huge shadow on the screen as they navigated to find a seat. It was like a stereotype of an old movie.

I settled into my confortable seat for what I figured would be a nice couple hours of good-old-fashioned American escapism, quite appropriate for the Fourth of July. Mostly I wasn't disappointed. The acting by Depp and the others was impeccable. I was even impressed by the art direction, and the direction by Michael Mann that gave me the feeling like I was actually back in the 1930s. I could have been much, much worse on that score. I was quite surprised.

Where I felt sort of let down, however, was on the level of the narrative. Atlhough I cared about the characters, I didn't care that much about them. I never really understood what Dillinger's essential quest was, other than to survive as long as possible and keep robbing banks. What was he all about, really? How was his essential quest indicative of something wider and deeper in American society at the time?

Of course I can fill these things in, from what I know about Dillinger, but that's not the point. Something about Mann's directorial style keep the story on a surface level of "Miami Vice" style glamour and romantic glitz. In the end, I felt like I really didn't understand Dillinger at all.

The most impressive thematic element of the story, on the other hand, was the rise of the federal police force, something that Dillinger helped bring about. Today we live in the shadow of this bureaucracy, which now spies on us like we are all gangsters. I would have like to have seen this thematic element elevated to perhaps the center element of the story. Under a different director (and writer), it could have been, and the movie could have become a masterpiece. As it was, it seemed like romanticism overwhelmed any possibility of a deep statement on this topic.

But it was fun enough for the Fourth of July in Ireland.