Josh Trank directs Tom Hardy, Linda Cardinelli and Matt Dillon in this biopic of Al Capone’s last years in exile, under house arrest and suffering from a form of dementia caused by syphilis.

Diapers, carrots, Louis Armstrong, alligators… gold plated Tommy guns! Trank is clearly a director of some unrestrained and unfocused ambition – in Capone’s fleeting superior moments he apes Kubrick and Visconti effectively. I’m going to bet that like Cimino in the Eighties his options are growing desperately limited now as to who will fund his erratic and easy to criticise visions. This gangster fudge wallows in an often incomprehensible and sometimes risible performance from the usually bold Hardy. Some strong visuals aside, you do have to wonder about some of the editing choices, some of acting choices and some of the “how many scenes can we end with the lead shitting himself?” choices. To quote Fonzo himself in one of his rare moments of lucidity… “THAT’S DISGUSTING!!!” This might end up a cult classic in a decade or so time, which is a genuine shame for all involved. I wanted this to be good and you can tell they did too.

4

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