Who would have thought Hollywood could have this kind of effect on us?
Much of southern Wisconsin was in a flurry this week as Universal Studios arrived first in Columbus, and then in Darlington, to film scenes for "Public Enemies," a crime drama starring Johnny Depp and Christian Bale in the story of John Dillinger.
Spectators flocked to filming sites to catch a glimpse of the action (or actually, the inaction. Making movies is a pretty tedious process, with lots of downtime as equipment is readied.) Spending the afternoon to talk with star-struck onlookers in Darlington Wednesday, even Times photographer Brenda Steurer and I had a hard time walking away before we (finally) got a glimpse of Depp.
And while it's very cool that the Lafayette County Courthouse courtroom is used as a set and that local people got spots as extras, my interest in the move goes beyond that.
My interest even goes beyond getting a change to see the uber-sexy Mr. Depp. Really.
My interest is in Mr. Dillinger, the classic American anti-hero who captured my imagination long ago.
Dillinger was a ruthless, vicious Depression-era gangster who robbed banks and eluded government agents, leaving a trail of innocent victims in his wake.
But the American public was willing to overlook these transgressions. After all, average American citizens had lost their fortunes just a few years before when the stock market crashed and banks closed. The banks, and the government, had failed them, too. There were reports that Dillinger, in the process of robbing banks, also destroyed mortgage records, further enhancing his image as a modern day Robin Hood.
A quick recap of Dillinger's blitzkreig, taken from "Gangster Holidays," a book about gangsters in Wisconsin's Northwoods written by Tom Hollatz, shows a fascinating character.
Dillinger's career was surprisingly short-lived for someone so infamous 70 years later. At age 21, he and a partner badly beat a grocery store owner in a robbery attempt, a crime for which Dillinger served nine years in the Indiana State Prison.
In prison, he meet up with experienced bank robbers who helped him plan heists upon their release. Within four months of his release in 1933, Dillinger had robbed eight banks and helped his pals escape. When Dillinger was captured a month later, in October 1933, and held in the county jail in Lima, Ohio, his gang helped him out by killing the sheriff so Dillinger could escape.
The next 10 months were a whirlwind of violence. Dillinger and his gang swept the Midwest, robbing banks and police arsenals, killing 10 people and wounding seven others. They fled to Florida and then Tucson, where Dillinger was recognized and extradited to Indiana for murder.
But Dillinger wasn't in jail for long: Within months, he fooled guards with a gun he had whittled from wood. He stole the sheriff's car, and for the first time, committed a federal offense when he drove it across the Indiana-Illinois state line. Now J. Edgar Hoover and his new FBI were in the act.
The next day, March 4, 1934, Dillinger picked up his girlfriend and headed for St. Paul, where he met up with his gang. They drove to South Dakota and robbed a bank, then to Iowa, where they hit another before holing up in St. Paul.
But the Feds were hot in Dillinger's tail. There was one thrilling escape from G-men after another. In April, they fled to Little Bohemia, a resort on Little Star Lake in the far reaches of northern Wisconsin.
It is here that my affinity for the Northwoods, and especially the area of Vilas County around Manitowish Waters, draws me to Dillinger.
If you go to Little Bohemia, now a supper club, you can see bullet holes in the walls from the shootout that ensued when the Feds showed up to take Dillinger, dead or alive. You can sit in the bar and imagine Dillinger playing cards with Baby Face Nelson or Pretty Boy Floyd.
You can just see Dillinger, or a least the Hollywood version of Dillinger, barreling down the twisted roads that cut through the towering pine forests in his getaway car, Tommy guns blazing, his rouged-cheek girl at this side.
Dillinger escaped that night, but in the confusion three innocent bystanders were shot. Hoover stepped up the pressure to get Dillinger. Three months later, on a hot July night, Dillinger was gunned down as he left the air-conditioned comfort of the Biograph Theater in Chicago. A friend, the lady in the red dress (it was actually orange), had betrayed him and tipped off the FBI.
What a story - the stuff legends are made of. And something tells me Depp will be perfect as Dillinger - he's an expert at fringe characters.
I rarely go to movies anymore. But I will definitely go to the theater to see "Public Enemies."
And not just for Johnny Depp. Really.
- Mary Jane Grenzow is the features editor for The Monroe Times. She can be reached at mgrenzow@themonroetimes.com.
Much of southern Wisconsin was in a flurry this week as Universal Studios arrived first in Columbus, and then in Darlington, to film scenes for "Public Enemies," a crime drama starring Johnny Depp and Christian Bale in the story of John Dillinger.
Spectators flocked to filming sites to catch a glimpse of the action (or actually, the inaction. Making movies is a pretty tedious process, with lots of downtime as equipment is readied.) Spending the afternoon to talk with star-struck onlookers in Darlington Wednesday, even Times photographer Brenda Steurer and I had a hard time walking away before we (finally) got a glimpse of Depp.
And while it's very cool that the Lafayette County Courthouse courtroom is used as a set and that local people got spots as extras, my interest in the move goes beyond that.
My interest even goes beyond getting a change to see the uber-sexy Mr. Depp. Really.
My interest is in Mr. Dillinger, the classic American anti-hero who captured my imagination long ago.
Dillinger was a ruthless, vicious Depression-era gangster who robbed banks and eluded government agents, leaving a trail of innocent victims in his wake.
But the American public was willing to overlook these transgressions. After all, average American citizens had lost their fortunes just a few years before when the stock market crashed and banks closed. The banks, and the government, had failed them, too. There were reports that Dillinger, in the process of robbing banks, also destroyed mortgage records, further enhancing his image as a modern day Robin Hood.
A quick recap of Dillinger's blitzkreig, taken from "Gangster Holidays," a book about gangsters in Wisconsin's Northwoods written by Tom Hollatz, shows a fascinating character.
Dillinger's career was surprisingly short-lived for someone so infamous 70 years later. At age 21, he and a partner badly beat a grocery store owner in a robbery attempt, a crime for which Dillinger served nine years in the Indiana State Prison.
In prison, he meet up with experienced bank robbers who helped him plan heists upon their release. Within four months of his release in 1933, Dillinger had robbed eight banks and helped his pals escape. When Dillinger was captured a month later, in October 1933, and held in the county jail in Lima, Ohio, his gang helped him out by killing the sheriff so Dillinger could escape.
The next 10 months were a whirlwind of violence. Dillinger and his gang swept the Midwest, robbing banks and police arsenals, killing 10 people and wounding seven others. They fled to Florida and then Tucson, where Dillinger was recognized and extradited to Indiana for murder.
But Dillinger wasn't in jail for long: Within months, he fooled guards with a gun he had whittled from wood. He stole the sheriff's car, and for the first time, committed a federal offense when he drove it across the Indiana-Illinois state line. Now J. Edgar Hoover and his new FBI were in the act.
The next day, March 4, 1934, Dillinger picked up his girlfriend and headed for St. Paul, where he met up with his gang. They drove to South Dakota and robbed a bank, then to Iowa, where they hit another before holing up in St. Paul.
But the Feds were hot in Dillinger's tail. There was one thrilling escape from G-men after another. In April, they fled to Little Bohemia, a resort on Little Star Lake in the far reaches of northern Wisconsin.
It is here that my affinity for the Northwoods, and especially the area of Vilas County around Manitowish Waters, draws me to Dillinger.
If you go to Little Bohemia, now a supper club, you can see bullet holes in the walls from the shootout that ensued when the Feds showed up to take Dillinger, dead or alive. You can sit in the bar and imagine Dillinger playing cards with Baby Face Nelson or Pretty Boy Floyd.
You can just see Dillinger, or a least the Hollywood version of Dillinger, barreling down the twisted roads that cut through the towering pine forests in his getaway car, Tommy guns blazing, his rouged-cheek girl at this side.
Dillinger escaped that night, but in the confusion three innocent bystanders were shot. Hoover stepped up the pressure to get Dillinger. Three months later, on a hot July night, Dillinger was gunned down as he left the air-conditioned comfort of the Biograph Theater in Chicago. A friend, the lady in the red dress (it was actually orange), had betrayed him and tipped off the FBI.
What a story - the stuff legends are made of. And something tells me Depp will be perfect as Dillinger - he's an expert at fringe characters.
I rarely go to movies anymore. But I will definitely go to the theater to see "Public Enemies."
And not just for Johnny Depp. Really.
- Mary Jane Grenzow is the features editor for The Monroe Times. She can be reached at mgrenzow@themonroetimes.com.
