Let’s be clear about it – the idea of ‘post truth’ and ‘alternative facts’ is only playing catch-up with Hollywood. Clyde Barrow was a murderous thug, not the handsome larrikin portrayed by Warren Beatty, while Burt Lancaster’s kind if misunderstood Birdman of Alcatraz was a brutal and callous killer. But American cinema’s love of violence and its juvenile championing of the wronged outsider continue unabated and are rewarded with bursting box-office profits. Ben Affleck has directed and stars in a movie about a gangster who is really just a nice guy with a penchant for shooting people – and the body count is astronomical.
Set in the prohibition era, his character, Joe Coughlin, is a petty crim in Boston who makes it big as a bootlegger, crowning his achievements by undertaking the construction of a grotesque casino, à la James Packer. His bloodstrewn career is justified by a throwaway line at the beginning in which Joe, whose narration is heard throughout, explains that a lot of good men got killed in WWI because they were following orders, so henceforth he would not follow orders. Unfortunately for Joe, he bites off more than he can chew when he bonks the blonde who belongs to the king-pin of Boston’s Irish crew (a barely credible scenario, but it’s Affleck’s screenplay, so he can do what he likes). Forced into an alliance with the Mob, he is sent south to Florida with his loyal sidekick Dion (Chris Messina), to safeguard his boss’s supply of rum and, needless to say, trouble accompanies him at every turn.
It is a rambling, messy story that is most interesting when dealing with Joe’s confrontation with the Ku Klux Klan (a perfectly hideous performance from Matthew Maher) and the unforeseen problem of the pretty preacher (Elle Fanning) who turns the town against gambling. As a graduate of the Mount Rushmore School of Acting, Affleck grinds you to a pulp by the time the big shoot-out erupts and, in truth, it’s Dion’s vintage black-and-yellow convertible that steals the show – it’s gorgeous.
For four decades The Echo has printed the stories some people loved, some people hated, and some pretended not to read. If you want us to keep telling the truth, the real truth, not the sugar-coated version. We’ll need your support to keep the presses rolling. 
