Black Mass (MA). Director: Scott Cooper. Starring: Johnny Depp, Joel Edgerton, Benedict Cumberbatch, Peter Sarsgaard, David Harbour, Jesse Plemons, Juno Temple. 122 minutes
I've long been an admirer of Johnny Depp as a film actor — particularly during his 1990s heyday. Depp's emo riff on Frankenstein's monster in Edward Scissorhands, his suitably deranged take on the great 'bad' Hollywood filmmaker Ed Wood, and his manic portrayal of Hunter S. Thompson avatar Raoul Duke in Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas, all displayed an uncanny mastery of his verbal and physical toolkit, as he brought equal parts lunacy, humanity and authenticity to these cartoonish characters.
Yet in recent years, the Depp bag of tricks seems to have grown threadbare. It's not that his skill has abated, necessarily. It's just that over the past decade or so, through his incessant collaborations with Tim Burton (a once fruitful creative partnership that has grown stale) and the interminable Pirates of the Caribbean franchise, Depp has exposed himself as an actor of endless technical ability, and little depth. In the case of more serious efforts, such as his latest, Black Mass, it is to the film's great detriment.
Depp's portrayal here of James 'Whitey' Bulger, the real-life Boston ganster who for two decades (from 1975) thrived under the misguided protection of the FBI, strikes an extremely effective sinister note — and barely strays from it throughout the film's two-hour running time. Early in the film, we are told that a personal tragedy changed Whitey for the worse, and for good; said tragedy plays out on-screen, yet Depp's Bulger seems to be the same sadistic bastard either side of this alleged turning point.
Committed though the performance might be, this lack of depth robs relationships of resonance, and the film of complexity. This is true especially of Bulger's relationship with his politician brother, Billy (Cumberbatch). Sure, the fact that Cumberbatch and Depp bear no physical resemblance whatsoever doesn't help matters. But more than this, there is no chemistry to speak of, to convince the audience for even a second that these two are brothers who happen to be on very different life trajectories.
In truth, Black Mass is bustling with actors who step up to steal Depp's thunder. Sarsgaard appears as a jumpy, devious minion; Harbour as Connolly's skittish accomplice in the FBI; an under-utilised Plemons (Breaking Bad's epitome of evil, Todd) as a sinister Bulger protege; and a scene-stealing Temple as a chatty, doomed prostitute. Depp,