Playing Rocky Sullivan, a too-many times loser, Cagney reaches inside himself to find pathos, charisma, self-belief and native street smarts. Rocky is a man used to running the show, accustomed to wielding his wit and influence in a hugely beneficial fashion. The dilemma facing Rocky when he walks out of prison, after a long stretch inside, is that his bonds of criminal honour are held in an obsolete currency. Friend and foe alike have abandoned him, forgotten and ignored in public and in private. Even worse, his supposed partner and lawyer James Frazier (Humphrey Bogart) has hooked up with Mac Keefer (George Bancroft) and danced the double cross two-step. Now Rocky's alone and powerless, or that's what Frazier would like to think.
The factor that makes Rocky's tale believable is that Angels with Dirty Faces teaches us about his influences. Right at the beginning we catch sight of Rocky hanging out with his best pal Jerry Connolly, talking quick and in the loop of petty theft. Suddenly this perfect world is crushed and Rocky heads off to juvenile detention, while Jerry remains free; on the falling of a tossed dime rests the direction of a man's life. In short order the friends diverge, Rocky rising rapidly through the criminal ranks. Michael Curtiz, as director, ensures that this prologue is perfectly timed and focused, helping us to understand the forces shaping Rocky without taking too much from the meat of the story. It's a journey efficient, economical and informative, preparing us for the times to come.
Launching with such force, Angels with Dirty Faces showcases Cagney on incendiary form, marshalling his formidable talent. When you or I look at Rocky, we can read so much from the way he walks, how he talks and the light in his eyes. He's desperate for a relationship, whether it's with his old buddy Jerry (Pat O'Brien), back-stabbing Frazier or wary but helpless to resist Laury Ferguson (Ann Sheridan). Rocky wants to fit in, to be accepted, almost more than anything; he hopes enough to make it happen. Yet above this he detests being tricked and taken for a sap, especially when it comes to a deal thought to be sealed and settled. This is the root of his downfall, the trigger of the gun that blows Rocky away; with this he even loses the Dead End Kids. Young ruffians, the only ones watching Rocky for leadership and a role model, eventually even they reluctantly abandon his misguided care.
Luckily for the audience, Rowland Brown's story is far more complex than the simple gangster melodrama trappings might suggest. The dominant characters are fully rounded, there's more to them than an initial impression might suggest. Rocky isn't just a mean gangster, he's also a man visiting his old neighbourhood, remembering childhood adventures. With the Dead End Kids he's funny, forgiving and blind to his own impact on malleable teenagers. O'Brien, a little more constrained by his position nevertheless talks frankly and without fear; as much as he loves Rocky, Jerry won't sacrifice the future for the past. This is the emotional dynamic central to Angels with Dirty Faces. Curtiz pays less attention to the smaller roles, yet Sheridan and Bogart do quite well, pulling Rocky in different directions all at once.
Given its age and pretension to socially engineer, it's not surprising that the movie has trouble communicating with a modern audience. The sharp lines have bite but their content is past its sell-by date. What saves Angels with Dirty Faces is Cagney and the complexity of his role. From the moment he leaves jail it's clear that Rocky is headed in one direction only, the single uncertainty being the timescale. His descent is inevitable because time has made him an outsider and, as such, Rocky will destroy what he can't have. Technically, Sol Polito's photography attains his usual standard of excellence while Max Steiner's score underpins the action scenes without disrupting them. This is a fine and memorable film, a production weakened only by its handling of the chosen subject matter.