An account of the notorious gangster, John Dillinger, from midway through his bank-robbing career up until his final shootout outside the Biograph Theatre.
Three, four, five and six.

Don’t worry like that.
I don’t want any mistakes
made with my money.
If you make mistakes
with my money,
I’ll take my business
-Wouldn’t like that,
would you, dearie?
-No, ma’am.
What are you smiling at me
like that for, young man?
I don’t believe I know you.
DILLINGER: No, ma’am.
But whenever I see money,
I smile that way.
You got a nice
smile too, miss.
I’d like to withdraw
my entire account.
WOMAN: You’re entire account?
-Yes, ma’am, the whole thing.
-And your name?
John, John Dillinger.
All right, everybody!
Hold it right where you are.
-This is a robbery.
Charlie, get that back vault!
Harry, clear off the counters.
-Watch ’em, Homer. Watch ’em!
-Let go!
Everybody on
your stomachs, now!
-When I say it, I mean it!
You, miss, turn over!
This ain’t no board
of directors meeting!
Get in there.
Don’t nobody get nervous!
Ain’t got nothing to fear.
You’re being robbed
by the John Dillinger gang,
that’s the best there is.
These few dollars
you lose here today,
they’re gonna buy you stories
to tell your children
and grandchildren.
This could be one of
the big moments in your life.
Don’t make it your last.
♪ We’re in the money
♪ We’re in the money
♪ We’ve got a lot of
what it takes to get along

♪ We’re in the money
♪ The skies are sunny
♪ Old man depression
you are through,
you done us wrong

♪ We never see a headline
’bout a bread line today

♪ And when
we see the landlord

♪ We can look that guy
right in the eye

♪ We’re in the money
♪ Come on, my honey
♪ Let’s spend it,
lend it, send it rollin’ along

♪ We never see a headline
’bout a bread line today

♪ And when
we see the landlord

♪ We can look that guy
right in the eye

♪ We’re in the money
♪ Come on, my honey
♪ Let’s spend it, lend it,
send it rollin’ along ♪

PURVIS: On June 17th, 1933,
in Kansas City,

five of my finest men
were ambushed

escorting convicted
bank robber Frank Nash

to the Federal Penitentiary.
My men died
like dogs in the gutter.

And I swore
personal vengeance.

Mr. Hoover told me he wanted
these rats that
did it exterminated.

And that was my only job.
Charles Arthur
“Pretty Boy” Floyd.

George “Machine Gun” Kelly.
Lester “Baby Face” Nelson.
Wilbur Underhill,
the Tri-State Terror.

Handsome Jack Klutas.
And, of course,
John Dillinger.

Homer Van Meter,
Harry Pierpont,
Charlie Mackley, the old man.
That’s the Dillinger gang.
Course, there are others,
but those four
are the ones who’ll stay.
We can’t touch Dillinger.
No Federal offense.
He doesn’t deserve
to be there.
I don’t anybody up there
I can’t legally shoot.
Shoot Dillinger
and we’ll figure out
a way to make it legal.
-Want a cigar, Sam?
-No, they’re not good for you.
I like a Montecristo.
They’re wonderful.
I don’t smoke these
all the time, you know.
They cost
a half-dollar a piece.
Well, I hope not.
You know who gave me
these cigars?
Ray Caffrey give ’em to me
just before he got
his head blown
off in Kansas City.
They were for my birthday.
And I intend
to smoke one of these
over each of those
men’s dead bodies.
I ain’t crazy, Johnny.
There was a fat
little bank here
back in ’25.
The whole county was rich.
Everything was here in ’25,
weren’t it, Charlie?
Shut up, Eddie.
You’re paid to drive the car.
Charlie Mackley’s robbed
more banks than you’ll ever
see in your life.
So shut up
and drive the car!
Hi, there.
I said, hi, there!
-I heard you the first time.
-Oh, you did, huh?
You work here?
Mmm-hmm, I sure ain’t in it
for the pleasure.
Nice fella.
When the bank close down?
Mmm-hmm, when they run out
of money. What do you think?
Everything just up
and disappeared, huh?
What do you want
to know for?
Well, me and these here
friends of mine
are on a three-state
crime spree.
-That’s so?
Except we can’t
find no banks.
That breaks my heart.
-This is turnin’
into a radio show.
Worse yet, we’re runnin’ out
of gas lookin’ for one.
Now, you fill that car up,
you understand?
Fill it yourself.
I said, fill it up.
HARRY: Oh, what you
gonna do now, Homer?
Can’t do that.
HARRY: Do somethin’!
What are you doin’?
Huh? Huh?
This son…
This son of a bitch is crazy.
Just give him some money,
and let’s get out of here.
EDDIE: He’s gonna do it.
Here. I don’t want
your damned gas anyway.
CHARLES: What did you give him
the money for, Homer?
HARRY: He’s paying him
for the water.
Son of a bitch.
Step on it.
I got his gum ball machine.
Step on it, Eddie.
Who do you think I look like?
Well, you look like
Douglas Fairbanks,
as a matter of fact.
Now, can I have
my drink back?
They don’t serve
Indians in here.
-You said you was an Indian.
-Yeah, I’m half Indian.
The other half’s French,
and that side drinks.
Hey, you!
Who do you think
you are, anyhow?
I’m Douglas Fairbanks.
Sure as you’re standing there.
That’s who I am.
You’re Douglas Fairbanks.
You don’t know
who in the hell I am, do you?
Look, pal.
You can be whoever you want.
As far as I’m concerned
you’re Douglas Fairbanks.
-Douglas Fairbanks.
-I’m John Dillinger!
-Sure you are.
-Stand up here.
Put it up here!
I’m John Dillinger!
Now, stand up here,
and put your money on the bar!
Come on! Get it up here!
I don’t like waiting around,
you know?
Come on, miss! Get up here!
Dump it out.
Now get over there
on the floor.
-Uh, you want me to get down?
-Shut up!
Don’t you ever do nothing?
Can’t you listen?
-What’s your name?
-Billie… Billie Frechette.
-You gonna come
with me, Billie.
-Whatever you say.
Get down!
You get down there and
get that money off the bar.
All of you.
Look at my face,
you sons of bitches.
You’re gonna
remember this face.
I’m John Dillinger.
You’re gonna pick up
your newspaper tomorrow,
and you’re
gonna be readin’ it.
And you’re gonna see my face.
I’m John Dillinger.
And I don’t want you to
ever forget it.
Gimme that money.
WOMAN: I won $10, give it…
This here is Harry Pierpont.
Homer Van Meter.
Charlie Mackley.
That’s Eddie.
He’s the driver.
Thieves and killers.
-You head of them?
This is Billie Frechette.
She’s an injun.
Don’t ever give her a drink.
That’s some dish.
Douglas Fairbanks, huh?
Now you stay there.
Is that clear?
-(SHOUTING) Is that clear?
That Indian’s
got beautiful legs.
Yeah, I like ’em fine.
Well, I don’t care
what they look like.
John picks up some broad
in the street,
brings her up here.
I don’t know
who she is.
I don’t like it
and I don’t trust it.
it’s easy for you to talk.
You’ve got Mary with you.
What’s a man
supposed to do, huh?
I rob banks for a living.
What do you do?
Dillinger makes a fool
of himself over broads.
Treats ’em like movie stars.
I don’t trust a man
who makes a fool of
himself over women.
He’s a fool for love.
Dealer takes three.
Don’t give me that
dime-a-dance crap,
you’re a whore.
Don’t call me that.
Nobody’s gonna
look down on you
for something like that.
Whorin’s the oldest profession
in the world.
There were whores
before there
were bank robbers.
There’s nothing
to be ashamed about
if you get the right price.
-Don’t do that again.
-Don’t call me that then.
What? Whore?
You see what I mean.
Huh? Huh?
No discipline.
He lets himself go too easily.
I don’t trust it.
One of these
days a broad’s gonna
let him down.
A broad always does.
PURVIS: John Dillinger
was still out of
my jurisdiction.

I’d get my chance at him,
but there were plenty of other
public rats on
the Federal list,

and they had to be
cleared out first.

One of these
was Wilbur Underhill,

also known as
the Tri-State Terror.

He’d gotten
married in Illinois
the previous night

and was enjoying his honeymoon
holed up in
an abandoned farmhouse

surrounded by state police
and Federal agents.

I arrived late,
but had
the intentions of delivering
my wedding present personally.

-Hi, Sam.
How long since you seen him?
Well, he shot two state cops
about a half hour ago.
We fired
for 15 minutes straight.
Put 2,000 rounds in there.
PURVIS: What about the girl?
SAM: She’s in there.
She’s gotta be dead, too.
-Vest. Get me a vest.
I can’t get to my cigar.
MAN: Hey, Willie, come on!
Let’s go look!
SAM: Okay, great, Chief.
That was the most
courageous thing
I’ve ever seen in my life.
It’s guts. Sheer guts.
-How did the broad get it?
-He did it.
He couldn’t go
without her.
That makes another one
for you, Mr. Purvis.
J. Edgar Hoover will get
another feather in his hat.
Another scalp.
My cigar’s gone out.
Well, if nothing
gets in our way,
we’ll be in Tucson
by Tuesday night.
Now get all
the rooms in one hotel
but on different floors.
Have Billie check in
an hour or two later
and the rest the next day.
If we all come in there
together, it’s gonna look
like a convention.
What’s wrong with her?
MARY: She isn’t going.
She wants to go
back to her mother
up on the injun reservation.
Well, what the hell’s
the matter with her?
Now that’s all I need.
Billie, look at me.
Come on. Look at Harry.
(SIGHS) So you had a fight.
Huh? Huh?
-Mary and I have fights.
-She ain’t going.
HARRY: Does John know that?
Well, I ain’t gonna tell him.
Well, go on
and get out of here.
I got a bank to rob.
How do I look?
Oh, you look gorgeous.
Be careful, Harry, huh?
Get outta here.
Let’s make
a little withdrawal.
Let’s hit it.
BOY: Hey, Billy!
Billy, wait for me!
MAN: Just stay
where you are, Eddie.
-Oh, Jesus, God.
We’re in trouble.
Stay calm, Eddie.
They will come out.
Come on. Come on.
-Hold on, Eddie.
Jesus, Harry, let’s go.
Goddamn it!
-MAN: Come on, Eddie.
-Come on, Eddie!
Move it! Let’s go!
Look out, Eddie!
-Goddamn it!
Come on!
-Charlie’s hit.
Shot all to hell.
-I’m okay, I’m okay.
-Hang on.
-WOMAN: Get the police!
Get the police.
Somebody get the police!
MAN: Eddie, just take it easy.
Eddie, watch it!
HARRY: Eddie, get over here,
you stupid son of a bitch!
-DILLINGER: There’s Harry!
Come on, Harry!
Goddamn it!
Down! Get down!
Scram, John! Forget him!
PURVIS: Dillinger
killed his first man
in east Chicago.

A bank guard
named O’Malley.

And from now on
there was no turning back.

His gang split
up and fled west
to lick their wounds.

And as of yet, they had
committed no federal crime.

But I knew then
that I’d get him
sooner or later.

I had the time.
Time was one thing
I had plenty of.

When you bury me, Johnny,
put a name with me.
I don’t just want to
go under without no name.
Bullet went right through
your stomach, Charlie.
If it hit a bone
you’d really be in trouble.
I don’t just want to go under
with no name.
Come on.
You ain’t going nowhere.
DILLINGER: I put no name
on this grave because
Charlie Mackley
was a well-known man.
His name was like that of
Butch Cassidy, Sam Bass,
Cole Younger,
Jesse James.
If I put a name
on this grave,
some old coot would
come along some day
and they’d just dig up
old Charlie’s bones
and sell ’em to the tourists.
That’s why there ain’t
no name on this grave.
He’s just an old man,
under the ground.
The next big break I had
was in Memphis.

George “Machine Gun” Kelly.
A small-time hood
and petty bank robber

who had risen
to national prominence

for his part
in the Urschel kidnapping.

He was important to me because
he had a name everyone knew,

even if he didn’t
deserve it.

And what’s more,
he gave us a name that day

that became
part of the language.

Don’t do it!
Don’t shoot, G-men, please!
Please don’t shoot me!
Don’t shoot, G-men!
-You George Kelly?
-Yeah. I’m Kelly.
Please don’t do it, G-man.
Purvis, FBI.
G-men, huh?
I like that.
Government man.
Mr. Hoover’s
gonna like that too.
See that out there?
BILLIE: Where?
It’s all desert to me.
No, there’s a town out there.
Just about the horizon.
That right there,
that’s Mexico.
BILLIE: Mexico.
It’s just waiting.
All my life I wanted
to be a bank robber.
Carry a gun,
wear a mask.
Now that it’s happened,
I guess I’m just about
the best bank robber
they ever had.
And I sure am happy.
Is that what you wanted to be
when you were a kid?
My buddies wanted
to be firemen
or farmers or policemen,
something like that. Not me.
I just wanted to
steal people’s money.
I bet you wanted
to have your picture
in every post office too.
I sure did.
All we’ve got to do, Billie,
is drive down that road.
We got $70,000
in the back.
You could do it
if you wanted to, Johnny.
All the way to Guadalajara.
Live the rest of my life
like a pharaoh.
No, I couldn’t do that.
Yeah. What would
your public think?
♪ I’m in love with you, honey

♪ Say you love me too, honey
♪ No one else will do, honey
♪ Seems funny, but it’s true ♪
PURVIS: Handsome Jack Klutas,
a kidnapper and murderer,

ran with
the Barker-Karpis gang.

Had a college degree
and used to play football.

He was one of the most
vicious killers of his day.

I knew
I’d never take him alive.

I didn’t try too hard neither.
for this picture
I wish you’d not smile.
Now, all right hold it.
-Got a good one.
I collect ’em.
Nice place.
Nice party. Nice folks.
Como estas, amigo?
And ay, ay, ay to you.
Gentlemen, I’d like you
to meet Pearl.
She sings
at the Golden Sombrero.
-Hi, Pearl.
Show business, huh?
-I’ll bet you have
a glamorous life.
-This is Art Long.
-That’s Sam Phillips.
-I do business with
them occasionally.
Oh, I’m sorry.
That’s their wives,
Trixie and Angel.
You kind of look like
Dillinger, Mr. Long.
Did anybody
ever tell you that?
no, you mean John Dillinger,
the criminal?
Some folks think I look like
Douglas Fairbanks.
I like Dillinger better.
He does look like him.
I’ve told him that
a thousand times.
You know, John,
with Charlie and Eddie gone,
we’re gonna need
someone else.
I ain’t never seen
a bank the three of us
couldn’t rob, have you, Harry?
You startin’ to
believe that stuff
they put in the newspapers.
Don’t you?
You say them fellas
give you this $100 bill
to carry their valises
into the hotel, eh?
And they was heavy, eh?
And that’s them standin’
over there for sure?
Take the combination of them
fellas standin’ over there,
and them shiny cars,
and them fancy-lookin’ girls,
means they’s all criminals.
Why you say that?
Decent folk
don’t live that good.
Now you mosey on over there
and take a closer look.
Did you get
a good look at ’em?
Close as I am to you.
Oh, my God!
I like that song.
Well, don’t look at me.
Want to dance?
-Do you know how?
-Of course I do.
Kind of.
It’s a 12-gauge, Mr.
I’m Big Jim Wollard.
I’ve killed 35 men in my day.
And I wouldn’t mind
if you were number 36.
So let’s go, sonny.
St. Paul, baby. St. Paul.
REPORTER 1: Is that him?
REPORTER 2: There he is.
REPORTER 3: I think
he’s in the second car there.
REPORTER 4: You’ve got
a statement for us, sir?
REPORTER 4: Mr. Dillinger,
how you feeling?
REPORTER 5: Why aren’t you
wearing a hat, Johnny?
Are you goin’ collegiate?
Somebody stole my hat.
REPORTER 6: What do you think
about the president, Johnny?
I like him.
I like the new deal
and I like the NRA.
I like especially
the help he’s been
giving the banks lately.
What about social security?
it could ruin the country.
If people want money,
they ought to go to work.
REPORTER 5: Did you kill
patrolman O’Malley?
I never killed
anybody in my life.
I just steal money.
You been known
to carry a gun and use it.
Well, it is dangerous work.
What do you
think of this jail?
Well, it’s a nice place.
Nice people.
Ain’t no jail can hold me.
-It’s an exercise in futility.
-Say that again?
It’s an exercise in futility.
What do you think of the DA?
I like him.
I like the Police
Commissioner, too.
I think we’re all
gonna get along fine here,
don’t you, ma’am?
How do you do?
PHOTOGRAPHER: Put your arm
around him, Mr. Estill.
We got
the second column again.
“Federal Bureau
of Investigation,
“Midwest Chief
Melvin Purvis
“claims he’ll
have Pretty Boy Floyd
within a month.
“Commends Texas Ranger
on killing of
Bonnie and Clyde.”
Remind me to send that man
a box of cigars.
You already did.
This sort of thing isn’t good,
you know.
It isn’t good at all.
What kind of thing?
I mean this Dillinger punk
gets all the headlines.
(GRUNTS) Thank you, Dan.
We take second column.
That kind of thing’s
gonna have to change.
Make more personal appearances
when you can.
Talk to people.
Let the public
know who you are.
This whole thing
isn’t just
catchin’ these rats.
Well, that’s all I want to do.
That’s all
the director wants me to do.
Well, I don’t mean to cast
aspersions on J. Edgar,
but he was never a man
to shun the public eye.
BOY: Bang! Bang!
PURVIS: Hey, kid! Kid!
That’s right, you.
What are you playin’?
Cops and robbers.
-What are you,
the cop or the robber?
Oh, crime doesn’t pay.
I bet your dad
told you that.
-I ain’t got no dad.
-Sorry to hear that.
Every kid should have a dad.
You know who I am?
You really don’t know
who I am?
I’m Melvin Purvis,
the G-man.
You ain’t him.
Want to see my badge?
I bet you’d like
to see my gun.
I got to unload it.
Not that I don’t trust you.
But if something happened,
I’d always think of you
when I looked at a little boy.
You got a little boy too?
No, sir, I’m like you.
I don’t have anybody.
Here, hold it.
How does it feel?
It feels heavy.
When you grow up,
it won’t feel heavy.
You can have one
just like it.
You can have
a badge too.
Wouldn’t want to be
a G-man.
Well, why not?
BOY: Have to go to school
to be a G-man.
Well, you got to
go to school!
John Dillinger
don’t go to school.
John Dillinger’s in jail!
Hi, boys.
Open up, friend.
That ain’t real.
You want to lose the top
of your head findin’ out?
Put that shotgun over there.
Butt first
or I’ll blow your throat out.
Unlock it.
Don’t look at it!
Unlock it!
Step back a little.
Where’d you get that?
From my lawyer.
What the hell you
think a lawyer’s for?
-Either of you boys married?
-I am.
All right, you get in there.
You’re stayin’.
You eat this.
Going with us, Jack?
Ah, too tired.
All right.
Why, evening, Mr. Dillinger.
Howdy, what’s your name?
Reed Youngblood.
-You’re in for murder,
aren’t you?
-Yeah, sir.
Who’d you kill, Reed?
I killed my wife
and a Bible salesman.
I caught ’em
in flagrante dilecto.

Let him out.
He’s doin’ it!
The son of a bitch
is gonna make it!
More power to you, Johnny.
John, open up
these cell gates.
Take me with you, Dillinger.
A break out, baby!
All right, Warden.
The garage.
They won’t shoot me
to get you in here, Johnny.
But I can’t control
those National Guard boys.
Don’t you worry
about a thing.
Hell, Warden,
they’d like to see me make it.
Get over here.
from under there, mister.
Can’t you see I’m busy?
Haven’t you got
manners or sense enough
to know when a man is?
WARDEN: You better come out
from under there, Cook.
I’ve seen you
in the newspapers!
You’re him!
What’s the fastest car
you got in here?
Mr. Drubb’s car
is the fastest,
but Mr. Grieve’s Ford
is the strongest on hills.
I’ll take the sheriff’s car.
He won’t care.
He sure will!
He’s a friend of mine.
Now get on over there.
-Get behind that wheel
before I’ll kill you.
-Yes, sir.
Get over there, Warden.
You three!
I want you to get out there
and open up that garage door.
We’re leavin’ here
in two minutes.
I want everybody out there
at attention.
‘Cause if they’re not,
I’m gonna cut the warden
up like spaghetti.
-You get that?
-Yes, sir.
Tat, tat, tat.
Go on.
Give me a good
head start, boy.
It’ll be more sportin’.
COMMANDER ON PA: Now, nobody
even think of
making a quick move.

They got innocent men
in them cars.

We’ll get Dillinger.
I’ll guarantee you that.

You just hold still!
Hold still, you hear me!

Now we’ll get him!
MAN: Let’s go!
Hold it. Pull up here.
I want to go in that bank.
I never seen a man
with such gall!
-Back down that alley.
-Ssh! Hold it!
Whatever you’re doing,
ladies and gentlemen, stop!
This is a robbery.
I’m John Dillinger,
most recently on display
down at your local jail.
Don’t be nervous.
Don’t do
anything you’ll regret.
This is going to be one of
the big days in your life.
Don’t make it your last.
Sack it up, honey.
You know what you
can get for this,
don’t you, Youngblood?
I’m already a murderer.
Ha, so I might as well
be famous.

Slow this thing down,
will you?
Tryin’ to get us all killed?
30 or 40 miles an hour
is plenty fast.
One thing I got is time.
Time is one thing
I got plenty of.
I ain’t never heard of it.
What you doing there?
I’m splitting up.
This is where we part company.
What are you
splitting it up for?
Well, I get the most
I’m the one with
the most experience.
Reed here gets more
’cause he’s a con.
You boys are doin’ all right.
There’s more than
$300 apiece for you here.
-How’s that?
-You gotta be crazy.
I ain’t never seen
such gall.
Do you think
I’ll take that money?
I’m sorry, fellows.
I’d split it up better,
but I ain’t got much time.
I ain’t no fool.
-You’re not gonna
keep that money.
-I did the driving.
Well… Depression.
Things are hard.
Yeah. Hard times.
Hard times.
Hard times.
Hard times.
Reed, I’d take you with me,
but you ain’t a pro.
I understand, Mr. Dillinger.
I’ll make it up to you.
-I’ll send you
something for Christmas.
-All right.
COOK: He’ll never live
to see Christmas.
WARDEN: I hope he does.
What about you?
Want to come back with us?
Get you off of death row.
Whoo! Mr. Dillinger!
Mr. Dillinger!
I don’t care if I do die!
I want to die with you,
Mr. Dillinger!
I want to be a bank robber
like you, Mr. Dillinger!
I don’t want to be there
when they get you.
Promise me that
I won’t have to
be there when they get you.
They’re not going to get me.
I just don’t want
to see it.
I just don’t want to
see it, Johnny.
They won’t ever get me.
I may not live forever,
but I’d be a damned fool
not to try.
-Hello. Melvin?
-Yes, hello.

This is John Dillinger.
Well, now,
how are you, Johnny?
I always felt that…
Well, I always felt that
we ought to talk occasionally.
Good. Good.
I’d like to hear from you.

I understand that…
I understand
that you’ve been…

That you got me on drivin’
a stolen car across
the state line, is that right?
Federal offense.
It’s what the paper said.
That’s right, kid.
Not much for a man
of your ability.

-How’d you like the crash out?
-Liked it fine, Johnny.

Yeah! It was great, wasn’t it?
I’ve always
wanted it that way.
Gives me a chance…

How many men you got
on me now, Melvin?
Two, Johnny.
Two good ones.

You and J. Edgar Hoover, huh?
That’s right, kid.
Well, that’s fine.
That’s fine, Melvin.
I like a man
with confidence.
Call whenever you like.
Sure been nice
talkin’ to you.
You can reverse the charges
if you need, kid.

Son of a bitch.
What did he sound like?
-Melvin Purvis.
Don’t you ever
mention that name again.
-Hello, Daddy.
-Hello, Johnny.
-How you been?
-All right.
Dad, this is Billie.
It’s a pleasure, Billie.
Johnny, I never thought well
of what you’ve done.
I still don’t think it’s right
to break the law.
But times being
what they are,
and if all these people
think so highly of you,
welcome home, Son.
I think that’s them, Reed.
Boy, that’s some car.
Hi, Billie!
Hi, Harry.
Nice day.
Mr. Dillinger, how are ya?
How ya been?
John, you took so long,
I didn’t think you
were gonna get here.
-Yeah, everybody here?
-Oh, good to see you,
too, Miss Billie.
-How are you, Reed?
Yeah, they’re all right here.
Come on, down.
What are we having?
Oh, what are we having?
What are we having,
Homer, chicken?
I don’t know.
We brought the potato salad.
-Hi, Homer.
-Hi, Mary.
Let me get this for you.
I don’t believe
you two gentlemen have met.
John Dillinger.
Chuck Floyd.
Pleased to meet you,
Mr. Dillinger.
My pleasure, Floyd.
I’ve always been
a great admirer of yours.
you ain’t no punk yourself.
What chased you out
of Cookson Hills, Floyd?
A lot of things.
They was gettin’ on my folks
and it was hard on ’em.
Then Bonnie and Clyde
ran through there.
Weren’t safe for no one.
Bunch of mad dogs,
that’s what they were.
I ain’t sorry to see ’em go.
Well, small-timers get into it
and ruin it for everybody.
You wanna cut out
this mutual
admiration society?
Wanna get
a couple of things clear.
Lester Nelson.
John Dillinger.
Baby Face Nelson, huh?
I don’t like
to be called that.
Might as well
get that straight right away.
I’ll try to remember that.
-All right.
One thing,
if we’re gonna work together,
I want it understood
that I don’t take no orders.
I believe this is
Mr. Dillinger’s gang.
He ain’t my leader.
I got my own way
of taking things.
I come in shooting,
I kill everyone in sight,
I grab the dough.
Very easy.
Works very well.
You don’t like it,
you get somebody else.
I’ll tell you what.
Let’s you and me go out there
and talk about that.
Anything you want, buster.
-WOMAN: Lester.
-Shut up.
Have some chicken.
-There’s one thing
you gotta learn, kid.
You wanna kill me?
You wanna kill me, punk?
You can’t kill me, punk!
-Get up! Get up!
-NELSON: Stop it.
Get up!
-Leave me alone!
-You little, punk!
-Leave me alone!
-NELSON: Leave me alone.
-I’m immortal, punk!
-Here, take it, punk!
Take it!
Pull the trigger!
You can’t do it!
You can’t do it, can ya?
I’m immortal, you punk!
I’m Dillinger!
Come on, Harry, let’s go!
Who set that alarm?
Who set that alarm?
I’m gonna kill
whoever did that!
I don’t care if
I gotta kill you.
Or you.
Just so long
as I get to kill somebody.
Hey, there’s law outside.
Where? Where?
Get out of the way.
I got him! I got him!
Thank you. Thank you.
DILLINGER: Hey, what would
you want if I had all
the money in the world?
BILLIE: There’s nothing
I really want, Johnny.
-BILLIE: Except maybe…
-Maybe, what?
BILLIE: Maybe go dancing again
with you.
Yeah, that’s what I’d want.
DILLINGER: All right,
if that’s what you want,
that’s what you’ll have.
We’ll go to Chicago
and we’ll go dancing
at the Flamingo Club tonight.
-No, yeah.
You can’t go to Chicago.
Well, if I can go there
to rob banks,
I can go there to
dance with my girl.
Can’t I, huh? Huh? Huh?
Ah, very good. Thank you.
I would like to
take this occasion
to toast
the most beautiful woman
in the whole world.
Is everything
all right, honey?
Everything’s fine, dear.
Champagne makes me dizzy
when I drink it too fast.
It’s the bubbles.
Garcon. Garcon.
I think we should have
the roast leg of lamb.
It’s the most expensive thing
on the menu.
Far table over there.
You sweet thing you.
A friend
sends his regards, monsieur.
Take it away.
-Get it out of here.
PURVIS: I knew sooner or later d
make a mistake.

It came in Mason City, Iowa.
A fast-thinking local sheriff,
spotted Homer Van Meter
by a car outside the bank.

Within minutes,
they were armed,
ready and waiting.

HARRY: It’s bulletproof,
you bastards! (LAUGHING)
MAN: Put it down on the roof.
The roof!
REED: Oh, man,
we done walked into a trap.
Come on, baby!
Let’s go! Let’s go!
They’re out of rounds!
Come on! On the roof!
On the roof!
Behind you, Harry!
Behind you!
Oh, lord have mercy!
What have
we got into here?
DILLINGER: Hurry up, Harry!
Get the goddamn car!
NELSON: Come on!
You can’t touch me!
Come on! Come on!
Come on!
Get it out of here!
REED: The car’s here! Come on!
I’ll cover you, Mr. Dillinger!
Get in the car.
You’ll get it right
where you want to.
MAN: You got the money,
what do you want?
Come on, Mr.
Dillinger! Come on!
I’ll get you, boy.
FLOYD: Watch out, Johnny!
Oh, God!
You’ll be all right, boy.
BILLIE: Johnny?
-BILLIE: Is he all right?
-He’s okay.
DILLINGER: The doctor will be
up here in the morning.
Shot in the stomach.
-It’s okay.
-Who’s in here to help?
What the hell’s
all that crap?
Ain’t there no place
a man can get a night’s sleep?
Rich society punks.
I had those rats now.

They’d been hurt
at Mason City.

They were tired
and beaten and off balance.

At last I was getting a chance
at something I’d dreamed of.

Pretty Boy Floyd,
Baby Face Nelson,
Van Meter,

Pierpont and John Dillinger,
all in one swoop.

I didn’t call
on the local authorities.

I couldn’t
take that chance.

It was ours or no one’s.
Mr. Hoover wanted it that way.

We got lost twice
and one car broke down.

But towards dawn,
we closed on in.

This time
I knew I had that boy.

I wish to hell
he’d pass out again.
If he screams again
like that,
the hunters downstairs
are gonna call the cops.
What the hell do you expect me
to do about it?
Finish him,
I wouldn’t ask any different!
Oh, God, you can’t do that.
Leave the boy be.
-He deserves a chance.
The man deserves a chance.
PURVIS: All right now, men.
I’ll take the front
entrance with you four.
Sam, you take the far side.
Ned, the rear.
Move in slow.
Now, we all know
who we’re looking for.
Wait until first light.
I want
positive identification.
Otherwise, we’ll be
shooting each other.
-Let’s go get ’em.
What the hell’s going on
out here?
Who’s that?
I smell heat!
Get the second far window.
Shut up, goddamn it!
NELSON: Over here, Georgie!
yeah, give me another clip!
Get back in there.
I’ll see you in Kansas City.
DILLINGER: I need some help
on this front window, Harry!
Where the hell is Pretty Boy?
HARRY: I got the ammo!
Let’s go!
Jesus Christ!
I got three cartons
in the trunk!
DILLINGER: Homer, first floor!
Get down!
Get down!
Come on! Come on!
DILLINGER: Damn, it’s jammed.
Give me that!
Try again, you son of a bitch.
Hang on, hang on me, baby.
Son of a bitch.
HARRY: By the woodpile.
Four of ’em.
BILLIE: My foot,
they shot my foot.
NELSON: I see ’em,
I see ’em.
Oh, they shot your toe off.
Is that all?
NELSON: I need some help here,
damn it!
Just get out of here, Johnny!
Get out of here!
-I’ll come back for you.
-You don’t have to say that.
-I’ll be back for you.
-Whatever you say.
Come here, huh?
-30.06. Anybody got any 30.06?
Sorry about this, boy.
NELSON: Eat it, G-man!
-NELSON: Get in, Goddamn it!
-Nelson, let’s go!
Homer, get in there.
Help me!
Run, Johnny!
Run! Run!
Run! Run!
Stand against the wall.
Don’t move again
or you’re dead, mister.
MAN: I don’t know anything
about it. I thought they was
all millionaires.
Dillinger’s girl.
Well, can’t you see
the lady’s foot’s hurt?
Here, Cowley.
Put your arm here.
You’ll never get him.
Yes, I’ll get him.
Why doesn’t it stop bleeding?
Stop bleeding.
I can feel a bone.
It hurts.
It hurts.
NELSON: Will you shut him up?
VAN: You better
shut up yourself,
you little rat,
or I’ll blow the back
of your goddamn head off.
HARRY: I’ve never been
hit bad before.
I gotta get to K…
Kansas city.
Mary. Mary! Oh, Mary!
What’s that?
What’s up there?
HARRY: I’m gettin’ out!
I’m gettin’ out!
Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot!
I’m already hit…
VAN: Harry, Harry!
Son of a bitch!
Goddamn it.
Things ain’t
workin’ out for me today.
Oh, this is so wicked.
(MOANING) No. No, you mustn’t.
-I’ve never let anyone.
-One more kiss.
-What’s a kiss?
No. I mean it, Leroy.
I’m going in, Leroy.
I can’t stand it.
This is wrong.
Not a sound, Leroy.
Now, start this thing up.
Let’s see how fast she’ll go.
How are you, ma’am?
I’m kinda lost.
I can’t find the main road.
I’m kinda hungry too.
I need food
and that jalopy out back.
I can pay you for it.
You’re one of them,
ain’t ya?
Yes, ma’am.
What about the car, ma’am?
Hell, boy,
it ain’t run since ’29.
I don’t want no trouble.
Come on in, boy.
Ah! Boola-boola.
You play football, Leroy?
Sure. Varsity.
Oh, that’s good, that’s good.
What position?
End. Left end.
Oh, yeah?
I was a center.
Oh, yeah?
-For who?
State Pen.
You don’t look big enough
to be a center.
I was big enough, all right.
Don’t you worry about it.
You just drive.
HOMER: Hey, Leroy, did you
ever hear the barbershop yell?
Hit ’em on the chin,
scrape ’em on the jaw,
leave ’em, leave ’em,
raw, raw, raw.
On Wisconsin.
HOMER: What is it?
LEROY: Gas. It must be gas.
Something must be
wrong with the gauge.
HOMER: You better be right,
you little son of a bitch.
Dry. Bone dry!
Must be something wrong
with the gauge!
You better be right, boy.
Get your ass over there.
See for yourself.
You son of a bitch.
Son of a bitch!
Son of a bitch.
Oh, God,
things ain’t
workin’ out for me.
Just a bunch of
goddamn farmers.
Oh! Son of a bitch.
(YELLS) I want help!
Help me, somebody!
Goddamn it!
Things ain’t workin’ out
for me.
I’ve… I think
I’m shot in the lungs.
Will you get a doctor?
You need a Bible?
I’ve sinned.
I have been a sinner,
but I enjoyed it.
And I killed men,
but the dirty sons of bitches
deserved it.
No matter
how I figure it,
it’s too late
for no Bible.
Thank you
just the same, ma’am.
AGENT: There he goes.
Are you Pretty Boy Floyd?
I’m Charles Arthur Floyd.
This is for Kansas City, boy.
I wasn’t in on that.
I swear.
Shouldn’t be lying when
you’re so close to your maker.
You… You must be Purvis.
That’s right.
I’m glad it was you.
Ace Federal agent
Melvin Purvis,

has turned the debacle
at Little Bohemia into
a gang-smasher’s turkey shoot.

Baby Face Nelson,
Pretty Boy Floyd,
Harry Pierpont.

But where is the leader,
public enemy number one,

John Dillinger?
John Dillinger
is believed to be…

WOMAN: Johnny!
-PURVIS: Are you comfortable?
-Yes, yes. This is fine.
My name is Anna Sage.
I’m a prostitute, a madam.
I run a house of prostitution.
You probably know
already this, don’t you?
That doesn’t matter, Anna.
Would you like a popsicle?
No, thank you.
-Popsicle sure is refreshing.
-No, thank you.
Go on.
I’m a alien.
I have a criminal record.
I run a good house.
Many city officials
are my clients.
I could make it
hot for some of them
if they try and deport me.
No one wants to do that,
not if you’ll help me.
Go on.
About a month ago,
almost a month,
maybe more,
a man came to board
in my apartment.
I have to take in boarders
He said his name
was John Lawrence,
that he worked for
the Chicago Board of Trade.
He was hiding
from his wife, divorced.
She was after him
for alimony.
They all say that.
They just want to
get around my girls.
You say this was
about a month ago?
About a month, yes.
That’s right.
He took up with Polly.
That’s Polly Hamilton,
one of my new girls.
He said
she looks like an Indian.
-An Indian?
-That’s silly.
She’s just an ordinary girl.
An Indian.
Isn’t that something?
He take us to the movies,
both of us.
That’s when I found out he
(SOFTLY) was Dillinger.
I see him in the newsreel.
I knew it, despite the hair,
the mustache.
I… I ask him.
Did he tell you
he was Dillinger?
He’s a nice fellow.
I don’t believe he
ever killed anyone.
He couldn’t have.
You won’t harm him
if you can help it?
No, of course not.
I’ve grown rather
fond of him myself
in a strange sort of way.
You won’t harm him, will you?
Please don’t do that.
I wouldn’t want harm
to come to him.
I wouldn’t have done this
if it wasn’t for my situation.
-You understand, don’t you?
-Certainly, certainly.
He likes to
go to movies.
Are you sure
you don’t want a popsicle?
I’ll take a red one.
So if I get
a spot on my dress,
it won’t show off too bad.
You look good in red.
Goes well with your hair.
Manhattan Melodrama
is on now,
starring Clark Gable.
It’s been running
about 25 minutes.
That’ll be all right.
I just wanna see the end.
No, I don’t like it at all.
Those are hoods.
they don’t dress like…
-Take it from me
and I’ve been
running this place
since 1925 and I know hoods.
Call the police.
-AGENT: Stay out of this, FBI.
-Yes, sir.
Just calm down.
There’s nothing
to worry about.
Those men across the street
are all Federal
agents like myself.
Is there gonna be shooting?
No one’s gonna get hurt.
That’s Melvin Purvis.
Who’s in here anyway?
Just keep to yourself.
There’s nothing
to worry about.
I want Hoover
in Washington directly.
Tell him
we have reason to believe
that Dillinger
is in the Biograph
Theater at present.
And that I’m taking
appropriate action
without aid of local police.
This one is ours alone.
We’ll try to take
him inside the theater,
or outside,
whichever one presents
the least risk to bystanders.
Tell him this time
I’m going to get him.
All right now, men.
This is it.
Some of you were in law school
when I started
chasing this one.
So let’s do it
and do it right.
Pistols only.
We can’t touch him in there.
There’s too many people.
Now, when he comes out
of there, he’ll be
with a woman dressed in red.
When I make
positive identification,
I’ll light my cigar.
Woman in red, lit cigar.
That’s your man.
Remember, wait for my cigar.
Is that clear?
WOMAN: Get the police!
Get the police!
MAN: What’s going on here?
WOMAN: Oh! Mr. Dillinger!
Break it up!
Break it up! Break it up!
HOOVER: Dillinger was a rat,
that the country may consider
itself fortunate to be rid of.

And I don’t sanction any
glamorization of these vermin.

This type of
romantic mendacity,

can only lead young people
further astray

than they are already.
And I want no part of it.

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