Sean Penn as Mickey Cohen in Gangster Squad (2013). Photo by Wilson Webb/Warner Bros.

Imagine Mickey Cohen. West Coast gangster kingpin, 1940s and ’50s. Gambler. Tax cheat. Mob enforcer. Major racketeer, with hands in prostitution and dope. Volcanic temper. Not the kind of guy you’d want to chat with over the backyard fence.

And nasty as all get out is how Sean Penn plays Mickey Cohen in Gangster Squad, opening in January, about Los Angeles police chief William Parker (Nick Nolte) and his elite squad (including Ryan Gosling and Josh Brolin) whose mission is to keep the West Coast mob, as represented by Cohen and his minions, out of the city. It’s a standard plotline—cops vs. hoods—but the release of the movie is just the latest proof that when it comes to screen portrayals of mobsters, real or imagined, Americans enjoy wallowing in all that anti-social behavior. Gangsters are individualists on steroids, and we can’t get enough of them.

“There’s something enticing about the world [gangsters] live in,” says Gangster Squad director Ruben Fleischer. “It’s this forbidden existence; they live life on their own terms. Gangster films make the bad guys the good guys.”

“We like people who have more power, more id, less super ego,” adds Stuart Fischoff, senior editor of the Journal of Media Psychology. “There’s a bit of a gangster in all of us. We can vicariously identify [with them], live out our fantasies.”

Guess what? It didn’t take filmmakers very long to recognize this. As early as 1912, D.W. Griffith’s The Musketeers of Pig Alley showed a fascination with organized crime on New York’s Lower East Side, and allegedly used real street gang members as extras. But it was the Great Depression, and the gangster films of that era, which really jump-started the genre: Edward G. Robinson in Little Caesar. James Cagney in The Public Enemy. Paul Muni as Scarface and Humphrey Bogart as Duke Mantee in The Petrified Forest. Snarling nasty guys with their guns, molls, Prohibition-era chicanery, and personal charisma. All of which came out of a specific cultural and political context. Desperate times created desperate characters, and the collapse of the worldwide economic system caused many people to question the viability of the capitalist system—and their place in it.

Edward G. Robinson in Little Caesar. Photo courtesy www.doctormacro.com.

“The early gangster films reflected the crisis of individualism in the Depression,” says film critic Dave Kehr of davekehr.com. “If you wanted to rise above, you had to go outside the law. Gangster films parody capitalism, they highlight class distinctions. It’s the anti-American dream.”

“If you go back to the 1930s, America was becoming more urban, there was the Great Depression, and Americans felt the economic system had failed them, so people like John Dillinger became folk heroes,” adds Glen Macnow, co-author of The Ultimate Book of Gangster Movies.

“The film audience was ethnic and urban,” he adds, “so Warner Brothers started the genre by giving the urban immigrants something they liked, with pictures featuring urban ethnic criminals like Scarface and Little Caesar. You had this perfect formula for success.”

Warren Beatty and Faye Dunaway star as Bonnie and Clyde (1967). Photo courtesy Warner Bros./Seven Arts/Photofest.

And that’s pretty much how the gangster film played out over the next few decades. The bad boys remained individualists involved in all sorts of rackets, and as the Depression waned, the genre shifted into the bleak moral atmosphere of film noir, where, says Macnow, “the gangsters are less gunmen than businessmen running corrupt businesses.” Every once in a while there’d be a psychological take on the genre—James Cagney’s psychopathic mama’s boy in 1949’s White Heat—or, in the case of 1967’s Bonnie and Clyde, a film that startled with its violence and sociological insight.

“You got into the psychology of those people,” says Fischoff of Bonnie and Clyde. He explains how this particular twist on the gangster flick delved with Freudian insight into the roots of the characters’ pathology. The message was that “people weren’t born villains.”

Then came one of those great breaks from the past, as significant in cinematic terms as when dinosaurs seemed to disappear from the planet almost overnight. 1972. The Godfather. On one level, you can think of it as the heartwarming tale of an Army vet who goes into the family business. On another, it’s the tragedy of an honest son who evolves into a ruthless crime boss. All told in a groundbreaking, operatic style that took a trash novel and turned it into cinematic high art.

Marlon Brando in The Godfather (1972). Photo courtesy Paramount Pictures/Photofest.

Director Francis Ford Coppola’s classic film also represented a major shift in the underlying theme of the gangster flick. The game changed from “radical individualism to the pleasure of belonging to a group with special privileges,” says Kehr. “These were the guys excluded from society, constructing their parallel world where they’re safe and empowered.”

“The Godfather was an epic, a family saga, a Shakespearean tragedy,” adds Macnow. “It turned the Mob from a bunch of nasty thugs and turned them into a modern view of Roman royalty. It’s about family and honor and code.”

The Godfather led directly to Goodfellas, in which mobsters are family surrogates for Henry Hill, the lead character. And to The Sopranos, the groundbreaking blend of suburban psychoanalytic angst with the conventions of the mobster story. Even the Al Pacino classic, Scarface, certainly one of the most florid and over-the-top gangster movies ever made, dabbled in family dynamics.

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So what’s left? The gangster film has been around for 100 years, morphing from stylized Depression-era tales of social consciousness to contemporary stories owing their popularity as much to family doings and the analyst’s couch as “going to the mattresses” and contract killings. In some ways, it seems the genre has exhausted itself, and contemporary audiences are more interested in tales of super heroes and alien slime things.

Which in some ways makes Gangster Squad a bit of a throwback, a nostalgia piece about the days when mobsters were predominantly Italian or Jewish—at one time the underdog, immigrant groups of a bygone era. But crime is ever resourceful, and so are our filmmakers. And as American demographics continue to evolve, its criminals will reflect that evolution. Which means that changing demographics have affected what kinds of villains we’re seeing onscreen, because the audience has changed. Now there’s plenty of room for films about Cuban dope dealers (Scarface), African-American drug masterminds (American Gangster), Russian crime families (Eastern Promises), and streets gangs of various ethnicities and races (Boyz n the Hood, Colors).

Can the movies about Nigerian, Albanian, and Chinese crime lords be far behind?

“We have always been fascinated with the guy who chooses to live his life on his own terms,” says Macnow, “We all want to believe we’re rebels, so when we root for the gangster, we get that vicarious thrill.”

Adds Fleischer: “America is a place that embraces liberty, and the right to live life on your own terms. People have looked up to these bad guys who are not following the rules. It’s safer to do that in movie form than reality.”

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The first time a 32-year-old Scottish actor uttered those words was in a small film that opened in London 50 years ago. Based on a popular pulp novel by Ian Fleming, Dr. No cost slightly over $1 million and featured a group of not-yet stars including Sean Connery, Jack Lord (“Hawaii Five-O”), and Ursula Andress alongside an established character actor, Joseph Wiseman, as the movie’s villain.

It was a film that debuted with no expectations whatsoever. Months later, when Dr. No opened in the U.S., The New York Times called it “lively” and “amusing,” a “spoof of science fiction and sex.” Translation: a cute, entertaining trifle.

Yet, lo and behold, Dr. No grossed nearly $60 million worldwide—fantastic box office for that time—and spawned a film franchise that has produced 22 feature films (the 23rd, Skyfall, is due out in October) with global earnings of more than $5 billion.

In an era when big budget extravaganzas such as Lawrence of Arabia and The Longest Day attracted the largest audiences, Dr. No’s success seemed to come out of nowhere. Yet the reasons why it succeeded were easily discernable. “The formula was simple,” says film critic and author Irv Slifkin of moviefanfare.com. “A good-looking guy who was lethal yet likable, gorgeous women, nasty villains, nifty gadgets, nice locations, and cool music—all presented in first class fashion with a dollop of violence and sex and, in some cases, politics.”

“Bond tapped into a full range of male fantasies and desires that were simultaneously being exploited by popular media and international advertising at the height of post-war consumerism,” adds Christoph Lindner, editor of The James Bond Phenomenon: A Critical Reader. “There is a great study of the interrelations—both commercial and artistic—between Bond and Playboy magazine in the early 1960s, showing that both developments shared many values and perspectives, not just on sex and women, but also on conspicuous consumption and the fetishism of technology.”

In other words, gorgeous women and cool gadgets—not to mention Cold War paranoia and wackadoodle plot lines far removed from the dour and more realistic spy flicks of the era—were some of the keys to the films’ success. And if you were female, well, you might not have liked the casual sexism of the Bond series, but there was always Sean Connery, about as studly as they come, to satisfy your fantasies. As Slifkin puts it: “The women came for James, and the men came for everything else.” [Not everyone was buying 007. For a contemporary, critical view of Bond and his movies, read William K. Zinsser's 1965 article "The Big Bond Bonanza" —ed.]

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And they kept coming back for more. When Sean Connery bowed out of the series, they came for George Lazenby, and then Roger Moore, Timothy Dalton, Pierce Brosnan, and now Daniel Craig. The villains changed, the women came and went, the plots sometimes became utterly ridiculous—like in 1979’s Moonraker, which involved a master race, a plot to exterminate all human life, and a battle on a space station—but none of that seemed to matter. Bond was part of the culture. Which meant it became hard to find people who didn’t know who Q, M, and Miss Moneypenny were; who weren’t familiar with Odd Job and Jaws; and who didn’t know that Bond liked his martinis “shaken, not stirred.”

In fact, this familiarity worked in the series’ favor. One of the reasons 007 managed to survive from the Cold War era into the post-9/11 world is that the more things changed, the more Bond tended to stay the same. According to Glenn Yeffeth, editor of James Bond in the 21st Century, Bond is “good at what he does, and he is an openly heterosexual male, unashamed of his own manhood. Those characteristics seem to be as relevant as they ever were. If you look at Jack Bauer in the TV show “24,” I think what people like about that character are the same characteristics.”

There’s also Bond’s relationship with his bosses, which remains highly volatile. 007 is an insider who acts like an outsider, and that tension has been constant throughout the series. “At one level he represents a fantasy of government control in a geopolitical world that has lost its grip on western security,” says Lindner, “but at another level he also represents a fantasy of escape from the excessive authority and surveillance of government. This tension between control and escape is an important part of Bond’s success over the decades.”

And then there’s the most obvious way in which the series stays current—when it comes to enemies, Bond is always after the villain du jour. “The films have always reflected the times in which they were made,” says Yefeth. “In the ’60s, it was Cold War espionage and the beginnings of the sexual revolution. In the ’70s and ’80s, they became more comedic and fantastical in the era of overindulgence. But the fundamental principles of Bond haven’t changed. He is intent on trying to preserve world order. For each era, Bond has found his way.”

Which means that in the latest reboot of the series, Daniel Craig’s 007 has been fighting a gaggle of very contemporary bad seeds who finance international terrorism (Casino Royale) or are out to control an entire nation’s water supply (Quantum of Solace).

And there is one more significant way in which Bond has kept up with the times. Even though he’s as tough as ever, he has become more emotionally open. “Fleming’s original Bond from the novels was a deeply flawed and emotionally damaged character,” says Lindner. “Over the years, the films gradually turned Bond into a teflon spy. But now, in the post-9/11 era—and thanks in part to other spy franchises like the Jason Bourne trilogy—Bond has rediscovered his emotions and his imperfections.”

So what’s not to like? He’s macho. He’s emotional. He’s even become, if the most recent films are any indication, almost—but not quite—monogamous. And in a world that seems even more chaotic and dangerous than the one in which he first appeared, we all know that when evil rears its ugly head, there’s one secret agent we can always count on.

Bond. James Bond.

Best of Bond

There have been 22 Bond films so far. In chronological order, here are my picks for the five best. —L.B.

From Russia With Love (1963)

Daniela Bianchi and Sean Connery. © Bettmann/CORBIS

Why It’s Great: A Cold War spy caper with superbad villains intent on world domination. Bonus: A top-notch supporting cast including Robert Shaw and Lotte Lenya.
Main Villain: Ernst Stavro Blofeld, the consummately evil head of SPECTRE shown only from the neck down as he strokes his white cat. Equally freaky and fearsome—Rosa Klebb (Lenya), the killer with poison-tipped blades concealed in the toes of her shoes.
Bond Babe: Tatiana Romanova (Daniela Bianchi), Russian agent turned Bond ally.
Cool Gadget: A special briefcase including a rifle and ammunition plus 50 gold sovereigns, a knife, and a tear gas cartridge disguised as talcum powder.
Memorable Dialogue: Tatiana, trying on dresses – “I will wear this one in Picadilly.” Bond – “You won’t. They’ve just passed some new laws there. ”

Goldfinger (1964)

Shirley Eaton and Sean Connery. © Sunset Boulevard/Corbis

Why It’s Great: A daring robbery plan, nasty supervillain, and that smiling henchman Oddjob (Harold Sakata). Mix that with a female flying corps, one of the best Bond title songs (sung by Shirley Bassey), and a terrific final action sequence and you get perhaps the greatest Bond ever.
Main Villain: Auric Goldfinger (Gert Fröbe), master criminal who wants to rob Fort Knox.
Bond Babe: Pussy Galore (Honor Blackman), Bond enemy turned ally.
Cool Gadget: Awesome Aston Martin with passenger ejection seat, forward machine guns, hubcaps doubling as tire slashers, and other goodies.
Memorable Dialogue: Stewardess – “Can I do anything for you?” Bond – “Just a drink. A martini, shaken, not stirred.”

On Her Majesty’s Secret Service (1969)

Diana Rigg and George Lazenby. MGM.

Why It’s Great: George Lazenby is no Sean Connery, but he’s okay as Bond, and the film is tight, smart, and extremely well directed with killer action sequences. Bonus: We find 007 in love.
Main Villain: Ernst Stavro Blofeld (Telly Savalas), doing some strange allergy research involving beautiful women.
Bond Babe: Teresa di Vicenzo (Diana Rigg), who marries Bond, but is murdered on their wedding day.
Cool Gadget: Radioactive lint, which acts as a homing device.
Memorable Dialogue: Draco (Gabriele Ferzetti) – “My apologies for the way you were brought here. I wasn’t sure you’d accept a ‘formal’ invitation.” Bond – “There’s always something formal about the point of a pistol.”

Licence To Kill (1989)

Timothy Dalton and Carey Lowell. Columbia Pictures.

Why It’s Great: Criminally underrated at the time, this is an exciting action film with Timothy Dalton as a nasty, driven Bond out to stop a drug lord and avenge a near-fatal attack on his friend Felix Leiter (David Hedison).
Main Villain: Franz Sanchez (Robert Davi), South American drug kingpin based on Pablo Escobar.
Bond Babe: Pam Bouvier (Carey Lowell), CIA informant posing as a drug courier who falls for Bond.
Cool Gadget: A camera that can be converted into a rifle and programmed so only one person can fire it.
Memorable Dialogue: Bond, when asked to cut a wedding cake – “I’ll do anything for a woman with a knife.”

Casino Royale (2006)

Why It’s Great:Grade A reboot of the series featuring a macho but sensitive Daniel Craig as 007 and smashing action sequences.

Eva Green and Daniel Craig. PhotoFest.

Main Villain: Le Chiffre (Mads Mikkelsen), a banker for terrorist organizations.
Bond Babe: Vesper Lynd (Eva Green), double agent supposedly monitoring Bond’s expenses but also working for a terrorist organization. She soon falls for our hero.
Cool Gadgets: Film is low on futuristic gadgetry because it is about the start of Bond’s career as a “00.” Still, his Aston Martin has a glove compartment with antidotes to various poisons and a portable defibrillator. Most laughable is his Sony Ericsson cellphone with (get this!) GPS and a 3.2 megapixel digital camera!
Memorable Dialogue: Lynd – “It doesn’t bother you? Killing all those people?” Bond – “Well, I wouldn’t be very good at my job if it did.”

What’s your favorite Bond movie?

James Bond Turns 50 The Saturday Evening Post