Warren Beatty

Ben Siegel expects attention in Bugsy (1991), and Warren Beatty makes it easy to see why he usually gets it. He is entertaining company, even when his vanity ought to send everyone else towards the door. Then his temper changes the terms. We were unsettled by the switches from charm to aggression, because Beatty makes the violence feel like behaviour people have excused before. Barry Levinson keeps both sides recognisable as the same man, and Beatty never makes the pleasant company seem a separate act from the bully.

His film debut, as Bud Stamper in Elia Kazan's Splendor in the Grass (1961), established him as a leading man. With Bonnie and Clyde (1967), he was producing as well as starring, taking a greater hand in what reached the screen. From the late 1970s, he increasingly combined acting with writing and directing; Reds (1981) and Bulworth (1998) gave him all three jobs. Those responsibilities can dominate an account of his work, but the acting deserves to be looked at without being impressed by the rest of the credits.

In Bugsy, James Toback's screenplay gives him vanity, grand plans and criminal business to play together. Beatty is persuasive because he lets Siegel enjoy himself without asking us to forget what he is capable of. Annette Bening's Virginia Hill provides welcome resistance to his self-regard. She holds our attention alongside him, making the encounters more interesting than another opportunity to watch him be charming. This is where we find him most rewarding: given enough room to be attractive, and another performer who will not settle for admiring him.

The limitation is that the romance convinces less than either performance, and Levinson is too fond of Siegel's ambitions for Las Vegas. Beatty's unpredictability keeps that fondness from becoming comfortable, but cannot make the attachment between the lovers matter as much as the film wants it to. Start with Bugsy, with some patience for the romance and considerably less for Siegel.