John Dillinger, the American gangster once proclaimed ‘Public Enemy No 1’, is as infamous as Bonnie and Clyde. His brief, inglorious career – like theirs – lasted only a few years and ended with his being shot in the back by J Edgar Hoover’s Bureau of Investigation in July 1934; he was 31. Dillinger’s defiance of the police made him something of a folk hero; attempts have been made to set his career in the context of his time and upbringing, not unlike the revisionism that has taken place with the career of the Australian outlaw Ned Kelly.

Dillinger was no Ned Kelly or Robin Hood, however, and Matthew Heap’s ‘American oratorio’, composed in 2012, does not try to make him one. Rather, it focuses on the last few days of Dillinger’s life, lying low in Chicago and trying to build a relationship with Polly Hamilton. The scenario is built around Dillinger’s betrayal by Ana Cumpănaș, – a Chicago madam for whom Polly worked – to Hoover after confrontations with Dillinger, who wanted Polly to cease working for Ana, and Hoover, who threatened to deport her. The work is structured as a concert opera, not unlike Stravinsky’s Oedipus Rex, although the works are wholly unalike. Dillinger is a chamber piece, with four vocal soloists, three of whom double in the eight-voice choir that drives the action forwards, accompanied by a chamber ensemble of 10 players.

George Milosh’s portrayal of Dillinger himself is nuanced, ardent and caring in his alter ego of Jimmy Lawrence, an office worker, menacing in his interactions with Ana. Leigh Usilton rather steals the show as the double-dealing brothel-keeper ‘in the red dress’. Caryn Alexis Crozier does her best as Polly but the role offers little of Ana’s scope, and her early exchanges with ‘Jimmy’ border on the banal. Juwan Johnson provides a fine turn as Hoover, scheming to make the deal that will seal Dillinger’s fate. Kym Scott directs the choir and ensemble with suitable urgency, building from the work’s uncertain start to the tense denouement, but the opera desperately needs a memorable tune; the singular scoring is its most notable feature. Navona’s studio recording, made last year, is close and rather airless. Concert opera it may be, but the work cries out for a staging.