During a turbulent and contentious period in office spanning almost 50 years, J. Edgar Hoover was instrumental in the fight against criminality in America. In 1924, he was appointed director of the Bureau of Investigation, which became the FBI, and he backed new techniques in forensic science. He championed the creation of a fingerprint database that allowed the agency to track offenders across states. His achievements were considerable but his methods were criticised, including supposed heavy-handed treatment of suspects and secret dossiers on important figures, such as the presidents and their wives, which could be used to strengthen his position on Capitol Hill.

As Hoover, played with scenery-chewing gusto by Leonardo DiCaprio in Clint Eastwood’s handsomely crafted and slow-burning biopic J. Edgar, tells a close ally: “No one freely shares power in Washington.”

Eastwood crafts a meticulous and elegiac portrait of the man, whose professional travails were almost as fascinating as rumours surrounding his relationship with FBI assistant director Clyde Tolson. After Hoover’s death, Tolson inherited J Edgar’s estate. They are buried close to each other in the Congressional Cemetery.

Screenwriter Dustin Lance Black, who won an Academy Award for Milk, underpins his history lesson with a tender and chaste romance between the two men. The film opens with Hoover (DiCaprio) clinging to power, assisted as ever by loyal secretary Helen Gandy (Naomi Watts). He begins to dictate his memoirs to Agent Smith (Ed Westwick) and drifts back in time in hazy reminiscences to the 1919 bombings which sent shockwaves through Washington DC.

With Clyde (Armie Hammer) by his side, Hoover becomes embroiled in the ill-fated search for the missing infant son of aviator Charles Lindbergh (Josh Lucas) and clashes with Robert F Kennedy (Jeffrey Donovan).

Away from the corridors of power, Hoover strives to impress his domineering mother, Anna Marie (Judi Dench), who instructs him to hold firm when others doubt him.

J Edgar is overlong at 136 minutes and the ageing make-up used to transform DiCaprio into a liver-spotted septuagenarian isn’t convincing. But his performance is electrifying, eyes burning bright as he tells Clyde: “Sometimes you have to bend the laws a little in order to keep your country safe.”

Hammer cuts a fine figure as the loyal protege and Watts makes the most of her small role. Dench offers sterling support, sending a chill down the spine as she tells J. Edgar: “I’d rather have a dead son than a daffodil for a son.” The love story is handled with sensitivity and restraint — qualities which eluded the great man.

Madonna’s second feature behind the camera, W.E., explores the tumultuous romance of King Edward VIII and Wallis Simpson. Wally Winthrop (Abbie Cornish) is trapped in an abusive marriage to husband William (Richard Coyle). She becomes obsessed with a Sotheby’s auction of precious trinkets from the Windsor estate belonging to Wallis Simpson (Andrea Riseborough) and her royal suitor (James D’Arcy). Wally becomes a regular visitor to the pre-auction showcase, seeking sanctuary in flashbacks to Wallis’s trials and tribulations. “You have no idea how hard it is to live out the greatest romance of the century,” laments Wallis to one confidante. Back at the auction, Russian security guard Evgeni (Oscar Isaac) catches Wally’s eye, offering an escape from her violent and loveless relationship.

W.E. has flickers of directorial flair, including a stunning tracking shot of umbrellas in the rain cocooning Cornish from a sudden downpour. Costumes and art direction are impressive — just what you would expect from a material girl like Madonna. But the director’s obvious affinity with Simpson — a strong American woman, whose affairs were splashed across the press — clouds her judgment. The script is a mess and the 1990s sequences feel laboured. Despite tour-de-force performances from Riseborough and Cornish, this snapshot of a bygone era fails to capture our hearts like The King’s Speech, which dealt with the abdication with brevity and wit.