• Gerardo Valero from Mexico City
Behind every great fortune there is a crime. - Balzac
So states the prologue of Mario Puzo's novel, "The Godfather," a debatable statement that rings true nonetheless. It certainly feels like "the truth" after visiting this world. Does it mean that the Corleone family was completely amoral? Not at all, and that is what separates this material from just about every previous gangster film. This family provided justice and protection to those who couldn't get it elsewhere. They also gave them gambling, women and liquor--but heck, they did draw a line at drugs. If there is one thing that Mario Puzo and Francis Ford Coppola evidently were clear about, it's that black or white characters aren't particularly exciting.
The phenomenal success of the Godfather Trilogy can basically be attributed to the decision on the part of Paramount executives to put their helm in the hands of a master filmmaker at his very peak who also happened to be one of the few raised in a family with the precise sensibilities required to take the material from Mario Puzo's best-selling novel and make it feel absolutely real.
It is precisely in the small details that these films transcended from the "merely great" to the sublime: details like the characters discussing business during their most important family celebrations; the powerful title character playing with his cat while tending to a tragic request; the terrifying enforcer giving a mumbled speech to his boss while being interrupted by the play of little grandchildren; the annoyed sign painter outside Genco Olive Oil, upset at the nervous house tenant who won't let him do his job properly. These are just a few examples but one could go on forever. For audiences who had never actually met people like them, these elements felt right.
Coppola had the vision (and persistence) to cast this handful of film masterpieces which would have never been the same with any other actors, no matter how talented. He also made it just about impossible for audiences not to identify with them. How many film goers can claim they know Vito, Sonny, Fredo, Michael, Tom and Connie better than a lot of their own relatives?
The central theme in the Godfather trilogy is the life of Vito and Michael Corleone, men of extraordinary intelligence who faced their own similar and pivotal moments in life in which both chose the road of violence as the best way to protect and provide for their families, only to later realize that leaving such world is not as easy as entering it (think: "just when I thought I was out!"). Both were faithful to their wives in every circumstance and held their families above everything, even taking unfortunate strangers in, at their most desperate hour (see Hagen). It's safe to say that had they been born into a family under different circumstances, both would have become men of good.
From an early age and in every step of his life, Vito had to live with the constant presence of organized crime, from the loss of his family and home at an early age to the loss of a legitimate job early in his marriage, and then to extortion to surrender a big part of his earnings in the not so legitimate one: it was here that Vito had to decide between getting rid of the enforcer Fanucci or being a subordinate the rest of his life: the resulting decision ended up paving the way for the surge of one of the most powerful mob families in the country.
It was only natural for one of his three boys to eventually follow him in the family business but the oldest is killed, the next one is clearly not fit for this (or almost any other) position, and the youngest, Michael, had repeatedly stated he didn't want anything to do with the family business (nor would Vito like him to)--that is, until faith and circumstance bring his own moment of truth along. Forgetting for a moment the moral repercussions
of wiping out all of your opponents, one can understand the logic behind Michael's thinking: it clearly was becoming impossible to keep co-existing with the Barzini and Tattaglia families; the real issue was that Michael ended up falling in love with murder as a solution to all his problems, making us realize that he wasn't the outsider to the family that he always claimed to be, that he actually had it in him the whole time.
I found it curious years ago to learn about Coppola's expressed distaste for film violence, considering that he's so very good at portraying it in his own films. It is the little touches that make violent scenes here special: the camaraderie prior to Paulie's execution; the malfunctioning light bulb in Fanucci's building; the ducking toll-booth collector and Sonny; Don Ciccio's hearing problems while listening to "Antonio Andolini"; that very important part of the "Hail Mary" which Fredo doesn't get to say on-screen.
In the second film we find Michael trying to outwit the two main two suspects of his assassination attempt, confronting them behind their backs in order to find out who the real culprit was, only to inadvertently learn of the most painful involvement of his brother in this plot. It is here and in a very short period of time that Michael becomes aware of this betrayal, his wife Kay aborts a much awaited baby, and their marriage breaks down while the feds are closing in. It is a perfect storm which makes him feel as if his sacrifices were for nothing, effectively turning him into a bitter, paranoid man. That's bad news for everyone surrounding him, especially poor hapless Fredo. Michael spent so many years and effort "trying to think like those around you think", obsessing about who was still loyal, who wasn't anymore, that he simply never saw these betrayals coming from so close within.
A good way to comprehend the difference part I's Michael and part II's is their interrogation scenes at the end of each film, the first one designed by a
perfectly-in-control Michael to extract the truth from his brother-in-law Carlo in order to justify his murder, the second a paranoiac effort to make Tom Hagen, his most loyal companion, confess to something, simply because he might have possibly considered doing it. It was Coppola's personal decision to have Michael order the death of his brother, much to the dismay of just about everyone involved in the production and as such he has to be commended for what has to be considered one of the gutsiest decisions by a filmmaker in movie history.
Just try to imagine Bogart ordering the death of Renault in "Casablanca" or even Rhett doing away with Scarlett. Here was something Hollywood had rarely done before, surely not in this scale. What audience could possibly identify with Michael now? Who was there left to root for? Coppola may have chosen this solution as a way to avoid his critics' continuous claims that he glamorized organized crime, but whatever the case, it turned out to be a milestone decision which only served to give the series a whole new dimension. It is now impossible to imagine a better ending for "Godfather I" than Michael alone in absolute silence, his eyes wondering, a tragic and lost figure.
It's interesting how Puzo's novel has the character of Kay converting to Catholicism, going to mass every day and lighting candles for Michael's soul following her mother-in-law's example (Coppola actually considered this for the film, as it exists in the form of a deleted scene). You could say she turned into a younger version of Mama Corleone who would serve the food silently (and with a deaf ear) while the men discussed the business in hand. Instead, Coppola ended up using the character of Kay in the films as a way to attest how times had changed, and kept her as the outsider willing to resort to actions Michael never even considered possible. How Don Vito would have dealt with such a situation in his time is impossible to even imagine.
After years of bizarre casting rumors (Travolta, Stallone), Part III finally came out some 16 years later. Having run of out material from the original source, Puzo and Coppola wrote a completely new treatment which dealt with Michael trying to leave organized crime and redeem himself, all with tragic results. I've discussed this film before in more detail but I find worth adding how the studio forced the film to be ready by the end of 1990 strictly for internal business reasons. As a result, Part III ended up feeling like it was done in a hurry and certainly with a lesser cast than the first two (despite the fine additions of Garcia and Wallach). That Coppola was still able to come up with an overall good film (with some truly magnificent scenes) speaks volumes about his abilities. Still, dealing with the hyper-expectations of audiences isn't ever easy and it can be said that Part III is seen by Godfather fans much like the Star Wars prequels are by those of Star Wars fans.
The Godfather Trilogy cannot be considered a realistic depiction of organized crime; for that we have films like "Goodfellas" which grew in part from Scorsese's own life experiences and acquaintances. Puzo wrote his novel entirely from research and it was Coppola who saw the possibilities of turning the story of the Corlene family into a metaphor for capitalism in America. What can indeed be said for sure is that "The Godfather" does represent the ultimate version of the American dream gone wrong, in a land of many types of opportunity.
It is nice to reminisce about this trilogy. More than anything it is the golden brown hues of the Corleone office and the musical score that springs foremost to the mind. I have yet to see the Birth of a Nation but I think the trilogy is also essential Americana--not the gangsters but a kind of American brand of fatalism, people bound to certain destinies by the circumstances of birth and ancestry. At the same time it is a story of human aspiration and courage of its kind, and the carving of careers and empires. It's as typically American as Some Like it Hot.
"It was Coppola's personal decision to have Michael order the death of his brother, much to the dismay of just about everyone involved in the production and as such he has to be commended for what has to be considered one of the gutsiest decisions by a filmmaker in movie history."
I can't agree with you more about that. Along with Roman Polanski's similar decision on "Chinatown", another great movie that came out in the same year, that was really brave decision.
My first experience with Godfather series was the TV version Coppola reedited from Part 1 and Part 2. It was interesting version because Part 1 became the bridge between De Niro part and Pachino part of Part 2. From that, I understood what Roger Ebert pointed out in his original review for part 2; Coppola could have just stuck to Pachino part without any problem.
However, alternating between two storylines makes a bigger picture, and Coppola makes an epic about dark version of American Dream with his two great movies. Part three still feels redundant(I heard Coppola decided to make this movie because of his series of failures in the 1980s), but it's an enjoyable closing chapter with good moments. It just looks small compared to the monumental achievement years ago.
The Godfathers saga is the frontier spirit in a different bottle.
@S M Rana: I believe the term "great american classic" has been so often used by critics that some of its resonance has been lost through the years but, if there is a film or series to which it perfectly applies, that is THE GODFATHER.
@Seongyong: You bring something up which I definitely should have mentioned about the importance of Fredo's death. The reason it felt so devastating wasn't the act itself alone (plenty of films have their own twist and turns as well) but the fact that it was executed by a movie character who had been previously established in a prior film and who already had legendary status before that defining moment. I really think Coppola had a lot more to lose than to earn with this decision but at the end, the series itself was the real winner because you can't watch many moments througout the 3 films without taking the perspective of this fact into consideration. I still can't explain how we were able to root for Michael after that, but we did.
I also caught the re-edited version of I & II on TV many years ago. I know this is highly subjective but it just didn't taste the same to me.
Part III was actually quite good until the end, which seemed rushed and stupid (despite the great opera scene right before it).
I also think that the first one is the best, for even though we have De Niro in Part II (and both he and Brando won the Oscar for portraying the same role), we miss Brando's presence, and some of the power of Michael's transformation. Plus, what happens to Sonny in Part I shocked the hell out of me the first time I saw it. If Part I ends in triumph, with Michael's ascent, then Part II is a tragedy, with Michael's fall. Certainly, it appears he has crossed a moral line, even according to the moral code of the mafia, in the second film. And now, he is truly alone, and by his own hand.
Damn. Now I want to see the movies again, preferably on blu ray or (even better) a restored 35 mm print. And yes, that musical score is pitch perfect. Nina Rota composed a great score for the film, one that suggests its Italianate roots, as well as its epic sweep.
One final note: Coppola himself saw the first movie as the story of a man with three sons, each of which has one of his personality traits.
Gerardo,
Your clip got me reflecting some on the main actors chosen by Coppola. What an incongruous lot. Marlon Brando was the son of a soda shop salesman from Nebraska. He was born in 1924. Both James Caan and Al Pacino were born in New York in 1940. Tough guy Caan used to ride the rodeo circuit as "the Jewish Cowboy." And well, Al Pacino is Al Pacino. Now John Cazale was born in Boston in 1935, making him 11 years younger than Brando and 5 years older than the other two. And he doesn't resemble any of them. If you think about it, on paper, they make pretty unlikely family unit. What a testament to all involved the masterpiece they were to achieve.
But mostly I thought again of John Cazale. He would die of bone cancer in 1978. He was by all accounts a kind and giving man. His 20 something fiancee, Meryl Streep, surely thought so. She stuck by him till the end. He had firmly predicted her future greatness. They co-starred of course in his last effort, "The Deer Hunter." Ms. Streep, Director Michael Cimino, and all involved on the set patiently made sure the dying man's scenes got filmed, even if meant the costly hassle of altering shooting schedules. I have never spoken to anyone or read an unkind word about this great actor--ever--a statement I'm pretty damn sure Roger would attest.
Plus John Cazale is the answer to my all time favorite trivia question-- Name the only actor in movie history that appeared in a minimum 5 films, that were ALL nominated for the Academy Award Best Picture?
"The Godfather 1&2," "The Conversation," "Dog Day Afternoon," and "The Deer Hunter."
I am generally lousy about predicting the future, but am also pretty damn sure that record will stand awhile. Finally, Gerardo, as usual, I found your overall discussion most enlightening.
@litdreamer: Yeah, the "ghost" of Brando can be felt throughout II. It's too bad he balked at the very last moment to appear at the "reunion" scene (though it ended up being wonderful anyway).
It's funny but even though Coppola will be the first to admit that the Sonny death scene was based on the end of BONNIE AND CLYDE, I felt the former to be much more shocking, perhaps because of how powerful a character he was.
@john in Denver: Hi John, great comment and trivia bit. Did you know Meryl Streep practiced her crying for the trial scene in Kramer vs. Kramer by thinking of Cazale?
Regarding Brando, can you believe he was only 47 when he played the Don? The easiest way to tell how young he is in the movie is by looking at his hands (definitely those of a young man). I usually think "aging" make-up in film stinks but this is certanly an exception.
Long time without being in your neighborhood (about 9 years). I did get to climb Pyke's Peak though.
I remember watching it during the original release in theaters, and thinking, "Why is Michael going back to Kay (Diane Keaton)?" Surely he learned the importance of marrying a woman like his own mother, who would stay at home, raise the kids and - most important - acknowledge his importance as a Godfather in the Sicilian traditions. Kay was an outsider, and.. OK, in the first scenes, we admire Michael's choices. He's going to protect his father in the hospital, he's going to show up for his sister's wedding with a non-Italian girl to prove he's not really part of the family. But after he returns from Sicily, he's lost the Ivy League war hero part of his psyche. And that was the major disappointment in II and III. We never saw Michael wondering if maybe he could still be something else. The best heroes have dual natures, or secret identities, and Michael lost his.
Robert Evans, head of production at Paramount, wrote about meeting Mario Puzo for the first time. Puzo was seriously overweight. Evans had been asked, as a favor, to take a meeting with a new writer. Puzo came in with a leather satchel full of a half-completed manuscript for a book called "Mafia." Evans offered him $10,000 for the screenplay rights. Puzo said, "Can you make it $17,000?" Evans sent Puzo down to accounting to get a check and never thought about the meeting again, until one day Puzo showed up to ask, "Would you mind if I changed the title from Mafia to The Godfather?" Then, the book came out, sold enormously, and Burt Lancaster offered to buy the movie rights from Paramount for a million dollars. Evans said he rushed the picture into production because he was afraid someone above him would make the deal with Lancaster and "Godfather" would be gone.
This seemed rather a recollection of your impressions about the personal experience of living through these films instead of a review, something I found interesting and insightful. Yet, I'd sincerely appreciate to read what you might add to what's been discussed for almost 40 years about the significance of these films (I and II of course, III will always be a guilty pleasure) in the evolving history of movie making and their implication in the ever since evolving attitude towards our own ethical standards in film: The Godfather ultimate driving force is a concept of "Family" lost between complicity and greed which Coppola manages to deliver "attractive" antiheroic characters. Very different from the audience's reaction towards the alluring sacrifice Rick Blaine is determined to make or the actually disgusting behavior of Hud Bannon towards his family and housekeeper, both well known antiheroes. Some critic has considered the Godfather films as one of cinema's greatest tragedies -shakespearean, some say, comparing them to Hamlet. Well; Hamlet, Macbeth, Iago, Shylock or Brutus have never been perceived as attractive a character as Michael Coreleone, have they?
My late uncle's late brother, Richard Bright, played Al Nieri. To this day, it is a source of family pride that he was the one to whack Fredo.
"...the decision on the part of Paramount executives to put their helm in the hands of a master filmmaker at his very peak..."
How ironic, then, to remember that Coppola was very nearly fired from the first Godfather film by those very same executives ("'Executives' is the proper term," James Caan once reminisced dryly) due to what they considered his lack of experience...to the extent that a replacement director (!) actually shadowed Coppola on location for a spell.
How fortunate for us all that Don Francis had the enthusiasm and confidence to continue shooting his vision, undaunted.
Gerardo,
If you and the Mrs. get out this way again, I would suggest you head over for the Telluride Film Festival. What a place! Early fall in the Rockies.The aspens should be in bloom. The setting is awesome. You won't soon forget that first look down on Telluride as you descend from the mountains. And the festival is great fun, most user friendly. Or it used to be. Haven't been able to get over for some years. Of course Roger can give you a current update. Funny, one lasting memory of the Festival is their honoring a personal favorite, Don Siegel. It was my first time there. Had to look up the year. 1987.
Often superficially described as a study of capitalism, the "Godfather Trilogy" rather delves into the crimes of treason and conspiracy; henious crimes committed by governments of today and throughout history.
As an aside, Micheal was in the military prior to taking over for his father. The real "mob" in any country, at any time, occupies high government posts.
The "mob" in any country, at any time, is never as completely amoral and sanguinary entity as the military.
I think there are admirable qualities within Michael and Vito, but I can't agree with the statement, "It's safe to say that had they been born into a family under different circumstances, both would have become men of good." Blaming circumstances for the evil of man is a classic blunder. The faults lies not in their stars, but in themselves. You suggest that both men simply love their family so much that they would choose the family over doing right -- but that's what evil is, caring about something else more than doing right. Evil men are always choosing their "group" (family, tribe, race, country, religion, etc.) over others. Thinking that it's worth the pain caused to others to do good for one's own isn't the thing that keeps Michael and Vito from doing good, it IS their evil. If they had been born to a different family, they would have had different lives, of course, but I see no reason to think they would have been able to avoid talking themselves into doing evil regardless.
Not to pay you lip service of any kind, but I think this is the best review of the trilogy I've ever read, Ebert's included! You ought to go pro and get your material published, both in English and in Spanish; both in Mexico and in the States, for you'd be wasting a God-given talent if you don't. Two thumbs waaay up!
P.S.: I still think Godfather III sucks!
My apologies to all who sent their comments on and after August 17th. Somehow I couldn’t access them on my PC until recently. Here are my replies anyway:
@Bill Hays: in answer to your observation: without the outsiders (Kay and Hagen), the Corleones would hardly be as much fun. Besides, the whole point of the movie is that the more Michael said he wasn’t like the rest of his family, the more he really was.
If you are interested to learn more about the history of these films, there are two very good books (available on E-bay) which I highly recommend:
The Godfather Legacy by Harlan Lebo
The Godfather Companion by Peter Biskind
This is a good comment Bill. I really think you have lots to contribute to these blogs if you leave your anti-Islam crap behind.
@Mario Zavala: I appreciated your comment, specially since it finally gives me an insight as to why you constantly let me know my reviews do not precisely fulfill said concept.
It seems to me that the question here is then, what it is that makes a film review just that: is it a) placing a film in terms of history and comparing it with other film characters or events?, or is it b) giving a personal view on what it is about them that has personally affected me? It is rather clear to me that the answer to you is a) while to me it is mostly b) and ocosionally a).
The way I see the Godfather trilogy is simply as something in my life that will not go away, movies come and go but these one I can’t seem to leave behind (or would ever want to). Every time I watch them I find myself asking the same questions wondering how I could possibly root for a character like Michael until the trilogy’s last frame, how its questions about ethics have not and will never date; wondering why a family like this can possibly remind me so much about mine and realizing I’m hardly the orly one.
And by the way thanks for your loyal following.
@Christian Stavrakis: Personally, I can’t help but wonder if the pressure from Paramount executives (The Godfather) or the hell he brought upon himself (Apocalypse Now) were the things which brought out the undeniable genius in Coppola. I know this sounds more like a put down than a compliment but somehow I can’t understand why his later work could become mostly irrelevant.
@Damian Sarcuni: Neri whacked Fredo AND Barzini, both equally remarkable
I was very sorry to hear about your uncle dying in such a tragic fashion but I’m glad he let your family such a happy legacy.
@jJohn in Denver: Sounds outstanding John. I still have friends in your area (actually in Colorado Springs) and maybe, one of these days…….
@babette: What I find remarkable about the Corleone Family is how it was constitued by mostly moral men, yet doing these terrible things.
@Anton: I’m not justifying their actions but you’d have to agree both men were born into rather extreme circumstances, besides, let’s not forget it wasn’t exactly Mother Teresa that Vito and Michael ordered to be whacked.
@Paco Calderon: to receive such praise from a political cartoonist whose work dwarfs just about any other I’ve ever know and who, whenever discussed in my family the invariable reaction is “how can the guy be that good?, represents yet another highlight from the opportunity Roger provided me of writing here and for which I’ll always be grateful to him.
I’ve been following your works since that book you did with Luis Pazos around 1983-84 and like you, I’m a graduate from the Marists (CM-IM-CUM).
My sincere thanks for your comment.
Marlon Brando is truly the greatest ever actor. He had the power to make even the best of his contemporaries look ordinary. And he did it all with very little effort. Brando saw acting as simply necessary to the maintenance of his life and it was this irreverance that enabled him to produce such thrilling performances. Watch him in any film and you’ll see it is all so effortless for him, yet undoubtedly brilliant.