Don Corleone (Marlon Brando) is head of the New York-based Corleone family, namely his sons Sonny (James Caan) and Michael (Al Pacino), and his adoptive son/lawyer Tom (Robert Duvall). Corleone runs his Empire by providing dodgy, law-avoiding favours to various people in exchange for their loyalty and allegiance, and as a result he is influential in politics, the media, the police and even Hollywood. But when a rival family makes a near-fatal attack on Corleone in an attempt to bring the family down, it is up to his sons to do battle, seek out the traitors and re-establish the family’s power without getting killed…
We’ve reached a film with icon status again. The Godfather is right up there with Gone With the Wind, Citizen Kane, Casablanca and Lawrence of Arabia in the “top 10 films of all time” lists. Empire magazine does regular features titled something along the lines of “Why Everyone Loves The Godfather” and anyone over the age of 50 will have seen it cinematically.
My first viewing of The Godfather 3 or 4 years ago left me with not much good to say about it, in all honesty. I struggled to follow the complicated plot and generally found it to be just a long, darkly-lit film about sweaty Italian men, which usually wouldn’t be a problem for me. I was also uncomfortable with what I perceived as a celebration of vigilantism and the terribly old-fashioned view that real men take matters of conflict into their own hands.
This repeated viewing, within the context of 1970s cinema, gave a much more positive feel and greater understanding of the film’s legacy. The Godfather tapped into ‘70s fascination with sex, violence and corrupt politics in a far more extensive way than The French Connection and Midnight Cowboy. In 1972, we are well in the wake of the Watergate Scandal and the controversies of the Vietnam War. The idea of the mafia having ultimate power, rather than the smug-faced politicians, the glistening movie stars and the disingenuous media, would have been fascinating whether it was true or not. Such ideas certainly became far more fascinating to me after having watched similarly-themed TV shows about the underhandedness of Presidents and Kings such as House of Cards and Game of Thrones. With the Trump administration and even the inner-workings of the Brexit process being under huge scrutiny for corruption, The Godfather has a renewed relevance in the late 2010s.
For me to initially dismiss the film as a celebration of taking the law into one’s own hands was very wrong. The film condemns it entirely, but acknowledges that such a culture is hard to beat. While Don Corleone obstinately steers clear of murder and drug trafficking (which eventually leads to the rival families trying to bring him down), his son and eventual successor Michael is far worse. The film ends with Michael seizing control through multiple murders, and then lying to his wife (Diane Keaton) about all of it. As the film blacks out on Diane Keaton’s distrusting face and Michael’s secret meetings with his allies, the end credits leave us with a sense of despondency and nihilism. What is the point in resisting, when even the alleged vigilantes are helping the corrupt politicians when it suits them? What is the point in taking a side, when that side can be brought down with just a handful of machine guns? These questions remain unanswered.
The film’s not entirely perfect. I would have liked more exploration of Michael’s movement from remaining outside of the family “business” and his decision to get involved. He seems to take it up so willingly and easily that it didn’t leave as much character development as I’d have liked. I would have also liked some more insight into the female characters. Diane Keaton gets nothing more to do other than pine after Michael, and his sister Connie (Talia Shire) swings inexplicably between cowering from her abusive husband to mourning his death. If this were made in the Age of Netflix, we could have had a ten-episode miniseries to fully dissect these important players.
But nonetheless, The Godfather is essential viewing. If you’re thinking about getting involved in a light bit of nepotism, then you might want to see this film as a stark warning.
Fact: Marlon Brando turned down his Best Actor Oscar for this role and boycotted the ceremony as a protest against Hollywood’s and the government’s treatment of Native Americans. In his place, he sent activist Sacheen Littlefeather to explain his reasons. Her speech was much shorter than intended, as the ceremony’s producers forced her to cut it down, and she was met with a mixture of booing and applause from the audience.
Highlight
Michael’s first assassination is full of tension. An elaborate, carefully-directed moment that has you questioning if he will go through with it right until the climax.
Lowlight
I mean, how DO they manage to get that horse’s head into the bed without waking up the film producer?!
Mark
8/10
Like Paul, I have watched The Godfather before - in my case about ten years ago. I remember being utterly confused and so bored that I ended up watching it split across two days, so I approached this time with trepidation.
And like Paul, I was pleasantly surprised. It’s never going to make my top ten films of all time, and I wasn’t particularly compelled to keep watching except in a few instances, but I actually understood the plot this time. So that was nice.
What I think people (and especially Empire-reading gangster-film-loving audiences) clamour about in this film is the cinematography and acting performances. And while Marlon Brando turns in yet another overrated performance (I mean, sticking cotton buds in your cheeks and mumbling the entire thing - really?!) I was taken aback by quite how good Al Pacino is.
He delivers what - for me - is the point of the film. It’s a study in character development, more specifically the corruption of a once-good man. It’s the classic narrative - Scarface is another example - and it doesn’t really get old. We’ve also seen it previously in this project with All the King’s Men, and here Al Pacino as Michael takes us from a earnest, thoughtful young man who wants to stay outside the realms of his crime-riddled family, to becoming the darkest and most violent core of it.
We get to see how this happens over the very long running time, which if I’m honest is definitely too long. ‘Epic’ and ‘3 hours long’ aren’t always synonymous, as Three Billboards Outside Epping, Missouri showed earlier this year with its two hour running time and extraordinary depth. I found Ford Coppola focused a bit too much on ‘setting up the tension’, trying to make you anticipate events which were clearly going to happen anyway.
Is it a great film? Not by my book. But then I don’t like films that centre mostly around violence, and I certainly don’t like films that don’t have major roles for women. Diane Keaton and Talia Shire get a couple of shots, but ultimately it’s a film about a lot of men being violent. Which for me has gotten a bit old. It’s certainly well made and I can see why people who like this genre will call it a masterpiece. I don’t hate it as my 16 year old self did, but if it was a toss up between watching this and Legally Blonde, I know what I’d be watching right now - and it would involve Reese Witherspoon far more than Marlon Brando.
On a side note, I think what’s lacking from a lot of these ‘70s films, is any sense of humour or fun. This is the era of terribly earnest, striving-to-be-dark pieces. And I am always drawn towards something that will make me laugh at least once during the whole thing. Life isn’t all doom and gloom the whole time you know…
Highlight
Al Pacino does turn in a great performance, going from hopeful young man to glassy eyed villain.
Lowlight
Too long and too in love with itself. Get a sense of humour occasionally!
Mark
5/10
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