The Godfather

The Godfather is practically cinematic royalty and is treated as one of the finest examples of the craft. Starting as a novel written in 1969 by Mario Puzo before evolving into a 1972 feature film headed by Paramount, the tale of a young man slowly becoming engulfed by the legacy of his mafia boss father to the point that he transforms from family outsider into the next Don, blew people away with its aggressive tone, authentic portrayal of the crime syndicate, fervent performances, and operatic storytelling. Though seen as a gamble at the time even by those who were involved with its creation, the payoff was certainly worth the risk as it became the highest grossing film of 1972 (and was at the time the highest grossing film of all time), introduced the world to a ton of acting heavyweights as well as reinvigorated the career of Marlon Brando, managed to take home four awards at the Oscars including Best Adapted Screenplay and Best Picture, and is still helmed as a timeless classic that’s responsible for a ton of iconic lines and sequences that are still copied to this day. Whether you’re a connoisseur or a sproutling to the world of cinema, all should be familiar with The Godfather.

In 1945 New York City, the Corleone family has gathered to celebrate the wedding of Connie Corleone (played by Talia Shire), the only daughter to Vito Corleone (played by Marlon Brando), the family don who has made a name for himself as an effective mafia patriarch who is also extremely dedicated to his family, especially his children. Those in the family business include eldest son, Sonny (played by James Caan), the middle child, Fredo (played by John Cazale), and Vito’s consigliere and adopted son, Tom Hagen (played by Robert Duvall), with the only outsider being the youngest son, Michael (played by Al Pacino) who mostly remains uninvolved with family affairs and instead went to fight in World War II and fell in love with a woman named Kay (played by Diane Keaton). This changes however when Vito is nearly killed by a rival group, which forces Vito’s children to take on leadership positions, pushing Michael closer to the world he claimed to want no part of. With bodies piling up and with Michael being one of the few remaining who can lead the family, his chances at a normal life seem to have dissipated, which puts his relationship with Kay at odds as she sees the kind of man he’s turning into.

A movie so iconic that the praises write themselves, this movie has very strong performances, a weighty atmosphere that feels both elegant and graphic, and a very strong screenplay that combines a complicated narrative with a familial core to result in something very special. It isn’t without its flaws, which can be felt mainly during the second act, but they aren’t anywhere near strong enough to damage its reputation.

Paramount acquired the rights to the novel in 1967 and with Mario Puzo and Francis Ford Coppola signing on mainly as a means of earning money during a rough period of their careers, the fallout that came during production was not very easy to work through. Many of the producers and even Puzo himself had issues with Coppola’s decision-making, the movie had to deal with passive intimidation from the actual mafia who didn’t want the movie negatively portraying them, several actors were up for contention for the major parts, and all of this inflated the film’s production budget more and more, which worried the film’s financiers who already had little faith in Coppola’s money handling (they even considered replacing him with Elia Kazan if things continued going down this path). In spite of this, the film did manage to reach completion, and it not only paid off in a critical and commercial sense but also helped reshape several components of cinema that have lasted even after all this time. The film has a lot of clear allusions to gangster films of the past, but unlike those examples, which were gritty and unfiltered but still mostly kept underneath a cinematic lens, this film feels very clean-cut and doesn’t shy away from any muddiness that would undoubtedly come from this lifestyle. The film is very much like a piece of art from the European Renaissance era; visually stunning, designed in a flawlessly artistic metric and contains a wonderfully ancient yet still timeless design that feels almost biblical in spirit, but manages to capture this beauty whilst still featuring irregular-looking people, striking color tones, and extremely lude, sexual and even violent content. It’s refined and distinguished, yet also unsightly and harrowing, it’s a unique blend that worked for the artwork and works here as well.

The scripting by Puzo is also very well done, balancing the extreme machinations of a criminal underbelly against a growing personal tragedy about a family being broken apart by surrounding conflicts which forces them to lose their humanity bit by bit. It can feel a little over complicated in the specifics and isn’t always easy to follow, but that prevailing human connection (which came from Coppola’s own additions to the story due to being a devoted family man himself) really helps make this film feel like more than just another gangster story. Coppola’s direction brings an authenticity to the story, preventing any forced stereotypes or expected outcomes, and really makes this world and situation feel real and unapologetic. The opening 20 mins perfectly illustrates the vibe of the story and every character’s role and purpose right away, and the ending which shows Michael’s descent into becoming the new Don Corleone is also very well done and feels quietly bittersweet, but the middle of the movie doesn’t feel as flawlessly constructed as these other portions. It’s still very well done, and houses good direction, writing and acting, but the scenes feel a little less purposeful, drag on longer than they need to, and don’t further too much about the characters, so it’s the only noticeable blemish.

Despite being a film that’s heavily led by its narrative, the characters are crucial to its success as they help make this premise feel more personal. While the book kept the same outline, the film tried to include a stronger family connection, which feels like the better solution to really turn this gangster thriller into something more akin to a gritty human drama. It ups the stakes when someone is injured or killed, highlights how the importance of being with your loved ones is a component of the mafia that has been largely consistent throughout various different portrayals, and even though a lot of these characters are not the best people, adding in that component of attachment amongst blood does allow for at least a hint of sympathy. This is felt the most with Marlon Brando as Vito Corleone, who is essentially the face of the movie as well as one of the two main characters, and even though he could come across as very one note, the way his character is written and performed makes him feel like more than just a trope. Considering Brando was almost not cast due to various executives not wanting to deal with his notorious difficult behavior, he was eventually given the part on Coppola’s insistence, and that turned out to be the right call.

While Brando’s method acting can result in some awkward and inconvenient situations, he has proven to be a pretty strong actor several times over, and while this role does feel more like a character than a real person, he proves to be a very memorable character, with a voice, accent, mannerisms and lines that are very iconic and have remained in pop culture to this day. Although his screen time is surprisingly small, he definitely leaves an impression, as do the rest of the actors. Al Pacino was a very good choice for Michael, as he is perfectly able to capture the composure of a man who looks normal on the outside yet is harboring a monstrous fury on the inside that comes out in a terrifying fashion. While Pacino does this great, it’d would’ve been nice if the audience were allowed to see that transition from unassuming outsider to head of the family a bit more, as the lack of an inner monologue (which the book would’ve had) limits the context of how he is mentally reaching this decision, and it arguably leaves the role feeling more two-dimensional than three. This kind of rings true for a majority of the characters, as while they aren’t bad and are played pretty well, they don’t feel as nuanced as they arguably should because we aren’t given the chance to truly understand them during all the chaos, so it would’ve been nice if they were given a little extra to feel more complex and interesting rather than tools to the story. This is the most apparent with all of the female characters, with Talia Shire, Simonetta Stefanelli and even Diane Keaton being stuck with fairly basic roles that provide nothing more than background support, and because they have at least some relevance to the major narrative conflict, their lack of depth feels even more notable.

The film has a very distinct look to it not only due to the Italian iconography which has become synonymous with this franchise, but also through the yellow filter present throughout that was apparently a stylistic decision by cinematographer Gordon Willis. While it might run the risk of making everything look ugly as yellow is a pretty hard and unnatural color to frequently see, the warmer shade that it uses allows it to be more atmospheric than unattractive and during certain moments like in a party environment, a crowded housing unit, or even during a Christening, it makes the area feel more natural, and the dimmer lighting means that any scene has the chance of being either cozy or threatening. The movie in general does a great job handling its tougher moments, with the scenes where characters are being killed feeling particularly startling due to the minimal movement or commotion, the realistic acting that demonstrates people dying in a disturbingly accurate way, and the deafening silence which just makes the sudden end of life all the more abrupt. You don’t know when to expect it, and because no character feels entirely safe, it creates some fun tension. The musical score by Nino Rota is a perfect encapsulation of what the film is, carrying this sense of importance, regal-ness and foreboding. The very soft opening with the trumpets makes it feel like an unassuming motif, yet the more and more it escalates and gets louder, it feels a lot more bombastic and showier without ever losing its traditional roots, it’s a great piece.

The Godfather doesn’t need explanation, but considering its pedigree, you’d figure that it might’ve reached a point where it couldn’t possibly live up to expectations, but against all odds, it mostly still does and more than shows why it was a monumental film for the era. With that said, it doesn’t feel like the perfect movie as there are a few tiny issues surrounding the second act and the handling of some of its characters, but those feel like components that would be improved upon later in the sequel (which is also helmed as one of the greatest movies ever made), so even something viewed as flawless knew what to improve upon next time. Even if it feels imposing to approach, The Godfather will welcome you lovingly and prove to you that you’re in good hands.