A masterpiece

Rating: 10/10 (31 March 2004)

This is one of the greatest films ever made. Any doubt about that can be dispelled by watching the movie. I missed this when it first came out, and then a curious thing happened. For some reason I thought I had seen the film. One decade and then two went by and I kept hearing what a great film The Godfather was. But I was unimpressed because I thought I had seen it.
I don't know what film I had seen, but it wasn't The Godfather. Seeing this film for the first time over thirty years after the fact of its production is a startling experience. The Godfather is a work of art from first scene to last. There is the most amazing adherence to that fiction which is truer than fact.
I would like to say that I played cards with Mario Puzo who wrote the novel from which the film was adapted and who famously worked with Coppola on the screenplay, but in fact I only played cards with some people who had played cards with Puzo. Ah, such is the effect of celebrity. Puzo became like Coppola something of a legend after this film was produced, and everybody suddenly knew him or played cards with him. Everybody, from the most unsophisticated celluloid fan to the most erudite and jaded critic had walked out of that theater after 171 minutes mesmerized and delighted and emotionally moved by an uncompromising look at not just a Mafia family, but the psychology of families since time immemorial. The truth that we have all lived and experienced was made large on the screen in the form of the Corleones. I can guarantee you that audiences from every culture on the planet would understand the underlying psychology of this movie and take it to some serious extent as their own.
Marlon Brando plays the godfather (the patriarch, of course, or even the warlord if you like) of the past and the present, and then, as must always be the case, comes a new godfather. What is fascinating is who this new godfather is and how he comes to power. The ending of the film is--after so many brilliant scenes and so many psychologically true surprises and so many excursions to Queens and the Bronx and Sicily and Las Vegas (each vignette absolutely integrated into the story of the film)--even more ponderously true and a surprise that sneaks up on us so stealthily that it is not a surprise. And when the credits begin to run after Diana Keaton's tears of realization, we too realize the "message" of the film. It is a message that I think would be understood in the Middle East today (and two thousand years ago as well) as I write this, a message of tribal ways and the rise and fall of warlords and the Machiavellian machinations of the prince who would be king.
But it is Al Pacino's performance as the son of the godfather that in the final analysis steals the show as he goes from the intellectual boy who would be a legitimate American success at the finest colleges, etc. to a man wearing the hat of Al Capone. And Pacino makes us believe every step of the way.
Well, I should not say that it Al Pacino who steals the show. In truth this is Francis Ford Coppola's masterpiece. He would not have the film he has without Al Pacino or Marlon Brandon and certainly not without the novel and script from Mario Puzo, of course; but make no mistake about it. Coppola manicured every scene. He attended to every detail, from the color of the wine to the tires on the cars to the dances and the music to the villas abroad to the sleaze of Las Vegas to the perfect casting of the main characters right down to the extras including both cute and not so cute kids, as indeed life would give us. In some very real sense Coppola lived this movie and it was a part of him, and yet I am stuck by the fact that Puzo invented it.
This is an American classic, an uncompromising work of art that engages, informs and moves the audience--just about any audience--to ask the great questions regarding who we are and what we should do and how we should live.
From the wedding to the funeral to the christening to the priest in Latin voice-over as the final vengeance is planned to that final vengeance (that we know will NOT be the final vengeance), we are glued to our seats as the life of human beings (who could very well be us) passes before our transfixed eyes.
Oscars went to Brando as best actor, and to Puzo and Coppola for best screen adaptation. In a rare show of almost universal agreement among movie goers, critics, and the Academy, The Godfather won the Oscar as Best Picture in 1972.
Don't miss this as I had for so long, and see it for Coppola who can take his place among the greats of all cinema for this film alone.
(Note: Over 500 of my movie reviews are now available in my book "Cut to the Chaise Lounge or I Can't Believe I Swallowed the Remote!" Get it at Amazon!)