Great acting but distracting structure

Rating: 9/10 (27 July 2014)

The original "Godfather" created the template for every mob movie thereafter. Gangsters previously were either celebrated or loathed, but never well understood. Then "Bonnie and Clyde," released five years earlier, attempted to humanize criminals by showing not only the spectacular bank heists and subsequent car chases, but also the mundane, banal and tragic nature of such a lifestyle. But B&C weren't Mafiosi. "Godfather" portrayed the Mafia as a unique and fascinating subset of society. Along with the requisite violence, we see the gangsters with their families, at weddings and christenings, or planning a multiple murder over takeout Chinese. Most of all, it is a portrait of Michael Corleone, the war hero and prodigal son, who returns to the fold and ends up running the show.
In "Godfather II" Michael is running much more than a crime family. He's a big shot whose son's first communion is celebrated by senators and other luminaries. As Hyman Roth famously tells him, "Michael, we're bigger than US Steel." But his personal life is disintegrating. Michael has promised Kay, his wife, that he's "going legitimate" but it's clearly not working, and we wonder about the sincerity of the promise. The family narrowly escapes a hit following the communion ceremony, initiating a series of retributions that we know will not stop.
Meanwhile, a series of flashbacks to Sicily show Vito, the paterfamilias, as a young boy who himself survives an assassination attempt (his mother is not so lucky), sails to America and sets himself up as a street hood who through guile and guts takes over the neighborhood rackets. He is respected and feared, but he's not without compassion. When his wife tells him of a friend who's having trouble keeping her apartment, Vito intervenes on her behalf. He didn't have to do it, and there's really nothing in it for him.
This is the central contrast in the film. Vito is undoubtedly a criminal who'll kill anyone in his way, but there's a humanity behind his calculations. Michael, who disdains his criminal family at the beginning of "Godfather I" and shows a naïve, even playful side, has lost his humanity by the end of that picture, and that hardness only deepens in "Godfather II". The only glimpse we see of that earlier man occurs in a scene with his mother, in which he asks how his father kept the family together. It's a rare example of self-doubt in an otherwise scheming, manipulative and deeply cynical personality. When he learns that his weak older brother, Fredo, helped set up the botched Lake Tahoe hit, he permits him to live, but only while their mother lives. By the end of the movie Michael has lost his family (his natural one), and any remnant of human feeling.
The structure of "Godfather II" is problematic for me. The repeated flashbacks to the young Vito, while engaging, interrupt the flow of the film. That this is a strategic error on Coppolla's part was demonstrated when one of the networks aired a miniseries, "The Godfather Saga" a few years after the sequel. It took a strictly chronological approach: beginning with scenes of young Vito in Sicily from "Godfather II" and then continuing with "Godfather I". (Some scenes were edited or omitted entirely, in conformance with network TV standards, while others not appearing in the films were included.) This merging of narratives conveyed all the power of both movies without the distracting flashback device to form a much more coherent whole.
What to say about the cast of "Godfather II"? It is uniformly excellent. DeNiro's Vito is pitch-perfect. Keaton's performance as Kay is striking in its nuanced disaffection as she grows to realize that her husband has no inclination to go straight. Dominic Chianese gives a strong performance as Johnny Ola, a quarter-century ahead of Junior Soprano. Michael V. Gazzo, as the harried, doomed Frankie Pentangeli, won a supporting-actor nod, and his might be the best performance of the film. Talia Shire, as sister Connie, shines as the floozy who -- like Michael in the first film -- finally returns to the fold.
But it's Pacino and Cazale who really carry this picture. Theirs is a complex, combustible relationship: the strong, ruthless younger brother and the skittish, increasingly resentful older brother share two memorable, but radically different, scenes. In the first, Fredo has just arrived in Havana with Roth's $2 million. They repair to a street cafe for daiquiris as Michael pretends to confide in Fredo -- in fact everything he says is a lie. But Fredo is appreciative of the confidence and regrets that the two never spoke so intimately before. Later, after Fredo stupidly reveals to Michael his association with Roth and Ola, Michael severs their relationship in the harshest terms. Fredo is practically recumbent in his chair, even as he insists that "I'm smart! Not stupid like everybody says. I want respect!" But he's not smart: he's a dead man, and everybody knows it but him. Cazale plays the pathos for all it's worth.
The film ends with yet another flashback. It's Christmas, and the brothers have planned a welcome-home for the Don (never seen). Michael announces that he's joining the Army, winning congratulations from Fredo, bewilderment from Tom, and scorn from Sonny. This is evidently Michael's reverie, perhaps driven by the guilt of killing Fredo and his brutal treatment of Kay. Flash to present: Michael is seated outside his Tahoe estate, his only companions the fallen leaves whipping around his feet.
It's a real tour de force, this movie. It is flawed in its conception but brilliant in its execution. I can see why many people think it's the best sequel ever, even better than the original. I just can't take it that far. It may be the best sequel, but it nonetheless suffers by comparison to its predecessor.