Coppola Must Run on Frantic Drama, Frustration, Violence and Seemingly Nothing Else In His Life To Make a Great Film

Rating: 8/10 (2 October 2008)

The third chapter in this everlasting series of films is certainly the saddest of the trilogy, because as well as being an impression of characterizations and events from mob history, such as mob-related conspiracy behind the death of Pope John Paul I and Joey Zasa (played entertainingly by Joe Mantegna) being a creatively ironic amalgam of two real-life gangsters who hated each other, it is also a study of Michael Corleone, now a middle-aged man who did not foresee such regret and remorse for his ruthless conquests in the previous films. In his attempts to use the wealth and power he has gained from those bloody triumphs, he tries to cleanse his family name, under the quietly desperate delusion that it is not an exercise in futility. For if it were not, there would be no opposition for his extensive criminal history to the landmark international real estate deal he works to seal. Nor would his old New York partners want in on the deal, an affair that tips the first domino in a succession of violence, betrayal, and scandal amongst the highest of statuses (stati?).
Though there was great reluctance from Coppola to make a third installment, which was greenlit for the sake of understandably anticipated box office returns, it becomes an important part of the story of the Corleone family, even if it does not measure up to its two immortal predecessors. We see the modern effects of the conservation of the preceding generations. Michael suffers for his father's legacy, and Michael's stubbornness to preserve his own, though it has grown weather-beaten by the time during which the film takes place, has created a barrier of communication between himself and his wife and children, a classic senior having planned a much different future than he's received. Even Talia Shire's character, Connie, Michael's sister, is a completely different person in this movie than she was in the last. It is not a poor characterization but a very realistic one, as a woman from that generation who has resigned herself to the life into which she was born. There is no mention from her of Michael's order of her husband's death, for instance. She is not the meek, vulnerable soul she was before but astonishingly transformed into a highly competent adviser to her brother.
However, even despite Mascagni's Cavalleria Rusticana being a cherry on top of the most beautiful musical theme in the history of film, the movie is inarguably the weakest of the three Godfather films. There is hardly a way of defending the idea that it surpasses or even equals its predecessors, which in the case of both had such a distinctly powerful touch not only at the helm but in the case of all departments. Here, the dialogue is weak with typical final-chapter-in-American-trilogy visibly scripted wisdom. I also have a hard time understanding why Andy Garcia, a Cuban, was cast as an Italian when so many hot-blooded young Italian actors could have played that role just as well as he did. Those are flaws some can accept and others have a difficult time accepting, and one cannot complain directly about Garcia's performance. (Besides, his father Sonny was played by James Caan and his grandfather by Marlon Brando, neither of whom are Italian.) The inextricable misnomer is one of the most well-known in contemporary cinema history, the casting of Sofia Coppola as Mary, Michael's daughter. I will not plunge into criticism because I know the poor girl suffered quite enough at the time, what with the Razzie awards, countless notices, and other such humiliating things. I am glad she was able to redeem herself by becoming a director like her father, a completely different style all her own, not plainly influenced by Francis, an unaffected subtlety as opposed to his inherent need to outdo himself, which brings me to another thought on this film's weakness.
The Godfather Part III, now that I've rewatched it as a grown person and refreshed my memory and understanding of it, has supplied me with a theory as to the striking inconsistency in Coppola's filmography. In the 1970s, he made the first two Godfathers and Apocalypse Now, showered with giant personal, political, and artistic obstacles that in some cases almost literally destroyed him. The Conversation was made entirely from scratch. These films are his great works. After Apocalypse Now, the quality of his films took a major nosedive and even now, as he has recently returned to the director's chair with Youth Without Youth, he cannot seem to regain his aim. Godfather III is very telling. In comparison to the danger, conflicts and drama throughout the first two productions, Part III was a walk in the park. He had to fight for those films and that passion is what made them so incredible. Part III was handed to him, and because it was the other way around entirely, he had a hard time committing to the project, thus the film is clearly made with much less ardor and feeling, though the set design and atmosphere are still not one ounce short of top-notch. Coppola must run on frantic drama, frustration, violence and seemingly nothing else to make a great film. However, considering the relatively peaceful circumstances of Part III's production, he succeeded to a good extent.