Just as it’s no understatement to say The Godfather is on every
guy’s list of favorite films, The Godfather is also the rare film that
indisputably defines a cinematic genre. It’s really is a landmark in the
cinematic firmament because before 1972 there was no film like it. But since
1972 there have been waves of films that have borrowed themes, motifs, mood and
whatever else from The Godfather. The genealogy of every mafia and gangster
film has the DNA of The Godfather coursing through its celluloid veins. Even
cinema’s little brother television has found itself serving up shows that
invariably tip their hat to The Godfather. There would be no Sopranos without
the Corleones.
Directed by Francis Ford Coppola, The Godfather pretty much
became a turned key in the ignition of the careers of all those who starred in
it: Al Pacino, James Caan, Robert Duvall and Diane Keaton. As for Marlon
Brando, it’s difficult to quantify how much the role of Vito revived his
stalling career. But at the very least it represented a grand-slam comeback for
him. So much so that I almost don’t even remember that he starred in The Island
of Dr. Moreau (I said almost).
The Godfather received a gargantuan hall of 11 Oscar
nominations. Given the legendary status this film has accrued since its
release, it’s kind of startling to know that it ended up making an offer that
only three golden boys couldn’t refuse. Although it did nab the big prize for
Best Picture in 1972, three total statuettes somehow seems paltry for a film of
The Godfather’s magnitude and quality. To be fair, I should point out that
Pacino, Caan and Duvall were all lumped into the Best Supporting Actor
category, meaning they pretty much cannibalized each other’s chances of
emerging victorious. But over the years, other aspects of the film, from its
score to its edgy-for-its-time cinematography, have generated a lot of
discussion and analysis, not to mention the copious amounts of ink lauding
their artistry. So it’s puzzling to me that The Godfather didn’t scoop up more
Oscars in the below-the-line categories.
In terms of Oscar trivia, Brando’s win for Best Actor
heightened the actor’s decision to boycott the ceremony and his refusal to
collect his trophy. His absence created an even bigger stir when he sent Native
American rights activist Sacheen Littlefeather to the podium in his stead,
where she proceeded to explain Brando’s refusal of the Oscar stemmed from his
objections to the way Native Americans had been portrayed in film and on
television. Littlefeather’s speech was met largely with applause, punctuated by
some boos, making it a distinguished moment in Oscar history.
In addition to Brando, Pacino also stayed in his jammies the
night of the Oscars, apparently pissed off that he was demoted from the Best
Actor category in favor of Brando because Pacino had more screen time. I get that
argument, but boo freaking hoo Pacino. Don’t be such a divo. The reality is
that screen time has never been and shouldn’t be the only guideline by which
someone is considered a leading actor or supporting actor. The fact is that The
Godfather is an ensemble piece. So yeah, Vito disappears for long swaths of the
film’s running time, but so does Michael. However, timing debates aside, the
plain reality of the situation is that Brando had a more memorable role and he
crushed it like a bawwwwss. Not to diminish Pacino’s work, but Brando’s
performance has truly attained iconic status. Whenever anyone hears the title
The Godfather, they instantly picture Brando’s Vito sitting in his dark, wood-paneled
office contemplating, slightly brushing his puffed out cheeks with the back of
his fingers; or else they hear Vito say, in his raspy voice, “I’m gonna make
him an offer he can’t refuse.” So sorry Pacino, but boycotting the Oscars is
total sour grapes buddy. Be a team player and have respect for the fact that
your costar blew you and the rest of the film’s cast right out of the water,
which, when considering how amazing the performances were, is nothing to hang
your head in shame over.
Anyway, at this point in the post is where I typically
proceed to recap the film’s plot. But if you’re not already familiar with at
least the basic story of The Godfather, I’m certainly not going to recap it for
you hear. Simply put, you need to elevate the level of your cultural literacy.
It’s one of the most famous films of all time, and if you don’t know the plot,
then get your act together and go see it. Whatever “priorities” you have going
on in your life can wait, capiche?!
Like I said earlier, The Godfather is an ensemble film
filled with a police lineup of standout performances. For anyone who loves
cinema, few things are more satisfying than watching a film where everyone from
the main characters to the shoe-shiner level roles with one line all deliver
the goods. It’s one thing all the truly great films have in common. Of course
Brando is spectacular, while Pacino and Cann are terrific in every sense of the
word. But in watching The Godfather this time around, I was struck by a new
appreciation for Duvall’s performance as the family attorney Tom Hagan. It’s
definitely a more subtle and quiet performance, especially side by side with Caan’s
explosive Sonny Corleone. But Duvall illustrates a hushed strength through Tom’s
loyalty and gratitude to Vito, making him a compelling character. It’s Tom’s
calm demeanor and ability to eschew boiling over that makes watching Duvall no
less than thrilling to watch because you get a sense that lurking beneath the surface
is a checked intensity capable of anything. This creates an interesting type of
suspense because as the action takes a new turn and the world for the Corleones
changes you find yourself wondering how Tom is going to react. Perhaps the best
example of this is Tom’s visit with a naïve Hollywood producer, who hotly and abrasively
turns away Vito’s request to cast his godson in the part of a film. To lean on
him a little, Tom gets creative and tucks the producer into his satin bed with
the severed head of his prized stallion. Classic.
There is one complaint about The Godfather that I’m gonna
raise. It’s a small, nitpicky issue, but I’m still going to address it: Did
they have to make Diane Keaton look so awful? I’m a big fan of DK, and I think she
owns a certain beauty that is unique among Hollywood starlets. But the hair and
makeup departments seemed completely hell bent on submerging her into
underneath the sickest looking wigs and nastiest makeup the 1970s had to offer.
From head to toe she looks like something the cat dragged in, took one long
look at and dragged back out from sheer disgust. I know I’m starting to sound
like Joan Rivers and the fashion police, but I really couldn’t get passed how
wrong Keaton looked all throughout the film. Everyone else looked stylishly
appropriate, which made Keaton’s look seem all the more neglected. Fortunately
she is a talented actress who still managed to emerge from the experience with
a great performance. But seriously someone from the wig shop should have been
wacked for botching this deal.
Favorite Line: I
gotta go with “I’m gonna make him an offer he can’t refuse.” I mean that’s it.
There’s nothing more to say. Ciao.
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