Abroad, they see us this way. Mandolin, pizza, and mafia. And the fault, partially, can also be attributed to Francis Ford Coppola.
Born in Detroit but trained in New York, Coppola is an unusual American: not only because his father Carmine played the flute in front of Arturo Toscanini, nor because his mother, an actress by profession, was named Italia. He's unusual because, despite a decade of great masterpieces (the Seventies) and two decades (the Eighties and Nineties) full of good films, he remains an artist with a typically European mindset. When he talks about America, he can't help but talk about Italy; when narrating the adventures that shook the young lives sent to Vietnam, he quotes Richard Wagner; and he seals his career by making a film dedicated to one of the most enigmatic European characters: Dracula.
Coppola began as an assistant director to Roger Corman, but his main activity was that of a screenwriter. And he wrote several screenplays, some even Oscar-winning ("Patton"), but no one would have bet even two lire on financing him to make a film. So Coppola decided to take the risk at his own expense. He heavily reworked a novel by Mario Puzo and created "The Godfather". The film, which would be released in theaters in 1972, is a powerful story of a typically patriarchal family, where the values of honor, respect, and friendship try to align with the codes of honor typical of the mafia. The story is powerful because it follows a logical iron thread: the success and crisis of the Corleone family are told across different narrative planes. The apparent calm of many sequences shatters a few minutes later, interrupted by the brutal violence typical of the classically clichéd mafia. Yet, there are few clichés here: the view Coppola presents of the mafia is neither condescending nor affectionate; it is a lucid, detached, involved yet unsentimental vision.
At least a trio of memorable sequences: the opening with the godfather's daughter's wedding in progress (almost half an hour); the famous horse's head that the mafia leaves in the bed of an unwary film producer; and the death, a fatal stroke, that strikes the godfather while playing with his grandchild. The tones are of the highest caliber, a wisely calibrated mix of pathos and Greek tragedy, with the theme of betrayal (typical of classical theater) recurring throughout the film. Naturally, among the themes tackled by Coppola, there is also the thorny issue of the intersection and coexistence of mafia and civil society, but it remains somewhat superficial and will be better and more deeply narrated in "The Godfather - Part II".
Obviously, in this genre of film, the plot only matters up to a certain point. Without high-ranking actors or strong characterizations, one risks missing the mark. For the role of the godfather, Coppola initially called for a series of actors, honestly, not very suitable: Ernest Borgnine, Orson Welles, George C. Scott, Burt Lancaster. The role went to Marlon Brando. The almost unreal caricature Brando presents of the godfather alone is worth more than half the film: cotton in the mouth to puff up the cheeks, gray hair, a crooked walk, the 47-year-old actor looked twenty years older, but he was a practically perfect godfather. Unforgettable when he delivers almost Shakespearian sentences, indelible when he gestures approval or disapproval. Epic when, at the beginning of the film, he decides to grant a favor to an old friend, and monumental when staging a death as tragic as it is profoundly touching. He is the icon of the entire film, despite not appearing for more than half of it, and when talking about "The Godfather", the first image that comes to mind is the distorted face of that giant, Marlon Brando. Beside him, Coppola chose a relatively young cast guaranteed to succeed: James Caan, Robert Duvall, John Cazale, Diane Keaton, Talia Shire (later Adrian in "Rocky"), and the semi-unknown Al Pacino, who from here on embarked on a brilliant career.
The film won 3 Oscars (eight statuettes won by Bob Fosse's "Cabaret" stung), and one of these was awarded to Marlon Brando, who outshined the competition of Laurence Olivier and Peter O'Toole. Brando, in a dispute with the jury, did not attend to receive the Oscar and sent an actress dressed as an Indian on stage, posing as a true Apache. Her speech defending the Indians caused a stir, and Brando, despite films of great respect ("Last Tango in Paris", "Apocalypse Now"), did not even receive another nomination.
Given the worldwide success of "The Godfather", Paramount proposed that Coppola make a sequel. And so it was. In 1974, "The Godfather - Part II" saw the light. There's an old rule in Hollywood that says: the second is always inferior to the first. In part, it's true, but never before had the rule been so betrayed. The sequel to the first godfather, although less famous than its predecessor, is superior to its predecessor. More or less, Coppola always makes the same film, with grand moments of calm and long bloody shootouts. The story, however, shifts to the youth of the boss Corleone, Don Vito, the role Marlon Brando played two years earlier. The film tells of his arrival in New York in the early 1900s, and in parallel continues the story from the first movie. Al Pacino is the absolute protagonist of the film, and he represents, in Coppola's intention, the example of the new mafia. With Brando dead, and therefore Don Vito, Al Pacino/Mike Corleone decides to manage the family differently: bolder and at the same time more insecure, Mike will even go so far as to kill his brother Fredo, accused of betrayal.
An anguishing parable on America and politics, where the interests of the mafia coincide with those of world political events. Mike moves perfectly, dismantles the family from within, and manages to shake off the lingering ghost of his father, Don Vito. Civil society is too tumultuous a world, and Mike thinks true rigidity and discipline lie within the family, but the American Dream becomes a nightmare without pause, a sort of final compendium of suspicious deaths, orchestrated killings, and assorted betrayals. Symptomatic, in this case, is the scene where Mike remains silently secluded in his room after having all his closest people killed. Shakespeare in a Hollywood version. Naturally, one cannot forget Robert De Niro, the young Don Vito. His story is somewhat overshadowed, perhaps not well-told, but some scenes are truly masterful, above all the shooting attack in the Sicilian town of Corleone. One of De Niro's best performances, and whether he wears a cap or roams in a tie, it always makes an impression to see him smiling slyly after facing the death of others. "The Godfather - Part II" garnered slightly less audience favor but is a rare case of an environment film dedicated to a commercial purpose. In essence: how to make money without prostituting one's art. Pacino didn't win the Oscar (but De Niro did) and another 7 awards rained down on a pleasantly surprised Francis Ford Coppola. Surprised but not too much, given that it is with this film that the director decides to leave his heavy mark: the sequence narrating the events leading to the fall of gangsters in Cuba is among the most beautifully shot by the director. A particular kudos to Gastone Moschin, always an underestimated Italian actor, here not heavily engaged, but in a role that, in the long run, leaves a mark.
The saga could have ended here. Instead, Coppola decided to continue it and shot a third film in 1990. Undoubtedly inferior to the previous ones, partially because many character actors and interpreters politely declined the invitation, partially because Al Pacino becomes the main protagonist and indulges in frankly negligible excesses of protagonism, and above all because times have changed. Few memorable scenes, a somewhat unsteady script, and an overly insistent cordial reunion atmosphere, but certainly a film superior to any Hollywood claptrap from recent years. Because Coppola might be tired, but when he wants, he has the tenacity of a lion, and the idea of intertwining mafia and the Vatican is, in any case, a stroke of genius. And questioning the death of John Paul I, the Pope who lasted only 33 days, does honor to a director who remains courageous regardless. Despite commercialization unfortunately taking the upper hand. But the show is undoubtedly always of high level.
If I had to express myself in ratings (something that may seem banal but simplifies many concepts), I would give 9 to "The Godfather", 10 to "The Godfather - Part II", and 7 to "The Godfather - Part III". It would be, in stars, a 4.5.
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