I watched Francis Ford Coppola's The Godfather (1972) and the Godfather Part II (1974) over the weekend and what impressed with these latest viewings is that Michael Corleone dies in the first film. Michael is the college boy, war hero who was not meant to be in the family business — organized crime — but gets sucked in after an unsuccessful attempt on his father’s life and then takes over after the death of Sonny.
No, Michael does not physically die in either movie and in facts lives until the very end of the ill-fated third installment of the Godfather series, the Godfather Part III (1999). (If you've never seen Godfather 111, don't bother.) But he is completely bereft of life by the end of the first film. He is cold, calculating and lacking all emotion save a red hot temper which occasionally flares but that he ultimately controls. That temper may seem a sign of life, but it is more a special effect meant to frighten a rival, a subordinate or a spouse.
When we first meet Michael he is a young man just out of the army. With his girlfriend, Kay, in tow, he is at his sister’s wedding. He tells Kay about his father helping a singer get out of a contract with a bandleader by saying that either the bandleader's signature or his brains are about to be on the contract. Michael assures Kay, “that's my family Kay, that's not me.” Michael is in earnest, he’s chosen a different path in life, content to let his older brothers, Sonny and Fredo follow Pop into the family business. Michale appears to be a charming, affable sort.
Later we see a smiling Michael and Kay Christmas shopping and then coming out of a movie theater. It’s the last time we’ll see Michael smile. Because after that last smile Michael sees a newspaper account of the shooting of his father (remarkably in the movie’s timeline it happened only an hour or so ago; one supposes a great film is entitled to one mistake — never mind how glaring).
The most viewed and commented of all my blog posts was one in which I posed the question: when does Michael Corleone change from being Joe College to being Joe Mafia? In it I suggested six possible moments The first was a visit to the hospital where his father’s bodyguards have been sent away and he has to take immediate command of his father's security. Other options were when he is punched by the police captain; when he offers to commit the above-mentioned assassinations; when he does said deed; when he learns of Sonny’s murder and when he sees his Sicilian wife killed. I now add a second question: when does Michael die inside? It could well be that it was at the same instant when he embraced the life of a mobster, certainly by the time he became Don.
There is no more laughter nor signs of joy from Michael. There are perfunctory displays of affection with Kay and their children but there is no warmth. On a few occasions his temper explodes but he quickly has it under control. There is no physicality to Michael, no spontaneity, seemingly no pumping heart.
There are two remarkable scenes in which an inner turmoil is betrayed by his eyes thus perhaps suggesting some signs of life. The first is in the seconds leading up to his shooting the captain and mob rival, Sollozzo. A subway train is rattling loudly overhead as Sollozzo is talking to him. But Michael is looking down, his eyes moving up and down as he prepares to shoot two men in cold blood. There is a lot going on in his face, but ultimately Michael cooly dispatches his victims. The second is late in Part II when Kay is telling him she did not have a miscarriage but an abortion. Again his eyes reflect the inner turmoil, the disbelief and rage. A burst of anger follows during which he slaps Kay. But that's it.
Mostly what we get from Michael is nothing. Every word he utters, every movement he makes is as if rehearsed.
Living beings aren’t like that. Michael is dead inside and one of the saddest — albeit most dangerous — characters in filmdom. It is a staggering performance by Pacino, some of the greatest acting in movie history.
He embodied an especially pernicious evil that wears a suit, says the right things and calls itself a businessman. The story of Michael Corleone is a classic tragedy. How and why did he die inside? Was it the only way he could carry the often nasty family business? Did he kill something inside himself when he shot two men to death? Did he die inside when he saw his wife die?
OTHER THOUGHTS ON THE GODFATHER
The scenes in early 20th century New York featuring Robert DeNiro as the young Vito are some of the best in cinema history. Having visited Ellis Island recently and read its history, I’m amazed at how accurately they depict not only the place but the time. The street scenes seem like they must be colorized re-mastered contemporary footage. The clothes, the signage, the buildings, the carts, everything looks precisely as it would in New York circa 1915....
I love this bit of dialogue between Michael and Kay: Michael: "My father is no different than any powerful man, any man with power, like a president or senator." Kay: "Do you know how naive you sound, Michael? Presidents and senators don't have men killed." Michael: "Oh. Who's being naive, Kay?" Clearly Kay is being naive. One of the major themes of the Godfather and something found after a lot of recent research into organized crime, is the extent to which the mob, “legitimate businesses” and the government have joined forces over the years. Gus Russo’s book The Outfit details the manner in which criminal organization and major corporations are barely distinguishable any more. When you note the manner in which both evade paying taxes, it is evident that they are ever expanding monsters consuming all the riches and resources in their path with no intent to re-invest or contribute it. The mob and big business don't so much have a symbiotic relationship as they are now one and the same....
Much is made about how the Godfather is about family and certainly the films shine a light on family dynamics, particularly father-son relationships which are so often fraught with contradictory notions of rebellion and conformity. Trying to please dad while trying to assert you are your own person is a difficult balancing act many sons face. Sons are also desperate to win their father’s approval and it feel like a validation of a life well-lived to have a father's love and respect. Here Michael is a total success. Initially going his own way and ultimately winning the complete trust of his father to take over the family business. Fredo is a sad figure, he's older than Michael yet passed over and given menial jobs. And under pressure he folds. When his father is shot, Fredo fumbles with his gun and the breaks down and cries.....
We get insight into Fredo when Michael comes to visit Las Vegas -- where Fredo is already ensconced -- to talk business with Moe Greene. Fredo has arranged to have a band and group of girls in Michael's room when he arrives (girls who are undoubtedly there to do the biding of the male guests). When Michael enters the room Fredo starts the festivities expecting a grateful Michael to participate in the revelry. But the new Don is having none of it, he’s there on a short business trip with no time for fun let alone bacchanalia. (“I'm here on business I leave tomorrow now get rid of them. Come on, I'm tired. Get rid of the band, too.”) Fredo quickly assumes a serious tones and rushes the band and the girls out of the room as if it’s their fault. Clearly his ego has taken another beating. Nothing he ever does is right or good enough....
Fredo's story is a sad and ends with Michael assigning him a cruel and unnecessary fate. Michael’s act of fratricide serves no purpose other than to sate his insatiable desire for revenge. Also horribly cruel is what he says to Fredo earlier in the film: "Fredo, you're nothing to me now. You're not a brother, you're not a friend. I don't want to know you or what you do. I don't want to see you at the hotels, I don't want you near my house. When you see our mother, I want to know a day in advance, so I won't be there. You understand?" Talking like that to a sibling requires a special level of coldness....
Underling Pauli is shot in the head in “leave the gun, take the cannoli” scene, while later brother-in-law, Carlo is garroted. Both in a car. Why? Who decides which way a disloyal family member is going to be killed? Garroting seems a lot of work. Carlo kicks out a car window while in his death throes. Of course shooting him means blood all over the place. We don’t know how Tessio is murdered, all we see him driven off with a carful of men. Evidently the large crew is along to facilitate the accompanying burial....
The Godfather films demonstrate one important way in which the Mafia was able to maintain power, especially within smaller communities. You need justice done? Vengeance? Why waste time with “the authorities” who might not come through for you anyway? If you’re in tight with the local mob boss (and you better be) he’ll take care of it for you. The mob takes care of its people. You might owe them a favor but it would be a small price to pay for the safety they provide. And it to be connected, to be part, to be able to participate in -- perhaps by doing a favor -- this powerful organization brings a security and sense of belonging that not everyone enjoys....
The first two Godfather films represent the best of American cinema. A perfect marriage of screenplay, direction, acting, editing, set design and soundtrack. It is rich with themes and ideas and colorful characters and compelling story lines and is well worth revisiting many, many times.
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