The Godfather (1972)

Director: Francis Ford Coppola

Cast: Marlon Brando, Al Pacino, James Caan, Diane Keaton

Have I Seen it Before: I mean, come on. There was one particular Ken in Barbie (2023) that I felt called me out specifically, and that’s probably all you need to know.

I remember first seeing it in the days of the two VHS tapes, as a reward for an unusually industrious book report on the novel in the seventh grade. Before any public school teacher would dare to let me take on such a notoriously vivid novel.

Why has it taken nearly six years to get a review under my belt for this one? Oh, who the hell knows, but I did manage to catch part of it on Thanksgiving while stuck with extended (that word is doing a lot of heavy lifting in this sentence) family. These folks had motion blurring on, drying out every ounce of shadow from Gordon Willis’ photography and rendering the whole affair to look like a soap opera from a third-world nation and not one of the good ones. It was the third most horrifying my senses took in during that particular holiday.

So, yes, I’ve seen the movie a couple of times.

Did I Like It: You might get the sense that I’m spending more time than normal on the “Have I Seen It Before” section than I might for other movies. I’d imagine you’re probably coming to the same conclusion that I did as I started the review: What more can one say about the film that hasn’t already been said?

A movie only runs out of things about which one can say about it if that movie has a nearly perfect degree of staying power. Every single time I see it, I can’t help but think about its airtight plot, its almost overwhelming sense of inevitable tragedy, and the insurmountable need to partake of good Italian food as quickly as possible.

The Godfather has that kind of staying power. If you’ve seen it many times before, but it’s been a while, it is definitely worth another look. If you’ve never seen it, I envy your ability to watch it for the first time. You should take care of that as quickly as possible, and I’m totally fine with being a little bit of a Ken by making that proclamation.

Just, do me a favor: Turn off the motion blurring.

Ocean's Thirteen (2007)

Director: Steven Soderbergh

Cast: George Clooney, Brad Pitt, Matt Damon, Al Pacino

Have I Seen It Before: Oh, sure. Come to think of it, a bunch of college friends in that summer after we all graduated went to see it when we couldn’t get in for Transformers (2007). Even though we ended up with the better choice, I still felt the need to admonish the people lined up* who managed to get tickets before us for being too obsessed with robots that are also cars.

Did I Like It: Even though we ended up with the better choice, it’s hard to avoid viewing this as the weakest of the Ocean’s movies. I so admired Ocean’s Twelve (2004) for conscientiously avoiding the trappings of the sublime first movie in the series. But here we are now, back to creating mischief in a casino. The fact that they’re not trying to actually steal anything, and simply want to bring ruin to the most odious and powerful casino magnate in Nevada (Pacino, who we’ve apparently never heard of before in two previous films) doesn’t change enough to make this demonstrably feel like a re-tread.

The cast has also reached critical mass, which always seemed inevitable. Julia Roberts and Catherine Zeta-Jones disappear under cover a few quick lines of dialogue, as if their importance to the proceedings in the last two films was a mirage this whole time.

Now, that is a lot of complaining for a film that—for being the weakest entry in a trilogy—might very well be the best weakest entry of a trilogy ever made. The style is there. The fun is there. The misdirection is there. Asking for more might be a little greedy.

*God, it’s been so long since I’ve had to stand in line at a multiplex. I don’t miss it.

The Godfather: Coda: The Death of Michael Corleone (2020)

Director: Francis Ford Coppola

Cast: Al Pacino, Diane Keaton, Andy Garcia, Sofia Coppola

Have I Seen it Before: It just came out, so no... But then again, how different can it be from The Godfather, Part III (1990)?

Did I Like It: I approach this with the same uncertainty that I approached the multiple cuts of Apocalypse Now (1979), especially since the original films in both cases are ones I have certainly seen before, but don’t know as well as I do, say, the other Godfather films. 

Do I rewatch the original cut first so I’m more aware of the contrast, or do I watch the film on its own?

I opted for the latter, and I think I’ve come to a conclusion that yes, this new cut is an improvement, but only in the ending. 

That’s not dismissing the qualities of this new version. The ending of the original film was likely my biggest problem with the original film. The often flailing main story of the film concludes, and we cut to Michael Corleone (Pacino) as an old man, living in Sicily. And then he dies. Just tacked on there, completely divorced from the movie that preceded it. 

In this new version, we do see Old Man Michael, but it cuts away before he dies, with a final title indicated that he would live for a while, and never be able to forget how he sold his soul and got the exact opposite of everything he wanted. It’s an even more tragic ending than what was offered, even if it means that the film is about many things, but the death of Michael Corleone is not one of them.

The rest of the film is ultimately just the same as its progenitor. The plot is fine, but Sofia Coppola—who would be the first to admit she had not ambition or desire to become an actor—is the weak link in the chain. The ultimate question becomes, do I recommend this new film? If you have never seen any version of the third Godfather film, then I would recommend this version over the original cut. If you are a fan of the series, then it’s worth a viewing, although now I have the movie twice on Blu Ray, when once would have done. If you’re familiar with the original, and interested to see how much the film has changed, I’ve done the hard work for you.  Don’t buy the hype that the beginning is all that different—it isn’t. Just stop your Blu Ray of the original cut before Michael keels over, and you’ll get the idea.

Heat (1995)

Director: Michael Mann

Cast: Al Pacino, Robert De Niro, Tom Sizemore, Val Kilmer

Have I Seen it Before: No.

Did I Like It: I think for the most part, sure. It is perhaps the seminal crime movie of its age, having an indelible influence on the works of Christopher Nolan, especially The Dark Knight (2008) and Inception (2010)*. In a way that only filmmaker like Mann—and later Nolan—could, the film captures crime and law enforcement in a simultaneously epic and believable way. 

De Niro and Pacino have shown up to work in the film, and indeed it is the last example I can readily come up with where it didn’t seem like they were just showing up on set to pick up a check. Pacino might be particularly amped up to the peak of his late-stage-rage, but that can be fun to watch in the proper context. The rest of the cast, too, is at their best, with even bit parts being inhabited by actors I would watch do other things, all performing at the top of their game. Although it’s hard to watch Hank Azaria do much while I’ve been doing a Simpsons re-watch and not think of the character work he has done there.

But there is just something about the work of Mann that skips over the virtues and keeps everything from being as great as it might be. There’s a mannered, fashionable quality to his films. It keeps Manhunter (1986) from joining the pantheon of other great, Hannibal Lecter adaptations. It kept Public Enemies (2009) from being watchable beyond a sleep aid. Here, you have bank robbery sequences that are as good as anything ever committed to film. The tension never lets up, and never a second is wasted. Then, you have longer music interludes that seem soggy. Composer Elliot Goldenthal can do action music better than anyone, but his emotional beats just don’t work. See Batman Forever (1995) for other examples of Val Kilmer films from 1995 which suffered a similar fate. There are scenes of characters talking around but not to their significant others that feel like they were filmed on a cheap set instead of a real city. 

Then again, that may just be the way L.A. is. 

Those take me right out of the film, but you can’t fault the film for working when it does, because at those moments it is transcendent.

*Seriously, take away the dream-based science fantasy of that later film, and Inception practically is a remake of Heat. For that matter, there’s a reason Willima Fichtner plays the banker. I’ll let you decide which movie I’m talking about.

Glengarry Glen Ross (1992)

Director: James Foley

Cast: Al Pacino, Jack Lemmon, Alec Baldwin, Ed Harris

Have I Seen It Before?: Yes. I may have had the DVD on my shelf for the better part of twenty years, and I’m reasonably sure I haven’t watched it since buying it.

Did I like it?: That’s not to say that the film has no quality! I’m thinking the main reason I haven’t watched it in the last few years because the prospect of watching anything with Kevin Spacey in it is pretty icky. Thankfully his character, Williamson, may not be the villain of the piece, but he certainly gets berated for being subhuman by literally every other human being in the film. We’re not supposed to like anybody in this film, I’d imagine, but there’s something right about people repeatedly telling Spacey to go fuck himself.

Cinematically, the film is flimsy in the extreme. Stylistically stuck in the early nineties, the opening credits almost feel like they belong to a movie made for cable TV. The rest of the film is stagey and practically frozen.

I’m probably tempted to forgive the film for those missteps. While there could have certainly been a bit more adaptation (other than Alec Baldwin’s work in the film’s early minutes, which bewilders me that the play could survive without it), but anything that strayed too far from Mamet’s play would have probably missed the point. We’re not here for camera acrobatics. We’re here to see great actors shout at each other at the top of their lungs and ultimately be made into chumps by fate, Roma included. Honestly, is there anyone in the film who ends up with anything resembling dignity? Even Baldwin’s character is relegated to vain attempts to motivate people he clearly thinks are beyond help. Roma’s (Pacino) lost the Cadillac and may only just barely make it with the steak knives. They’re going to catch Moss (Harris) before too long, especially when Shelley (Lemmon) gives him up to weasel out of the trouble he’s found himself in*.

Is it possible that, at the end of the day that Spacey is the only one who got out ahead? Is he really Keyser Soze? Ugh. I really could do without watching him ever again. Anyone got a bead on grafting Christopher Plummer into the movie?

*I’m now honestly wondering if Moss, despite all of his talk, had anything to do with the theft of the Glengarry leads. Shelley took the opportunity, finally, and it likely destroyed most of them.

Dick Tracy (1990)

Director: Warren Beatty

Cast: Warren Beatty, Madonna, Al Pacino, Glenne Headley

Have I Seen It Before?: The film underperformed at the box office in 1990, negating the possibility of future sequels*. That always seemed unusual to me, as the film was everywhere that summer. Toys, McDonalds, TV… And everyone seemed to see it. Including me.

Did I like it?: There’s no denying that Beatty managed to amass all of the best ingredients to accomplish this film. The cast—especially where the villains are concerned—are an absolute wish list for a film like this. There aren’t a lot of movies that feature new, original songs by Stephen Sondheim, but Beatty somehow managed to make it happen, the score is pure Danny Elfman, even when it seems like it was leftover bits from his score for Batman (1990).

There is little doubt that the production design by Richard Sylbert and set decoration by Rick Simpson (which won an Academy Award for Best Art Direction) is sublime, and deceptively simple in its execution. The stark primary colors of nearly every item on display brings the classic feeling of a comic strip to life far more directly than any other film before or since. The matte paintings might age a little, especially whenever the film attempts to merge them with two separate live-action shots, but they still do have a blinking, glitzy life to them that other films of the era could never hope to achieve.

One wants to say that film may not work as well as it could. Beatty clearly has Madonna on the mind, lingering on her for long stretches that leave the film unfocused. The comedy is hit or miss. Ultimately, Tracy is just too square of hero, and probably benefits from police privilege just a bit too much to enjoy in 2020. But that art direction, though. It’s an impressive achievement, even when it fails to fully excite.

*A fate I think it kind of deserves after it took Gremlins 2: The New Batch (1990) out at the knees. It should also bear mentioning that Beatty’s clutching onto the rights to the character have prevented much of anything to be done with the character in the last thirty years.

The Irishman (2019)

Director: Martin Scorsese

Cast: Robert De Niro, Al Pacino, Joe Pesci, Ray Romano

Have I Seen it Before: No, but it took several days to get through the film. So, yes I went against Scorsese’s wishes and watched it essentially as a miniseries, and I watched it almost exclusively on my phone. I’m not sure Scorsese gets to dictate the terms in which his films are watched anymore.

Which brings us to his recent comments about current popular filmmaking, specifically those films in the Marvel Cinematic Universe. He dismisses them as not really cinema, and even went so far as to say that they shouldn’t be shown in cinemas.

Is it possible to disagree with him, and not blame him for having the opinion in the first place.

If I were Scorsese, and I had made a career out of a litany of prestige films, the shifting of the movie business to favor what would have been B-movie material during his formative and prime years would feel a little disconcerting. It means that his material of choice is now receiving the resources of B productions.

Thankfully, he is still getting the resources—if not the exhibition he once had—to tell the kind of stories he wants to tell.

Did I Like It:  Oh, I guess you came to this review wondering about that part. Sure. What’s not to love? Pacino and De Niro taking a swing at not slumming it for the first time in what feels like forever? Scorsese working in the genre that made his bones, so to speak? The long-prophesied return of Joe Pesci? Hell, make the movie six hours next time. I’ll show up. One might quibble with the under-utilized Anna Paquin—and even I’m a little befuddled by her near-prop status—but it is a minor quibble with an otherwise ornate tapestry of mob goodness. It feels elegiac, but I think that is a remark on De Niro’s character, and its stretching to apply it to Scorsese himself. I think he’s got plenty of great films still left within him.

Now if only he could get the same kind of presence in cinemas as some of the Marvel movies, maybe we could all get along again and enjoy watching De Niro shoot people in the face.

The Godfather Part II (1974)

Director: Francis Ford Coppola

Cast: Al Pacino, Robert de Niro, Diane Keaton, John Cazale

Have I Seen it Before: At 202 minutes, it is quite a commitment, and yet I make that commitment as often as I possibly can.

Did I Like It: What kind of sociopath would I be if I said no? 

Of course, The Godfather Part II is a great film. There is no reasonable way to deny this, and I wouldn’t try to do so, even if I wanted to. What’s more, anything that could be written about this film has already been done so. It is a dense, rich meal of intrigue, tragedy, and machismo. Coppola’s output may have fluctuated fairly wildly with his fortunes in Hollywood, but when his story is done he will have still made several truly great films, and a couple of bottles of affordable, yet drinkable wine.

And so, on my twentieth or so screening of this film, I am mostly struck by little moments or feelings as the film unfurls. 

Pacino’s unrelenting, patient ruthlessness. He is equal parts cautionary tale and towering example of not taking shit from anyone. It’s the final eerily quiet performance from the man before he started shouting in Dog Day Afternoon and has yet to stop. Actually, I suppose he starts #yellingpacino in this movie in a few scenes, primarily when confronted with the attack on his Tahoe compound and later when he is confronted with the fact that, despite his machiavellian perfection in ealing with the underworld, Kay Corleone (Keaton) sees right through him and will not abide his opportunistic evil.

James Caan’s cameo in the final scene, along with the pointedly unknowable absence of Marlon Brando. Paramount, Coppola, and Brando could not come to any sort of an accord to get him to make the small appearance, but if you ask me, Michael’s story is more complete if he is completely removed from his father for the runtime.

And speaking of tragedies with fathers, the small moment of this film that sticks with me forever is seldom written about, but for my money is the linchpin of not just the film, but the entire Corleone saga. The family boards a train leaving Sicily and Vito (De Niro) tells his youngest son to, “Say goodbye, Michael.” Can’t distill the series down more perfectly than that.