THE GODFATHER PART II

The sheer number of films with a ‘2’, ‘3’ or even a ‘4’ next to their title in combination with the quantity of remakes congesting our multiplexes aides the popular view of the film industry as a kind of Hollywood machine, a money-spinning exercise concerned only with churning out a hit and little interest in quality control. Sequels which withstand the test of time are generally those that are made for the right reasons – because there is still room for the characters to grow or because there is still an interesting story to be told. It is interesting to note that The Godfather Part III, the disappointing, estranged cousin of the Godfather family is the one film in the trilogy not based on the original Mario Puzo source. The list of great sequels is longer than most believe to be true: Dawn of the Dead, Evil Dead II, Before Sunset, The Bourne Supremacy, Aliens, Terminator 2, Mad Max 2 and Toy Story 2 are a few of the big ones that come to mind. I would argue that these are not only great films in their own right but films that manage to improve and expand upon an original that was not lacking in quality. Of course, the The Godfather Part II belongs to this category.

The Godfather Part II was the film that made sequels respectable – a true piece of art that remains quite as powerful now as it was when it was made. The reason for this is simple: Coppola is a master storyteller. Too often a sequel is ruined because it seems obsessed with the mantra: “bigger is better” – more action, more explosions, and more special effects. Part II succeeds because it places its focus on its characters and lets the story unravel around them. In some respects however, Part II is a bloated film with many affecting and individual characters spanning two storylines, abundant with plot twists, drama and yes -- plenty of action, all packed into its eye-watering 200 minute runtime. It’s a testament to Coppola’s ability that he is able to balance all these individual elements and create what is often considered to be one of the greatest films of all time.

Part II follows Michael Corleone’s (Al Pacino) efforts to strengthen the family business through expanding his gambling ventures into revolutionary Cuba. After an attempt on his life, he must plot and scheme to ensure that those responsible are punished without derailing his business endeavours. Interweaved with this story we see the life of Vito Corleone, (played by Robert DeNiro) from his tragic upbringing in Sicily at the turn of the 20th Century, to his rise to power in New York. Coppola’s decision to include both stories is not just a means to test his audience’s endurance abilities – it allows for his viewers to analyse the differences between Michael and Vito - between father and son. Those who have no interest in exercising their critical faculties can simply sit back and enjoy a smartly structured and expertly paced story of ambition and loss in capitalist America.

For a movie that places such an emphasis on family; in particular upon the relationship between father and son, we see surprisingly little of Michael together with his children. Vito was an intelligent man who had genuine love for his children, and knew from his miserable upbringing the effect that the Mafioso lifestyle could have for his family. By placing these two stories together we can better understand decisions Don Vito made in Part I in attempting to avoid bloodshed and compare the frenzied decisions made by Michael in Part II. It’s questionable what kind of a man Michael would have been if he had genuine loving relationship with his children, or indeed the rest of his family, who leave him, one by one, over the course of this film. Furthermore one might question whether Michael had genuine love for any of these people – throughout the film there is evidence that he finds value in people and things because they are his brother, his family, his property. Take the scene where Kay confronts Michael about a possible divorce his anger stems from the fact that she is trying to take away his children, who get most of their love and nourishment from their mother and who receive little interest from himself. There’s further evidence in his treatment of family consigliere Tom Hagen (a wonderful, understated performance by Duvall) who, not being a blood brother, Michael always seems to give the short stick.

Eventually Michael’s choices and lifestyle leaves him safe, but alone, as he slowly alienates everybody who cared for him. This loss is reflected in Coppola’s haunting final shot, where we see Michael alone, contemplating his actions. Pacino’s performance works because he shows us two sides of Michael – quiet and pensive at one moment, then a raging, scheming monster the next. This is the kind of controlled intensity which a Pacino performance sometimes lacks. Yes, the times where Michael loses his cool are spectacular in their bombast – particularly when his wife Kay confronts him about his children; but these are not the only images I am confronted with when I think about what makes the performance great. For instance, Michael’s simmering unrevealed rage at Senator Geary’s attack on him, his family and his people. Michael’s quiet disbelief and anger as his brother Fredo unwittingly reveals his treachery. Michael alone at the dinner table as his brothers rush away to greet their father in a flashback. These snapshots of an isolated man can serve to humanize a character, who gives us no real cause for sympathy.

Then there’s Nino Rota’s masterful score, which is of such importance to the film that it is impossible to imagine the two apart. Robert DeNiro’s superb Oscar-winning performance – indeed fantastic performances across the board. Spectacular cinematography of Sicily and New York. I could go on, but there’s no need – everything that could be said about this film has already been said. The joy is in experiencing it for one’s self.