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.

THE BOURNE ULTIMATUM

A typical criticism of the Bourne series is that it is all style over substance; flashy and fast-paced but lacking in heart. Were any tears shed at the departure of Bourne’s love interest Marie (Franke Potente)? Do any viewers have even a vague interest the relationship that is hinted at between Bourne and Nicky Parsons (Julia Stiles)? I would go as far as to question whether the primary Bourne audience has much concern for the character of Jason Bourne and the truth behind his identity. This is a series of films so slick and disinterested that they often seem to hold you at arm’s length whilst you take in the absurdity of what’s occurring on screen. Luckily, to make up for this Bourne assaults your senses in such bombastic fashion as to make such concerns irrelevant. Every rollercoaster is built to make money, but if it’s built well, it’s also a damn fun thrill ride, even if it fails to live on in our memory for too long.

Ultimatum actually serves as something of a prequel/sequel to Supremacy as the concluding scene of the second instalment is repeated and expanded upon somewhere in the middle of this film. But, we open where the action in Supremacy ended, with our favourite amnesiacally-challenged superspy mid-chase (of course) as he attempts to avoid the Moscow police. Still plagued by flashbacks of an abstruse, curious past, Bourne now seeks answers from those who made him the man he is. At the same time the CIA are once again after Bourne believing him to be the man responsible for leaking important information regarding off-the-books taskforce Blackbriar to the British press. Plot summary be damned, the story primarily serves as an excuse for director Greengrass to execute a game of cat and mouse between Bourne and those who seek him across beautifully photographed locations in Europe and New York.

There are two major points of contention with this film: the camerawork and Matt Damon’s performance. Supremacy and Ultimatum are labelled by some viewers as nauseating, headache-inducing due to Greengrass’ insistence on ‘shakey-cam’ where the camera unrepentently nods and wobbles up and down instead of staying fixed and focus. It’s not as effective here as it was when Greengrass utilised it during Bloody Sunday, United 93 or even the later Green Zone as those films often play with a kind of documentary realism absent from the clearly absurd Bourne.

Indeed if one looks too closely at Ultimatum it can affect adversely one’s enjoyment of the film. At one stage, distracted by the frantic editing at witness in the film I began counting the length of every shot. Soon I became distracted by the camerawork and noticing its erratic path began to get that headache-feeling that everybody refers to when mentioning these films. Eventually though I gave up fighting the film and enjoyed it for what it is – a knock-about action jaunt that’s fun so long as you roll with the editing techniques and the unpredictable nature of the camera. It is best just to let these things wash over you so as to not disturb your enjoyment of the film. Indeed, at times the camera can add a degree of intensity that would not be present in a steady-cam shot and can make the action-scenes even more forceful. It is an effective tool for ramping up the tension.

It has also been said that Matt Damon’s performance is too one dimensional – that although he has the body of an action man doll, he also displays about as much emotion as those plastic features can. Although I don’t agree with those on the other end of the spectrum who declare this a supreme, masterful performance, there’s much about Damon’s adept measured performance to recommend. He brings an intensity to the character which is necessary to drive the plot forward and carries off the various chase and fight scenes with aplomb. It’s a good action performance in a role which is perhaps is non-too-demanding (at least in an emotional sense) and thus never fails to reach the kind of levels of, say, Bruce Willis in Die Hard.


The Bourne Ultimatum is a success because it plays to its strengths and delivers thrills and suspense, some might say despite the deviant camerawork. There’s a technical brilliance underlying the tightly choreographed chase scenes (and one could argue this film is one long chase) that leaves you sometimes in awe. There is no doubting the kind of influence that Greengrass’ directorial style and this series of films in particular have had on the way action films are presented to their audience. Quick edits and wild camera movements are now the blight of a good number of camera movements. Whatever you think of this legacy, it’s a testament to Greengrass’ ability that he was first to recognise the potential of this style and remains perhaps still the only one to fulfil it.