Supplemental Review: The Godfather, Part III (1990).

An aging Michael Corleone makes an ambitious final effort to redeem his family name.

Release Date: Dec. 20, 1990. Running Time: 162 minutes (theatrical), 170 minutes (director's cut), 158 minutes (re-release). Screenplay by: Mario Puzo, Francis Ford Coppola. Producer: Francis Ford Coppola. Director: Francis Ford Coppola.

Note: This review is based on the 1991 "Final Director's Cut."


THE PLOT:

The year is 1979 and, after decades of investment in legitimate businesses, Michael believes he has finally freed himself and his family from ties to organized crime. "We've sold the casinos, all businesses having to do with gambling. We have no interests or investments in anything illegitimate."

He plans to cement his turn from mafia don to respected businessman by purchasing control of Immobiliare, a company with deep ties to the Catholic Church. The deal is contingent on personal approval by the Pope himself, but Archbishop Gilday (Donal Donnelly), head of the Vatican Bank, assures him that this is little more than a formality.

Then the Pope falls ill, leaving ratification of the agreement in limbo. If the Pope dies, one of the corrupt executives smirks, "all bets are off" - with Michael potentially left with nothing.

Even as he navigates this mess, problems are brewing in New York. Vincent Mancini (Andy Garcia), the illegitimate son of Michael's late brother Sonny, has come into conflict with gangster Joey Zasa (Joe Mantegna). Zasa has taken control of the territory once protected by Michael's father, and he has turned it into a crime-infested sewer. Michael extends his protection to Vincent, taking the hotheaded young man under his wing in hopes of teaching him patience. Outside of that, however, he refuses to get involved.

That isn't good enough for Joey Zasa. With backing from an unidentified enemy, he makes a move - one that threatens to pull Michael right back into the world he left behind!

Michael attempts to purchase a company with ties to the Vatican.

AL PACINO AS DON MICHAEL CORLEONE:

My opinion of Al Pacino's performance in The Godfather, Part III is similar to my opinion of the movie itself. On its own terms, it's a good performance, suffering mainly by comparison to the two 1970s films.

Pacino is particularly good at capturing Michael's physical weariness. He walks with a stoop and seeming to be contracting into himself, diminishing before our eyes. He's uncomfortable even when he sits, as if he doesn't quite fit into the chair, and he regularly slumps his head or even entire body to one side. His visible exhaustion makes his moments of strong emotion more effective, notably a scene in which he falls into tears when confessing his sins to an honest Cardinal.

"I would burn in hell to keep you safe," he tells his daughter, Mary (Sofia Coppola) - and indeed, he believes himself to be beyond any kind of redemption, his only solace the hope that he's protected his children from the world he fell into. He protests to Kay that he never had a choice, that he had to act as he did to protect the people he loved, only to lose them anyway.

However - again, like the movie itself - there's no question that he isn't at the same level here as in the first two movies. In The Godfather and particularly The Godfather, Part II, Pacino didn't so much play Michael as inhabit him. Even now, when I rewatch the earlier movies, I don't see Pacino playing Michael; I see the character. By contrast, in this third entry, I mostly see Al Pacino.

Joey Zasa (Joe Mantegna) prepares to move against Michael.

OTHER CHARACTERS:

Kay Adams Corleone: The opening scenes indicate that she's had minimal contact with Michael since their marriage ended, but they mutually agreed for her to take charge of their children's education... which is absolutely not inconsistent with him wordlessly slamming the door in her face while she was saying goodbye to the children at the end of the The Godfather, Part II. She still has unresolved feelings for him, rushing to his side when he has a medical emergency, but she remains wary of the danger surrounding him. Diane Keaton is good as ever, but she unfortunately gets stuck with some of the clunkiest dialogue, notably when she complains that Michael is more dangerous now than when he was "just a common Mafia hood."

Connie Corleone: One thing that can be said for The Godfather, Part III is that it gives a lot more to its female cast than the first two films. Nowhere is this more evident than with Talia Shire's Connie, a decidedly supporting character in the earlier entries who graduates to a central role here. She has retained contact with Kay, and she also brings Vincent to Michael. She is a direct advisor to Michael (almost certainly a case of Talia Shire inheriting some of what would have been Robert Duvall's role), authorizing Vincent to respond to actions against the Corleones while Michael is in the hospital and directly participating in the opera house climax. I'm not sure most of this is really a natural extension of Connie's established character, but at the very least Talia Shire plays her scenes well, convincingly making Michael's sister into a formidable presence.

Vincent Mancini: Andy Garcia's Vincent is a hothead, like his father, and Garcia even borrows a few of James Caan's mannerisms. I don't think Vincent's arc really works - not because of Garcia, who is perfectly fine, but because the script never makes him the focus. In the original movie, Marlon Brando's Vito was all but removed for the middle hour, allowing Al Pacino's Michael to emerge as the main character. The Godfather, Part III is centered entirely around Michael, with everyone else being a supporting character. This leaves little time for Vincent's transformation from short-tempered loose cannon to calculating leader, and as a result I'm unconvinced when he's given (quite literally just given) the title of "Don Corleone" in the final half hour.

Don Altobello: Eli Wallach as an elderly, retired-but-not-retired Sicilian don sounds like casting out of a Mel Brooks movie. I can't help but wonder if Francis Ford Coppola and Mario Puzo couldn't have tweaked the character to make him a Jewish advisor who has gained power through sheer shrewdness; yes, that would be repeating Hyman Roth, but it would also allow the character to fit the casting. That dissonance aside, Wallach's performance is good, the actor turning the character's outward meekness into a thin mask. The more he protests his own powerlessness, his need to "please the world around me," the clearer it becomes that he is one of the most dangerous characters in the story.

Joey Zasa: A flashy mobster who enjoys public attention, winking at his mob status while dismissing it as "fantasy," he's basically a fictionalized John Gotti - and he is easily the movie's most entertaining character. Zasa swaggers into frame, all but openly disrespectful of the Corleones from his first appearance. Michael dismisses him as "small time" - even after Zasa makes his move, Michael knows that he could not have done this alone. In my opinion, Zasa should have been the film's most visible antagonist. Joe Mantegna is excellent, and his character's street-level crudeness is an effective contrast to the more formal demeanor of Michael, let alone the various Vatican officials and Immobiliare execs. This creates friction and energy when he's onscreen, qualities that the movie could have used more of.

B. J. Harrison: Robert Duvall declined to return after receiving what he felt was an insulting offer from Paramount. The new family attorney is George Hamilton's Harrison. The absence of Tom diminishes the movie, as without him there really isn't an equivalent voice to argue against Michael's decisions. Beyond that, there's the inevitable temptation to make fun of George Hamilton for... well, being George Hamilton. But honestly? I think he's pretty good here. Harrison isn't the focus of many scenes (I suspect Tom's role would have been larger), but he's often in the background, watching closely, ready to jump in to forestall awkward questions from a reporter or to express worries about the Immobiliare deal.

Mary Corleone: Winona Ryder was cast as Michael's daughter, only to drop out from nervous exhaustion early in production. This put Francis Ford Coppola in a bind - and he made probably the worst decision possible by replacing her with his daughter, Sofia. Even decades on, I feel bad about pointing out the stilted movements and wooden line deliveries of someone who, after, all, was not a professional actress. Still, this is a released feature film - a tentpole film of its year - and Sofia Coppola's performance harms every scene in which she's the focus. Her father seems at least to have recognized this while editing (even in the longest of the three versions, her total screen time is limited) - but in a story that strives to evoke King Lear, it's a bit of a problem that the dutiful daughter ends up being the weakest single aspect of the entire production.

Michael enjoys a peaceful moment with Kay (Diane Keaton)
and their daughter, Mary (Sofia Coppola).

THOUGHTS:

"The mind suffers and the body cries out... Your sins are terrible, and it is just that you suffer. Your life could be redeemed, but I know that you don't believe that. You will not change."
-Cardinal Lamberto, soon to become Pope John Paul I, hears the confession of Michael Corleone.

The Godfather, Part III has plenty of merit as a film. It's rarely less than entertaining; it's lovely to look at, making fine use of excellent studio sets and real-world locations; it is, with one notable exception, very well acted; and it features a handful of terrific set pieces. Taken on its own terms, this is a good movie.

Unfortunately, it's impossible to simply take it on its own merits. Any "Part III" will, by its very nature, be measured against its predecessors. In this case, both of the preceding entries were genuine American masterpieces. When that's the standard, failure to measure up is basically built in.

Granting that, then, it's almost remarkable how well the first half of this movie works. The script, once again by Mario Puzo and Francis Ford Coppola, draws parallels between organized crime and business. Michael wants to purchase Immobiliare to wash clean his family name. Instead, he finds himself not only the target of criminal rivals, but the victim of a swindle by corrupt forces in both the business world and the Vatican. "They're the true mafia," he spits angrily.

The film is absorbing, sometimes witty, and frequently energetic - at least, while the primary setting remains New York. When the action shifts to Sicily, however, that energy drains away. It remains enjoyable, but it becomes too straight-faced. The characters fall into slow, self-conscious speaking styles. Michael's confession is a wonderfully effective scene... but it would be even moreso if it wasn't surrounded by so many other would-be Shakespearian soliloquies.

Cardinal Lamberto (Raf Vallone) reluctantly accepts his new role as Pope John Paul I.

THEMES TOO BIG FOR THE STORY:

This film is not about its plot. Coppola is far more interested in Michael's regrets and his wish for redemption as he faces the price of the life he's lived. He wants his legacy to go through his biological children, for the Corleone name to be associated with business, charity, and art. However, events make it inevitable that his true legacy will run through Vincent, who is destined to carry on the Corleone crime family. It's intended as a Shakespearian tragedy, which is a worthy vision for the series' final bow.

Too bad, then, that these ideas are tied to this plot. I don't hate the Immobiliare plot. There's cleverness in the way Puzo and Coppola weave in the real-world Vatican Bank scandal and the deaths of two Popes, and it's amusing to see Michael be outmanipulated by so-called "legitimate businessmen." However, the mix of shady business dealings, organized crime, and Vatican conspiracy theories feels like the stuff of airport potboilers. It's like a Dan Brown thriller that got released a decade too soon: The DaVinci Don.

Also, because Coppola's focus really isn't on the pulpy plot mechanics, parts of the story feel underdeveloped, even arbitrary. Michael sends Vincent to his enemies to pretend to betray him. Echoes of Luca Brasi in the original, only Vincent actually manages to persuade them and is welcomed into their ranks. This should lead to scenes of him learning information while avoiding discovery - scenes that would also give a needed boost to Vincent's role and show him having to hold his emotions in check.

This does not occur. Instead, once Vincent enters the enemy fold, his subterfuge is... basically ignored until just before the climax, when he pops up with information - at which point it's been so long unmentioned that, on first viewing, I was actually momentarily thrown until I remembered the existence of this neglected plot point.

Vincent (Andy Garcia) becomes the true inheritor of Michael's legacy.

VERSIONS:

After The Godfather, Part III's theatrical run, Francis Ford Coppola added nine minutes of deleted scenes for the 1991 home video release, labeling it his "Final Director's Cut." For a long time, this was the only version commercially available. It's the basis for this review for two versions: It's my preferred cut; and it's the one that I happen to already own.

In 2020, Coppola revisited it with The Godfather Coda: The Death of Michael Corleone. There are various light trims throughout, and the ending scene is dropped. The most notable change, however, is that it re-structures the opening to start with Michael's offer for Immobiliare, a scene that the previous versions place 40 minutes in.

I can see the argument for this, as it establishes up-front both the story and Michael's hopes to use the business to wash clean his old sins. However, I think the 1990/1991 opening is a better tone-setter, with Michael making an appeal to his children for them and Kay to be more a part of his life. The true focus of the movie is on Michael's regrets and his desire to steer his legacy away from crime; the newer cut instead directs viewers to the plot, a plot that is often neglected by the movie that follows.

It should be noted that mine is a minority opinion: The Godafther Coda is widely regarded as more focused and better paced. It ultimately makes little difference, though, whether you're watching the 1990 theatrical cut, the 1991 director's cut, or the 2020 re-edit. All three are ultimately the same movie, with the same virtues and failings, in every variant.


OVERALL:

The Godfather, Part III is flawed, but it's far from the disaster some Godfather fans have labeled it. I think critics at the time had it about right: It's intermittently compelling with some terrific set pieces and worthy themes. It's rarely less than enjoyable, and it's extremely well-made. It simply has the misfortune to be an above-average crime drama trapped in the shadow of two masterpieces.

It's worth watching - but it's also a movie to watch with suitably tempered expectations.


Rating: 7/10.

Preceded by: The Godfather, Part II

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1974: The Godfather, Part II.

Michael Corleone (Al Pacino) finds it hard to live in
the shadow of his late father, Vito (Robert DeNiro).

Release Date: Dec. 12, 1974. Running Time: 200 minutes. Screenplay by: Francis Ford Coppola, Mario Puzo. Based on the novel, The Godfather, by: Mario Puzo. Producer: Francis Ford Coppola. Director: Francis Ford Coppola.


THE PLOT:

Sicily, 1901. Antonio Andolini is killed after defying Don Ciccio (Giuseppe Sillato) and his 9-year-old son, Vito, is forced to flee the country. Confusion at Ellis Island results in him being renamed "Vito Corleone." He settles in an Italian immigrant community in New York, working an honest job and eventually marrying and starting a family. He is poor but reasonably happy - until local big shot Don Fanucci (Gastone Moschin) costs him his job and then extorts him. Vito sees only one solution that will allow him to protect his family and retain his own dignity, an action that sets in motion his ascent to head of the largest crime family in New York.

Las Vegas, 1958. Vito's son, Michael Corleone (Al Pacino), has secured his position as head of the Corleone Family. He has moved his family to Nevada, where he hopes that his financial stake in several hotels and casinos will enable him to make the Family entirely legitimate, fulfilling both his promise to his wife, Kay (Diane Keaton), and his own original intention to stay away from a life of crime.

The centerpiece of his plan is a massive business deal with Hyman Roth (Lee Strasberg), an old associate of his father's who is attracting investors for development in Havana, Cuba. Keeping this deal on track requires turning a blind eye to the aggression of some of Roth's associates, angering Frank Pentangeli (Michael V. Gazzo), the successor to Peter Clemenza.

An attempt is made on Michael's life mere hours after he rejects Pentangeli's complaints. Michael knows that the architect of the hit was Hyman Roth. But he also knows that someone inside the Family must be working with him. Michael is left with increasingly few people to trust as he is faced not just with disruption of carefully laid plans, but with the very real prospect that he could lose everything he holds dear!

Michael realizes that he's been betrayed by one of the increasingly few people he trusts.

AL PACINO AS DON MICHAEL CORLEONE:

By the end of the first film, Michael had walled off anything in himself that might be considered "weak" in the process of adopting the mantle of "Don Corleone." This had to pose a challenge for Al Pacino for the sequel, because this movie requires him to start from that end point and carry it even further. The first film saw him suppressing what little warmth remained in him; the second film sees the remaining embers entirely extinguished.

One way both the script and Pacino manage to show this shift is by seizing on moments of warmth in the first half. He apologizes to Kay for having to associate with mafia figures at the initial gathering, promising that he's still trying to legitimize the Family (for the record, I think he's lying to himself more than to her). After the attempt on his life, he makes Tom acting don, calling him a "brother" and expressing full faith and confidence in him. In Havana, he commiserates with Fredo about how hard it is to live in their father's enormous shadow.

After the Roth deal implodes, the second half revisits each of these relationships, and we see that the previous hints of warmth are gone. Michael snaps at Tom, going so far as to directly question his loyalty near the end. He refuses to listen to Kay, shutting her out first figuratively and, eventually, literally. He insists on bringing Fredo back to the compound, only to tell him, "You're nothing to me now."

Pacino is masterful throughout. He shows genuine love for his family, albeit heavily suppressed, in the first half. After Michael is betrayed and after the failure in Cuba, he changes entirely. The coldness remains a surface, his soft and even tones still covering strong emotion - only now the emotion he's suppressing is rage. He is angry at everyone around him, most of all himself.

Vito Corleone prepares to make Don Fanucci "an offer he don't refuse."

ROBERT DE NIRO AS DON VITO CORLEONE:

Vito's rise to power is expanded from one of the few major pieces of Mario Puzo's novel not to have been included in the first film. I think these scenes are the true heart of this movie. Michael's story on its own would be too cold to retain viewer engagement. The cutaways to Vito inject warmth and a hint of humor.

Vito doesn't shy away from violence, but he is a caring man at his core. He disapproves of Fanucci, wondering why an Italian would use his influence to bully other Italians. When he gains power, we see him using it with generosity, such as when he pressures a slumlord to not only revoke a widow's eviction but to lower her rent as well.

Over the course of the movie, Vito gathers a close circle of friends and family, young versions of the same inner circle that surrounded him in the first Godfather, such as Clemenza and Tessio. In the 1950s thread, meanwhile, Michael sheds the people closest to him. Vito's final scene has him departing on a train with his family in tow; Michael's final scene sees him sitting entirely alone.

Robert DeNiro's performance respects Marlon Brando's original, but it isn't an imitation. He borrows the vocal rasp and a few mannerisms, but DeNiro otherwise creates his own interpretation of Vito, one that brings the character to life.

Tom Hagen (Robert Duvall) pays a visit to Frank Pentangeli (Michael V. Gazzo).

OTHER CHARACTERS:

Tom Hagen: He is unwavering in his loyalty to Michael, and he's genuinely touched when Michael refers to him as his brother. This twists the knife all the harder when Michael becomes increasingly short with him in the second half. Tom argues against Michael's ending orders as being vindictive and, worse, pointless. He remains loyal, as he has always been, but he's left to feel less like "Family" and more like a simple employee. When he talks with Pentangeli, the other man compares the Corleone Family to the Roman Empire. Tom agrees that "it was once," his phrasing showing recognition of a decline.

Kay Adams Corleone: As the movie opens, she's still a loving wife trying to accept her husband's less savory qualities and to believe him when he promises change. After the assassination attempt, she stops believing. As she and their children sit, waiting as the compound is searched, she directs a glare at Michael. I think that glare marks the moment that she begins emotionally disengaging from him. On this viewing, I find myself questioning whether she's telling the truth when she makes the declaration that repels Michael. She only says it after it's clear that he has no intention of letting her leave him. I'm not saying this was the intent - but I could see it being possible that she chooses a lie that would kill his feelings for her just so that he'll let her go.

Fredo Corleone: The first half stresses a closeness between him and Michael that was mostly unseen in the first movie. In a rare human moment, Michael lends emotional support as Fredo mulls living in their father's shadow, and he entrusts Fredo with bringing a cash payment to Hyman Roth. Later, Fredo lets show his resentment at being passed over in favor of Michael: "You're my kid brother, and you take care of me. Did you ever think about that? ...I can handle things. I'm smart. Not like everyone says, not dumb, smart! And I want respect!" John Cazale briefly out-acts Al Pacino in this moment, shaking with impotent rage, his gestures uncontrolled spasms that show his weakness even as he vents the frustration of wanting to be seen as strong.

Frank Pentangeli: Richard Castellano declined to return as Clemenza, whether because of salary or a desire for control over his dialogue or a reluctance to regain lost weight. Whatever the case, while young Clemenza (a spot-on Bruno Kirby) plays a major role in the story of Vito's rise, in the movie's present Clemenza has had a suspicious heart attack, leaving Frank Pentangeli (Michael V. Gazzo) in charge of his territory. Pentangeli fills the role that would have been Clemenza's, clashing loudly with Michael only to be left to fear that Michael has now turned on him. There's no question this would be more effective with Clemenza, not least because of the younger Clemenza's prominence in the flashbacks, but Michael V. Gazzo plays the role well and his scenes work.

Hyman Roth: Roth never passes up an opportunity to compliment Michael, and he makes a public show of making the younger man his successor - but the more he talks about his own ill health, the more Michael realizes that the old man intends to live forever. "He's been dying of the same heart attack for twenty years." Roth clings to the same refrain about "business" that pervaded the first movie, and it's still a lie. His motives for acting against Michael are entirely personal, as he reveals in a scene in which actor Lee Strasberg allows the genial front to drop away, revealing white hot fury. He outplays Michael, using a Senate hearing as a backup plan to strike against him if assassination fails, and is in general the embodiment of the saying, "Beware of an old man in a profession where men usually die young."

Sonny Corleone: James Caan appears in a single flashback, for which he received the same salary as the entirety of the first film. He just about earns that payday, seemingly effortlessly recreating the character while cranking up his screen presence to cover for the absence of an originally-intended Marlon Brando cameo. The scene shows the final family celebration before the war. The interactions as Sonny holds court strike another contrast against Michael's reign. Sonny argues with multiple people around the table, but everyone's relaxed, the people around the table feeling like a family. It's the one way in which Sonny actually would have been a better leader than Michael, if only he was less impulsive; he draws people to him, while Michael can only keep them in line through fear.

"I want respect!" Fredo (John Cazale) lashes out at his brother.

THOUGHTS:

"All our people are businessmen. Their loyalty's based on that. One thing I learned from Pop was to try to think as people around you think, and on that basis, anything is possible."
-Michael speculates about an attempt on his life as he cedes control of the Family to Tom.

There's an ongoing argument as to which is the better Godfather movie. It's a meaningless question, because while the two movies are stylistically similar, they are starkly different works. The first Godfather tells a perfectly structured story that ends with a satisfying climax. The second Godfather is messier and less intrinsically satisfying, growing more emotionally remote as it approaches its end. As a movie to watch, the first one is a lot more engaging; as a movie to think about, the second one is a larger work that offers more to chew on after its end.

The Godfather, Part II opens with a recreation of the first film's final scene, as petitioners pay homage to the new "Don Corleone." We see a close-up of Michael's face. Then the movie cuts to his father's empty chair. It is over that chair that the title finally comes up, emphasizing the absence of the man who actually deserved the monicker, "Godfather."

Michael's story, particularly after the Intermission, seems deliberately designed to push viewers away from him as he grows colder and more isolated. The first movie ended in a masterstroke as Michael consolidated his power. There's nothing comparable here, with Michael's final orders amounting to petty revenge that no longer serves any purpose. There's no sense of a climax - Just ugly incidents that clear Michael's board of a few remaining opposing pieces after the game has already been won.

In the first movie, Vito bristled at the undertaker thinking they were murderers. Vito insisted on using only the amount of violence that a given situation called for. By the end of the second movie, Michael has all but claimed the moniker of "murderer," telling Tom: "I don't feel I have to wipe everyone out. Just my enemies, that's all."

Vito and his family celebrate Fourth of July.

Francis Ford Coppola was at the height of his powers as a filmmaker, and The Godfather, Part II was the second of two masterpieces he released in 1974 (after The Conversation, a low-key thriller that is every bit as brilliant as this). I already discussed his mastery of frame composition and camera movements in my review of the first Godfather, and that remains just as true of the sequel.

The flashbacks to Vito are slightly but visibly sepia-tinted, which lends the impression of historical photographs come to life. Vito is frequently framed surrounded by either his direct family or his friends, like Clemenza, who will become Family. By contrast, even early in the film, Michael is shown wearing cold colors and is frequently framed alone. After Cuba, he almost exclusively dresses in black. His office is dimly lit, leaving him draped in shadows. He has few outside scenes after the Intermission and, by the end, he's frequently shot either through or against windows, as if to erect a barrier between him and the world and even between him and the viewer.

In the first Godfather, Michael tried to avoid involvement in the Corleone Family, only getting drawn in to save his father from those who would have killed him. He turned to crime to protect his family, just as we see Vito doing in the past. In the second film, Michael becomes ever more powerful... but in so doing, he fulfills the very worry he expresses to his mother: "By being strong for his family, could he lose it? ...Lose his family?" Alone and feeling betrayed by everyone, he surrenders the reasons that he sought power for the sake of power itself.

It's a haunting story, beautifully told... but if not for the Vito segments, I suspect it might be too bleak. It's ironic that Francis Ford Coppola would later reissue the final film in the trilogy as, "The Death of Michael Corleone"; to all intents, Michael the person dies here, leaving behind only the husk that is "Don Corleone."

Sonny Corleone (James Caan) holds court at the last family celebration before World War II.

SEQUEL AND ALTERNATE VERSION:

In 1990, Francis Ford Coppola directed The Godfather, Part III. Though its reputation has nose-dived, it was reasonably well-received at the time. Reviewers didn't pretend that it was a patch on the first two movies, but they acknowledged it as a well-made film in its own right. I haven't seen it since the 1990s, so I will withhold judgment until I rewatch it - and I will be taking a sidestep from Best Picture Winners to round out the trilogy with The Godfather, Part III, as a supplemental post.

When I covered the first Godfather, I noted the television mini-series version of the first two movies that was titled, The Godfather Saga. This version recuts the entire narrative into strict chronological order, restoring many deleted scenes in the process. This means the first "episode" of the mini-series is mostly made up of the DeNiro footage from this movie, which is not the optimal way to watch it. There is a continuous arc in Vito's tale, so it just about works as a narrative piece in its own right. However, the re-editing destroys the contrast between Vito's rise and Michael's moral fall, and it renders the final "episode" into a grim death march as Michael becomes ever more alone, without the Vito scenes to counteract that.

I would label the mini-series as interesting and worth viewing after seeing both movies in their original form - but even more so than with the first movie, I think the original release is by far the best way to watch The Godfather, Part II.


OVERALL:

The Godfather was an American masterpiece. Remarkably, co-writer/director Francis Ford Coppola manages to repeat that with the sequel. It's an emotionally colder work, matching its remote protagonist, and it's less immediately satisfying than its predecessor - but it's also a rich and compelling work, one that lingers in the mind long after viewing.


Rating: 10/10.

Preceded by: The Godfather
Followed by: The Godfather, Part III

Best Picture - 1973: The Sting
Best Picture - 1975: One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest

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1972: The Godfather.

Don Vito Corleone (Marlon Brando) hears petitions on the day of his daughter's wedding.

Release Date: Mar. 14, 1972. Running Time: 175 minutes. Screenplay: Mario Puzo, Francis Ford Coppola. Based on the novel by: Mario Puzo. Producer: Albert S. Ruddy. Director: Francis Ford Coppola.


THE PLOT:

Vito Corleone (Marlon Brando) is the don of the Corleone Family, the most powerful of the organized crime families operating in New York, 1945. Vito has police, judges, and politicians on his payroll, with rising mob figure Sollozzo (Al Lettieri) observing that he carries them "in (his) pocket, like so many nickels and dimes." When Sollozzo asks Vito to provide protection while he sets up a narcotics distribution network, Vito refuses, fearing that his contacts "wouldn't be friendly very long" if his business shifted to include drugs.

Sollozzo is not a man to take "no" for an answer, and Vito is shot not long after. He survives - just barely - but his recovery will be long, leaving his short-fused eldest son, Santino "Sonny" Corleone (James Caan), in charge. Against the advice of family consigliere Tom Hagen (Robert Duvall), Sonny goes to war with Sollozzo and his sponsors, the Tattaglia Family.

Caught in the middle is Michael (Al Pacino), Vito's youngest son. Michael forged a separate path, joining the army and becoming a hero during World War II. He has a non-Italian girlfriend, Kay (Diane Keaton), and he's emphatic that he wants no part of the family business. But as it becomes clear that his father is still a target for the Corleones' enemies, he realizes that he has only one way to save the old man and give the family space to negotiate peace: Kill Sollozzo himself!

Vito negotiates with his rivals.

MARLON BRANDO AS DON VITO CORLEONE:

Rarely do I think that a role had to be played by a particular actor, no matter how well the casting worked out, but I cannot imagine anyone other than Marlon Brando as Vito Corleone. Vito's actual screen time is limited, yet the nature of the story requires that he be its dominant figure. Brando makes this look effortless. When he's on screen, you can't take your eyes off him. When he's not (which is most of the time), his absence is equally tangible.

Much of this comes from sheer physical presence, along with excellent use of makeup and costuming. Vito takes care with his appearance, his thin hair slicked back and his mustache perfectly trimmed. He dresses impeccably, and he's almost always seen in some form of suit and tie, from the formal wear at his daughter's wedding to business suits in more casual settings. The only time he's untidy is when he's recovering from being shot, barely back on his feet. Even in this diminished condition, when he meets with someone outside the family less than an hour later, he is again wearing a suit and tie.

Brando is excellent. The voice he uses is perfectly judged: quiet and slow, reflecting the don's care in choosing each word. Vito initially seems to be an unknowable cipher - until he's alone with trusted members of his family, when he gives tiny rolls of his eyes or little exhales of weariness to show his exhaustion at the parade of petitioners. This reveals his humanity, with flashes of humor and annoyance, which makes it fully consistent when he gets a couple of larger emotional moments later. He has one line, about how a person close to him was "massacred," that is spoken with naked emotion that would be effective on its own, and that is made all the more powerful by its contrast with Vito's normal soft reserve.

It's a great performance on its own. It's also one of the very few times that I think a piece of film casting was not just well-advised, but indispensable to the success of the movie (so of course Coppola had to fight the studio to cast him).

Michael Corleone (Al Pacino), glaring coldly while attending a funeral.

AL PACINO AS MICHAEL CORLEONE:

"That's my family, Kay, it's not me."

Though Vito is the movie's center of gravity, Michael is its true main character, and he has the most significant arc. He shares stories with Kay about his father's business, being open with her about where he comes from. That openness drops away as the story unfolds. When it becomes clear that his father will remain in danger as long as Sollozzo lives, he's the one who devises the plan to kill him - a plan that depends on their enemies seeing him as a non-threatening "civilian."

This was Al Pacino's starmaking role, and he's mesmerizing. His performance is characterized by stillness. The scene in which he lays out the plan for Sonny and Tom is when he takes control, and he does so quietly. He sits in the center of frame, barely moving as he lays out his plan, step by careful step. The camera moves slowly in on him until we're right in front of his eyes, which are cold and focused.

Pacino does a lot of acting with his eyes. In the scene in which Michael carries out the shooting, Michael seems to hesitate. His eyes dart about wildly as Sollozzo speaks (in Italian, untranslated), until the moment finally comes to take action. He shoots Sollozzo before moving onto the second target - and it's then, as he shoots the second man, that his eyes display all of the character's rage.

It's a performance that's both complementary to and in contrast with Brando's. Pacino's Michael has his father's patience and tactical sense. But Vito is a warm figure, particularly around his family. By the time Michael is actively working with The Family, his few flashes of warmth are reserved only for his father. He is cold to everyone else, trusted advisors and siblings as well as rivals. At one point, he warns one of his brothers, "Don't ever take sides with anyone against the Family again." The threat is all the more chilling for his absolute lack of visible emotion.

Sonny (James Caan) is too impulsive to be a good leader.

JAMES CAAN AS SANTINO "SONNY" CORLEONE:

"Never tell anybody outside the Family what you're thinking!"

Vito snaps this to Sonny, trying to impart a lesson, but he's asking the impossible. Throughout the movie, Sonny's every emotion is written on his face and clearly audible in his voice. Sonny isn't stupid, but he is governed by impulse. This, in combination with a lack of patience to think before acting, makes his reactions predictable and thus easily manipulated.

James Caan makes his Sonny the opposite of Pacino's Michael. Pacino is still, speaking with little emotion and acting with his eyes. Caan is almost constantly in motion, pacing the room like a trapped animal. He acts with his hands, gesturing with almost every word he speaks. Because his emotions are so open, his Sonny has the warmth that Pacino's Michael lacks. One senses that, in happier times, he's likely as generous to his friends as he is dangerous to his enemies.

He has a close bond with his adopted brother, Tom Hagen. He's the one who found Tom and brought him into the Corleone family. Even when they clash, Sonny is quick to flare up, but equally quick to apologize. These qualities and Caan's performance make him more likable than his actions would suggest... but he's not cut out to be a leader, and Vito later acknowledges as much.

The Corleones pose for a family photo at Connie's wedding.

OTHER CHARACTERS:

Tom Hagen: Though not a Corleone by blood, he was raised by Vito, and his personality seems to halve the difference between Michael and Sonny. Like Michael, he is calm and patient. He lacks Michael's tactical shrewdness, but he is able to recognize the complicated realities of a given situation. Unlike Michael, he isn't cold. Even as he advises caution in responding to Vito's shooting, he is visibly shaken by what's happened. When another tragedy strikes, he has to stop and pour himself a drink before reporting it, and he seems to be just barely holding himself back from tears. Robert Duvall is more contained than Caan and less intense than Pacino, but he's every bit as good as them. He's more often than not in the background, but he reacts to other people's words - or, in some cases, carefully not reacting.

Clemenza: We first hear his name when Vito, after agreeing to provide "justice" to the undertaker, tells Tom to assign that job to him, with Clemenza (Richard Castellano) chosen specifically because he doesn't want this taken care of by someone who will go overboard. This shows that Vito trusts his judgment as much as his loyalty. Clemenza presents a casual front, giving Michael an impromptu cooking lesson during a crisis and chatting about how "they should have stopped Hitler at Munich." This is probably his authentic personality, but he uses it to his advantage. He puts a victim at ease with banter during a car ride, then has the man pull over so that he can "take a leak" while the hit is carried out. His loyalty to Vito definitely extends to Sonny, but he's more wary of Michael, seeming to see the youngest Corleone son as weak.

Sollozzo: The most visible villain of the piece, though it's made clear from the start that he has powerful backers and that he's not really in charge. Vito grants him a meeting as a sign of respect to "a serious man." When Tom reads his background to Vito, he observes that Sollozzo uses violence "only in matters of business or some sort of reasonable complaint." When he tells Michael that he respects his father, he means it... but he also means it when he says that Vito is "slipping." Al Lettieri feels absolutely authentic in the role, and he presents just the right amount of a threat: Enough to be taken seriously, but not quite enough to ever feel like the Corleones' true adversary.

Kay: Michael's girlfriend, Kay (Diane Keaton) is the perfect embodiment of middle America: well-educated and independent enough to push back when Michael goes to work for his father, but not so independent that she doesn't allow him to take charge. She shows flashes of a strong will, but she also comes across as sheltered and more than a little naive. Her role is very much a supporting one (if memory serves, she gets more in the sequel), but Diane Keaton does some excellent nonverbal acting in two scenes: when Kay passes a newsstand and sees that Vito has been shot; and at the very end, as she realizes exactly who Michael has become.

Connie/Fredo: The remaining Corleone siblings. Connie (Talia Shire) seems a lot like Sonny, reacting to situations with strong emotion instead of stopping and thinking. Not surprisingly, she seems to have a very close relationship with Sonny, far more so than with Michael. Fredo (John Cazale, excellent as always) is the weakest of the Corleone children. He has poor judgment, giving trust to the wrong people on two occasions. He's emotional, weeping openly when Vito is shot. Later, after he's sent to Las Vegas to keep him away from the conflict, he comes to fancy himself a big shot - and he's likely the only person in the room who doesn't realize how pathetically unearned his swagger really is.

Vito reflects upon his life to Michael.

THOUGHTS:

"I worked my whole life, I don't apologize, to take care of my family. And I refused to be a fool, dancing on a string held by all those big shots. I don't apologize, that's my life."
-Vito Corleone (Marlon Brando), talking about his life, expresses both regret and defiance.

The Godfather is all but undisputed as one of the "great films" of American cinema. Its plot really isn't anything special - with slight adjustments, the same story could have been told in the mid-1940s in which the movie's set, and the result likely would have been an entertaining 90-minute programmer. What makes it special is the way all the elements come together to form something larger, from the impeccable period detail to the casting to composer Nino Rota's instantly recognizable main theme. All the individual parts are good, and the whole that they build is even greater.

This is a movie featuring Marlon Brando, Al Pacino, James Caan, and Robert Duvall - and it's a movie in which all of them give performances that rank among their best. The actors are well-cast, feeling convincing as members of the same family. When Al Pacino, James Caan, and Robert Duvall interact, I don't feel like I'm being told that they're brothers - I can see that they are, and that each has his own individual relationship with the others.

Beyond the acting, this is a remarkably cinematic film. Each frame is beautifully lit and shot. You can find long essays about the way The Godfather uses light and shadow to convey characters' shifts in morality. Francis Ford Coppola kicked off his greatest period as a director here, and he's in absolute control of his craft.

The scene in which Michael proposes the plan to kill Sollozzo is a particular example. The scene begins with its focus on Sonny and Tom, drawing attention to them as they argue in loud voices and with strong gestures. Then Michael speaks up - softly, calmly. The camera slowly moves to him, sitting still in a chair in the center of the room. The contrast of his stillness versus the others' motion makes him an instantly compelling presence. Tom moves to the opposite side of the room, so that Michael is between him and Sonny, and he agrees when Michael says that Sollozzo will keep trying to kill their father.

Sonny tries to regain control by mocking his brother, but Michael doesn't take the bait. The camera creeps in as he lays out his plan, ending on his eyes, which are pure ice. All the pieces - staging, acting, lighting, camera - come together in this moment, a significant one: Not only does Michael move from being outside the Family to inside it, he also is transformed from a member of the movie's ensemble to its central character.

Throughout the film, Coppola and his production team continue to use cinematic techniques in this way to complement each beat of the script. No visual flourish is ever "just" a flourish. Even in the justly famous climax, it never just feels like Coppola is showing off. Every shot, every music choice, every cut and line and bit of staging is there to support the story being told.

Michael comes up with a plan, in the scene that transforms him into the movie's main character.

"IT'S NOT PERSONAL, SONNY. IT'S STRICTLY BUSINESS."

The characters insist on a separation between what's "personal" and what's "business," but this divide is never successfully maintained. At Connie's wedding, Don Vito Corleone takes a parade of requests, mere yards from where his guests are celebrating. The FBI takes photos of the license plates of the guests, while Don Barzini (Richard Conte) rips up the film of a wedding photographer who made the mistake of taking his picture.

The blurring of "personal" and "business" is shown throughout. Corleone family issues that would be counted as "personal" are used by rivals to manipulate Sonny. When Michael lays out his plan, Sonny scoffs that he's "taking this very, very personal." Michael calmly denies it - but when he shoots Sollozzo and a second target, the anger in his eyes shows that Sonny wasn't actually wrong. Assassins later attempt to kill Michael and end up killing someone else - inflicting a "personal" loss while conducting "business." Michael later does the same on a larger scale, using a personal function to "settle all Family business."

The characters may insist that there is separation, but the opposite is what is shown (to sometimes tragic effect)... and, more than once, the people insisting that this divide exists are doing so with absolute, self-serving hypocrisy.

Michael visits middle brother Fredo (John Cazale) in Las Vegas.

SEQUELS AND AN ALTERNATE VERSION:

Gangster pictures were nothing new, having been a mainstay of 1930s and '40s cinema. The Godfather revitalized the genre by combining period and cultural authenticity with an almost operatic quality. It draws the viewer into its world, one that feels both real and larger-than-life at the same time - and moviegoers responded, resulting in it becoming the highest grossing film of 1972.

Naturally, a sequel followed two years later... and would itself go on to win Best Picture, so I'll be discussing it fairly soon. A third entry, The Godfather, Part III, came out more than 15 years later; though it proved to be a financial success, it is almost universally regarded as far weaker than the two 1970s movies.

An alternate version was released to television as a 1977 mini-series, The Godfather Saga. Authorized by Francis Ford Coppola in large part to raise more money for Apocalypse Now, this version re-edits the first two Godfather movies, rearranging them into strictly chronological order, while also integrating many deleted scenes.

It's worth a watch after viewing the two movies individually, but I consider the theatrical films superior. Amerigo Bonasera's, "I believe in America," and Connie's wedding create the perfect introduction to this world; and while the deleted scenes are interesting to see, most of them were cut for good reason.

Vito and Tom Hagen (Robert Duvall) comfort each other after a family tragedy.

OVERALL:

The Godfather runs just shy of three hours, but it never feels long. The individual filmmaking elements combine with meticulous period detail to create a world that we're drawn into. The film's world is absolutely consistent. At no point does anything jar us out of the internal reality. From the opening minutes, we are immersed in this particular time, place, and culture.

The result has been justifiably labeled a cinematic masterpiece. It's a movie that anyone who genuinely loves film should see, and probably more than once.


Rating: 10/10.

Followed by: The Godfather, Part II

Best Picture - 1971: The French Connection
Best Picture - 1973: The Sting

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1970: Patton.

Gen. George S. Patton, Jr. (George C. Scott) salutes the audience in the iconic opening scene.

Release Date: Feb. 5, 1970. Running Time: 172 minutes. Screenplay: Francis Ford Coppola, Edmund H. North. Based on the books: Patton, Ordeal and Triumph, by Ladislas Farago; and A Soldier's Story, by Omar N. Bradley. Producer: Frank McCarthy. Director: Franklin J. Schaffner.


THE PLOT:

The disastrous Battle of Kasserine Pass leads to major American losses in northern Africa. Gen. George S. Patton Jr. (George C. Scott) is given command of the surviving II Corps, and he goes to work instilling a sense of discipline and pride in the men. He quickly clashes with the British forces over supplies, plans, and air cover, and he enters into a rivalry with Field Marshal Bernard Montgomery (Michael Bates), the British hero Patton regards as a prima donna.

After the Allies achieve victory in Africa, Patton and Montgomery submit separate plans for an invasion of Sicily. To Patton's annoyance, Montgomery's cautious unified assault is favored over his own more aggressive approach. When Montgomery gets bogged down in the southeast, Patton makes a push to capture the key cities of Palermo and Messina... something that doesn't sit well with his second-in-command, Omar Bradley (Karl Malden), who views this as sacrificing lives for the sake of one man's glory.

The fall of Sicily makes Patton into a hero... but not for long. During the campaign, he slapped a soldier with combat fatigue and shouted that the man should be shot as a coward. The incident goes public, causing a loss of support. Patton is passed over for command of the invasion of Europe, with Bradley given that plum assignment. As he's relegated to staging a distraction, he is told to consider himself on probation.

After the landing at Normandy, he is given another chance. He's made commander of the Third Army, and he begins a rapid advance across France. He becomes frustrated when his desire to advance to Berlin is thwarted (for the second time) in favor of an ill-fated rival plan by Montgomery. But when the Germans launch their counteroffensive, the Battle of the Bulge, Patton's aggressiveness suddenly becomes the very thing the Allies need!

Patton finds success on the battlefield, but he sabotages himself in the press.

GEORGE C. SCOTT AS GENERAL GEORGE S. PATTON:

"No (soldier) ever won a war by dying for his country. He won it by making the other poor, dumb (soldier) die for HIS country!"

42-year-old George C. Scott plays the 60-year-old general... and it works. It helps that Scott was one of those people who looked old when he was still fairly young. The only, very slight giveaway is the occasional shot in which lighting makes it obvious that his hair has been artificially whitened. These are relatively rare single shots, however; given how magnetic Scott's performance is, it's doubtful many viewers will notice.

Though it's evident that the filmmakers genuinely like their bellicose subject, they avoid making this a hagiography. Patton is presented sympathetically, and the movie clearly wants us to believe that he's in the right when he disagrees with official strategy - but the script and actor don't shy away from showing his vanity and ego. He loves being the center of attention. There's a moment when, while his army advances across France, the movie cuts to Omar Bradley approving a front-page article, proclaiming, "Give George a headline, and he's good for another thirty miles!"

George C. Scott is superb, delivering not a single false note. There is a potential danger in reducing Patton to an eternally shouty caricature. Scott makes sure to vary his deliveries, and the script makes sure to give him moments of quiet and contemplation. Patton is also played as part showman, and Scott keeps a twinkle in his eye as he barks orders, savoring that his men are never quite certain when he's serious and when he's acting. "It isn't important for them to know," he observes. "It's only important for me to know."

Scott became the first actor to refuse to accept his Oscar, condemning the entire concept of the Academy Awards as "degrading." I would argue for the Oscars' worth, not because Scott was wrong (he wasn't) and not because they always get it right (they often don't), but because the awards provide a glimpse at what is valued and even celebrated in a given year. Co-star Karl Malden expressed sympathy for Scott's reasons, but he felt that he could have been less blunt in his refusal - the two actors' statements making a perfect parallel to the roles they played in the movie.

Gen. Omar Bradley (Karl Malden) is appalled when Patton jeopardizes lives for the sake of ego.

KARL MALDEN AS GENERAL OMAR BRADLEY:

Malden's Bradley is this film's moral center (and it's probably no coincidence that the real Bradley consulted on the film). He recommends Patton for the North Africa posting, seeing him as well-suited to getting the demoralized troops back into fighting shape. He recognizes Patton's quirks and flaws, but he's still supportive of him... during the North Africa campaign.

This changes in the Sicily campaign, when Patton creatively interprets his orders - or just ignores them as "garbled" - in his rush to reach Messina ahead of Field Marshal Montgomery. Bradley doesn't directly clash with his superior, but he lets his disapproval show in his tone and in the look in his eyes. When he rebuffs Patton's offer to accompany him into Messina with a simple, "I'm not very good at that, George," his judgment is as fierce as it is quiet. When he later states that he would have relieved Patton had he been in charge in Sicily, we remember this moment and know that he means it.

That quality of quiet strength makes him a perfect foil to the bellicose title character. Bradley is low-key, plain and unshowy. Karl Malden's unassuming yet solid presence is both opposite and equal to George C. Scott's showy bravado, and I think Malden's performance is every bit as crucial to the movie's success as Scott's own.

Rommel (Karl Michael Vogler, center) is frustrated when his superiors
refuse to commit all forces to defending Normandy.

OTHER CHARACTERS:

Col. Charles Codman: Paul Stevens plays Patton's aide, who stays at his side even when the general tells him that he's "hitched (his) wagon to a falling star." Codman knows how to play to the general's ego. When he takes over as aide, Patton's ego has just been stung by learning that he did not actually face Rommel in North Africa. Codman smoothly points out that he defeated Rommel's plan, which is the same as defeating the man himself. He's unwaveringly loyal, but he isn't blind to the man's faults. There's a hint of weariness and frustration in his voice when he vainly attempts to remind him to mention the Russians in a speech, with Patton's failure to do so compounding his problems with his superiors..

Field Marshal Montgomery: While the film acknowledges Montgomery's effectiveness in pushing the Germans back in North Africa, it does so only in words. What it shown is a smug man who plays politics, trying to steer the course of the war in a way that will build his own reputation. The irony that much of this describes Patton himself isn't lost on the title character, who acknowledges to Bradley: "I'm a prima donna, I admit it. What I can't stand about Monty is, he won't admit it!" I won't call the film's portrayal character assassination; the real-life Montgomery was hardly a well-liked figure even before he proposed making South African apartheid into a model for the entire continent. Still, there's no question that the movie plays up his arrogance while downplaying his military successes.

Field Marshal Erwin Rommel: He refuses to celebrate the victory against the Americans at Kasserene Pass. He recognizes that the Americans were poorly led and knows that this is a correctable weakness. He is quick to recognize Patton's skill, but he doesn't make the mistake of mythologizing the man. During the attack on Normandy, he urges all forces be brought to bear to repel the attack. His frustration is tangible when his superior refuses, insisting that the assault is a distraction, and that the real invasion will be led by Patton. Karl Michael Vogler does a splendid job of showing Rommel's intelligence and instincts, making the most of very limited screen time.

The opening scene makes an instant and indelible impression.

OPENING SEQUENCE - A MAN AND A FLAG:

"Americans love a winner and will not tolerate a loser."

The opening is striking. There is no studio logo, no lead-in. The screen simply fades in on a giant American flag. George C. Scott's Patton strides up onto the screen and delivers a sharp salute, quick cuts focusing on the salute and his eyes, on the Ivory-handled revolver, on his riding crop, on his medals.

For the next six minutes, Patton delivers a (PG-safe) profanity-laced speech to rouse the morale of the men, who are unseen. He extolls the virtue of winning and the shame of losing. He denounces the idea of individuality, then makes a gory call to not just defeat the enemy, but to "cut out their living guts and use them to grease the treads of our tanks!"

Scott is masterful, his Patton as colorful and witty as he is aggressive. At some points, he speaks in quieter tones, as if reflecting on his words while speaking them. Then his ramrod-straight posture somehow gets even straighter as he all but bellows the next line in his speech. We gain an impression of the general's combative nature and also of his showmanship... and, in Scott's hands, we also sense the intellect lurking underneath the pugnacity. 

It is six minutes with only one actor on screen, against that flag backdrop, talking (and sometimes shouting), and it is instantly and absolutely compelling. I'd label it as one of the great openings in film history.

Patton loses his temper at a shell-shocked soldier, a moment that will come back to haunt him.

OTHER MUSINGS:

"God help me, I do love it so."
-Patton reflects on war in the aftermath of a battle.

Patton is a strange sort of epic. It offers the large-scale battle scenes you expect from a big-studio war movie, but those scenes are not at the center of the story. The focus is much more on the mercurial, self-sabotaging title character. More time in spent with characters in rooms, talking and planning and arguing, than is spent in the midst of action.

The script earned Francis Ford Coppola his first Academy Award (alongside co-writer Edmund H. North), and I doubt it's a coincidence that he was able to direct The Godfather not long after. The story is carefully crafted. Most of what's portrayed is reasonably accurate by Hollywood standards, but incidents are selected and used to fashion a neat arc out of messy reality. There are quiet stretches, with the entire middle of the film moving away from the battlefield to focus on Patton's time in the wilderness, and yet the pace never flags. At nearly three hours, the film goes by remarkably quickly.

George C. Scott's performance and sheer screen presence anchors this, with Karl Malden is every bit his equal. Supporting performances are also strong, from Paul Stevens' loyal aide, who often seems more politically savvy than his superior, to Siegfried Rauch's Steiger, a German officer tasked with researching the general, who comes to identify with his subject.

Patton is well made, with several memorable visual moments, though I don't think it ever quite reaches the heights of David Lean's Lawrence of Arabia, another Oscar winning war biography centered around a brilliant but flawed central figure. There's a certain self-consciousness in some of the visuals, as if director Franklin J. Schaffner wants you to know which moments are the most "important" ones. It's not quite a problem with this film - few directors could compete with David Lean at his height - but it is something I noticed a few times while watching.

The movie gets a big lift from its music. Jerry Goldsmith's main theme is stirring and atmospheric. It doesn't simply play unaltered throughout the movie, with slight variations to match changes in mood and setting, while snatches of it also play within the general incidentals. No disrespect to Francis Lai's score for Love Story, and I suppose that film was such a huge hit that it needed to win something... but I find Patton's score to be richer, more memorable, and simply better.

The film offers several striking visuals, but some of them feel a bit self-conscious.

SEQUEL:

In 1986, CBS aired The Last Days of Patton, which saw George C. Scott returning to his most famous role. This telefilm, which aired in a 3-hour time slot (2.5 hours without commercials), covered the last part of Patton's life, from his short-lived governorship of Bavaria to his paralysis and eventual death after a car accident.

George C. Scott was much closer in age to the real Patton than he had been for the 1970 motion picture, and his performance is again excellent. The first part, which covers Patton's time in Bavaria, is interesting. The pace sags afterward, however, and the final hour becomes a slog.

Had this been limited to a 2-hour slot, with a tighter script, I think it would have been a fine companion piece to the movie. But I suspect Scott reprising Patton was too strong an incentive for the network to limit the ad space it could sell. The movie has merit, but there just isn't enough story to fill the time. I'd still label it worth watching for fans of the original film, particularly since it can regularly be found streaming free-with-ads on various services.

A defiant Patton is determined to secure victory.

OVERALL:

Patton is highly entertaining, and a sharp character study of a difficult and complex figure. Though entirely sympathetic to the title character, it doesn't skimp on portraying his many faults. This helps to bring Patton to life in a way that a hagiography wouldn't achieve.

Some of the visual moments feel oddly self-conscious to me, I think because they are directed with a precision that isn't necessarily present in other scenes. Still, it's well made and thoroughly engaging throughout, and it's bolstered by an outstanding central performance by George C. Scott.  At just shy of three hours, I can't think of a single second that left me even slightly restless - and the iconic opening is worth a point all on its own.


Rating: 8/10.

Best Picture - 1969: Midnight Cowboy
Best Picture - 1971: The French Connection

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