Notes on The Godfather

What follows presumes a knowledge of the Godfather films. If you've yet to see these masterworks, you may wish to avoid reading this post, as it provides no plot synopses and contains spoilers up the wazoo.

This past weekend Kelly and I had an impromptu Godfather marathon. Over three nights we watched Parts I and II, and got about half an hour into III before hitting the sack Sunday night. We've yet to finish the movie (which says something in itself) but will soon.

This was Kelly's first time seeing the movies. I'd seen all three many times before, but it had been seven or eight years since the last time I'd sat down and really watched them all in a row. I was living with my buddy Manash at the time, and our friend Azad was crashing at our place. And at any given time over a period of perhaps two weeks one of us was watching one of the Godfather movies. They were in constant rotation. And opinions abounded. Me, I preferred Part II. But it's true that the first two movies really are inextricably linked. The third is another matter.

In watching the films this time, I was struck first off by how much more suspenseful the first movie is than I remembered it being. And how like a beautiful chess game the second is. Moves and countermoves, with strategies and motivations often known only to the characters until - and often past - the very end. I've read essays that even now question who in fact ordered the hit on Michael. Pentangeli or Roth. For my money, it was Roth. And I say this mostly because of Fredo's confession to Michael in the lawn chair.

And Pacino, what an actor! The change Michael undergoes over the course of the first two films is epic, but his performance is so understated. Punctuated by moments of explosion, yes, but first and foremost a slooooowww burn that just sits like magma beneath the surface, waiting to erupt. What particularly blows my mind is how clear his thought process is throughout the second movie. How subtle and how wordless he can be, and yet how much he says. You almost don't even realize how much Michael's changed until the last flashback at the end, when you're reminded what he was like at the beginning of Part I. And your mind is blown. Your heart broken.

But there are a few specific things that really came to mind while watching the movies that made me want to write this post. The first is a matter in the first film.

Michael is in the restaurant bathroom. He's feeling behind the toilet for the gun, and he starts to panic. It's not there. We cut back to the restaurant, where Sollozzo and McCluskey are eating. They turn and look toward the bathroom as if to say "What's taking him so long?" We then cut back to the bathroom. Michael's still fumbling around behind the toilet, then he stops. Pauses. And pulls down the gun. We then watch him walk back into the restaurant, sit down, and there's that awwwwesome slow push in on his face as he works up the nerve to stand up and shoot both men in the head. Amazing scene. Classic.

But if I were Coppola, I'd have done it like this: Michael's feeling behind the toilet for the gun, and he starts to panic. It's not there! We cut back to the restaurant, where Sollozzo and McCluskey are eating. They turn and look toward the bathroom as if to say "What's taking him so long?" We then cut back to the bathroom. Michael's still fumbling around behind the toilet, then he stops. He pauses. We then cut right to him walking back into the restaurant and sitting down. And the scene goes on as before, with that awwwwesome slow push in to his face. Only this time, because we cut out of the bathroom early, we don't know whether or not he has the gun... until he stands up and starts shooting. Seems to me that would take an already intense scene and make it just that little bit more suspenseful than it already is.

I know, I know. I'm second guessing the master. But that's not the only thing I'd change.

In the second movie, it's so obvious that Pentangeli was supposed to be Clemenza that it's distracting. Hey, don't get me wrong. Michael V. Gazzo, who played Pentangeli, was awesome. I loved the guy. But the character is clearly supposed to be Clemenza. They even set it up in the first movie by having Tom Hagen say "I always thought it would be Clemenza." And then in Part II we see Vito meet Clemenza, we see their first crime together, we see the birth both of Clemenza's awed respect for Vito but also his jealousy and discomfort with the man's power. Clemenza and Tessio both. Tessio, who goes on to betray the Corleones in Part I.

My friend and coworker Ben Chavda, who knows more about the history of The Godfather than I, explained that Clemenza was supposed to be in Part II, but the actor, having had a taste of stardom after Part I, demanded that his screenwriter wife write all his dialogue. Coppola was like "Uhhhh..... no." So he replaced Clemenza with Pentangeli and had a character mention that Pentangeli took over after Clemenza died of a heart attack. "That was no heart attack," another character then intones ominously.

So I said to Chavda, you know what I would have done if I was Coppola? Just recast Clemenza. Because it's clearly supposed to be him. It's more of a betrayal if it's a character we knew in the first movie. There's all this setup leading to that character betraying the family. I dunno, Chavda told me. Those actors are pretty iconic with those characters. Abe Vigoda as Tessio, the actor who played Clemenza, you can't imagine anyone else. To which I replied: Exactly! 'The actor who played Clemenza'! You don't even remember his name! You totally could have recast him!

Turns out the actor who played Clemenza was Richard Castellano, whose name might be household now had he not overplayed his hand back in 1973.

Okay, so let's say Castellano is too iconic. Too associated with the role of Clemenza to recast him. Let's say you've already made the call to replace the character with Pentangeli. Then here's my Plan B:

Write Pentangeli into the flashbacks! You've got this whole other storyline in the movie following Vito's rise to power. We see him meet Clemenza and Tessio. And we see him hanging around with this other guy, the son of a grocer. This guy is in love with a local actress and ends up as Vito's assistant when he's running his affairs out of the olive oil importing office. The character is Genco Abbandando, played by an actor named Frank Sivero. That character plays no part in the modern storyline and is, for all intents and purposes, totally replaceable. MAKE THAT CHARACTER FRANKIE PENTANGELI. That way Pentangeli was there from the very beginning, making his betrayal really sting in the modern storyline! But Dan, you say, Genco is the namesake of the olive oil company the Corleones use as their front! To that I say fine, so change the character's name to Genco Pentangeli! Done! Next?

Okay, so that's it. Those are the changes I would make to The Godfather. Other than those things, man, those first two movies are pretty freaking perfect. It really is a world you live in, sink into, and just want to explore. Like Blade Runner. Like Avatar. Like Red Riding. It's more than a film. It's a universe. And watching them again, I can't help but be reminded WHY these movies are as lauded as they are. They are masterpieces.