Retrospective: The Godfather (Patreon)

One can't pinpoint a single defining moment in The Godfather where Michael Corleone turns from a warm and decent young American into a monster of post-war capitalism. The same instincts that drive him to care for his family and protect his father lead him to become a Machiavellian neo-feudal lord who kills his enemies and betrays his friends and loved one. But perhaps the first turning point is the moment when Michael learns that his father has been shot. The scene is brilliantly scripted and blocked, showing us Michael and Fay Adams walking past a newsstand and then cutting to Fay's shocked reaction at something she's seen. It's perfectly matter-of-fact, the way we often receive bad news. At soon as Michael grabs the newspaper, he leaps into action, the instincts that preserved him in wartime taking over, as he slips into a phone booth to learn the facts of his father's shooting. It's a moment of admirable strength and preparedness; in this moment, Michael is a classic American hero, prepared to defend his family, spurred by love and loyalty but acting with poise and sagacity. Pacino's countenance changes in this scene; for the rest of the film, he is no longer the sanguine boy who pulled his girlfriend into a family portrait.

The rest of the film shows a cavalcades of turning points: the brilliant hospital sequence featuring possibly Brando's finest acting, the moment when Michael murders the loathsome Solozzo and McCluskey, the assassination of Apollonia, the iconic baptism, the murder of Carlo, and the final scene, where he lies to Kay and symbolically shuts the door on her. Coppola and Puzo turn the latter's frankly execrable pulp hit into a classic Greek tragedy, a rare genuine one, where a good man's finest instincts turn him into an instrument of evil.

On top of that, we can have plenty of fun looking at the Machiavellian games in The Godfather, which is a saga of a gang war between two minor factions, a fact overshadowed by the film's stature as a giant of American popular culture. Vito's conservative nature, and his roots as a man more interested in caring for his diaspora than in power itself, leads him to reject drugs, the supposed economic future of the mob. One sees in Vito a man who was once good, someone who cared for his family, now essentially buying and renting the loyalty of human beings. His son Santino is, of course, motivated purely by libido and rage, and would probably operate a YouTube channel today. Solozzo, whose actions are only slightly more measured than Sonny's, has no trouble playing dirty tricks, betraying confidences; the mob has no more regard for the rules of conduct. Michael, improbably embodies the instincts of all three: a calculating Machiavellian grandmaster driven by rage, a desire to consolidate power, and early on, genuine love. The schizoid nature of this rends his soul; the character we see in this film's sequel is a shell of the man we see in The Godfather. One of America's only true tragedies, and perhaps our greatest saga of the Twentieth Century.