The Godfather so easily could have been a pulp production capitalising on the success of Mario Puzo’s novel. So what makes it the widely regarded classic that so many cannot refuse? The novel was a popular tale of crime and intrigue with complex anti-heroes.
Paramount Pictures saw this and, in a safe bet to appeal to this audience, snatched the rights. Acknowledging the failure of earlier mob piece: Brotherhood (starring Kirk Douglas) – a film set in Italy that lacked any Italian-American actors or producers – Paramount hired the fledgling Italian-Tunisian director, Francis Ford Coppola. Coppola’s vision for the film was uncompromising, leading to conflict between him and Paramount.
The film captures post-war America meticulously - despite Paramount’s insistence it should be placed in the modern day. The costume and set design, paired with Nino Rota’s classic soundtrack, pull you into this world of economic boom and social conflict. Paramount even considered Marlon Brando too famous and Al Pacino not famous enough for the production, but Coppola fought them and won, leading to two of cinema’s iconic (and endlessly quotable) performances.
While the film’s success has led to many of the performances being lost in an ocean of pastiche, they still hold up today. Diane Keaton (who plays Kay Adams, a spirited woman slowly corrupted by living amongst crime) is quietly understated, just like Kay’s role in the narrative. She portrays Kay’s slow transformation with subtlety, which, by the end of the film, becomes enthralling.
Just one of the many tour de force on display throughout. Like Keaton’s performance, the film’s staying power lies in what it does not say. We know our protagonists profit from violence, intimidation and addiction, but never in the film is this shown.
The film’s staying power lies in what it does not say
There is only the family and those who oppose it. This creates the impression of crime so poisonous and entrenched in institutions that it happens quietly, off-screen. This also cleverly tricks the viewer into rooting for its characters.
Negative space is used narratively but also visually. Our characters occupy dark spaces, shadows pooling in the creases of their skin. Gordon Willis, the cinematographer behind these striking images has been referred to as the ‘Prince of Darkness.’ These shots add to the moral complexities the story grapples with.
Most conversations in the film are our characters deciding what the most virtuous path for the family to go would be, but within this ominous backdrop. The opening sequence captures the contradiction in our characters brilliantly. The film begins with the lush and sacred wedding of Don Corleone’s daughter.
It is gloriously shot, radiant and vibrant. However, we soon realise that the guests laughing, singing and dancing are mostly made up of Mobsters and Mafiosos. The beauty of this day is painfully subverted later on in the film when we see our newlywed bride beaten by her husband, revealing how hypocritical and deeply misogynistic this world is.
The Godfather, defined by its complex narrative, powerful cinematography and generational performances, is a film you can only appreciate.