The Godfather Part II (1974)
Director: Francis Ford Coppola
Had I seen this before: Yes
Did I recognize the “famous quote” in the ad: Yes, not a lot of Fredos out in these cinematic streets
Previously, on The Godfather:
A wedding was celebrated. An offer was made that could not be refused. A horse’s career as a stud was cut short. Luca Brasi slept with the fishes. The gun was left; the cannoli was taken. Apollonia learned to drive. We all saw how they massacred his boy. A somber baptismal ceremony occurred. Michael settled all family business and Kay learned not to ask about it.
Before we embark on this one, a quick procedural note: I have recently instituted a personal viewing policy whereby I only feel obliged to take a film as seriously as it takes its female characters. Anyway, let’s talk about The Godfather Part II!
This is the vanishingly rare sequel that is widely considered as good as its preceding film (which in this case is one of the most celebrated American movies of the twentieth century). Now, I’m not here to explain to you why The Godfather is good. I’m not a Ken, although I do empathize with the Ken in that particular scene. But among the many qualities that recommend The Godfather, the most relevant to today’s post is an absolutely incredible final shot. Michael has lied to Kay about the violence he has conducted in order to placate her, while also forcefully warning her about ever inquiring further. She steps into the other room. Michael’s underlings surround him, kiss the hand, deferentially call him Don Corleone. Then, as Kay looks on helplessly, one of the men shuts the door, and that’s it. Michael has ascended to the top of the crime world and his actual family is forever going to be on the outside of that door. Your blood runs cold; the credits roll. The percentage of movies that pull off a note-perfect ending like that is in the single digits.
My minor issue with the sequel is that for me, the general sweep of Michael’s storyline in Part II is implied by the ending of the first movie. His power increases as his humanity recedes. He makes moves, makes enemies, makes mincemeat of his marriage. He ends the second movie all alone, having just ordered the murder of his sad dopey older brother. Of course he does all these things! The slowly closing door already told us he was going to do them. So, to clarify: The Godfather Part II is better than most movies. But I don’t think it’s quite as good as The Godfather.
What Part II does have to offer is a parallel story of young Vito Corleone’s rise in the early 20th century, featuring a baby Bobby De Niro. Vito ascends; Michael falls—we seesaw back and forth throughout the film. On this watch I was more drawn to the Vito story, although it’s hard to say why exactly. Normally I love watching downfalls! Big fan. But the seediness of early 60s gambling racket and depressing state of…pretty much everything in Michael’s world just didn’t compel me quite as much as the rough-hewn setting of Vito’s early days in an Italian neighborhood in 1910s-20s New York. Plus Bruno Kirby is there, and if I’m not watching him argue with Carrie Fisher over a wagon wheel coffee table, I may as well see him boosting fancy rugs as a small-time hood. (Sorry to hijack my own post about a very serious and important film but that scene from When Harry Met Sally is so funny—Bruno Kirby, wearing jorts and tall white socks, yelling that he has good taste; Billy Crystal pulling a George Costanza-style exit; Meg Ryan scrunching her nose and illuminating the entire room; Carrie Fisher alllllllmost cracking when she delivers that last, beautiful punchline. A MASTERPIECE.) (It also boasts a significant New Year’s Eve scene, much like The Godfather Part II, so there you go, I brought it back around.)
Vito is nine years old and living in Corleone, Sicily, when his father and older brother are murdered on the orders of the local crime boss. He sneaks out of Sicily in a cart of hay like Annie escaping the orphanage in a pile of laundry. He takes a ship to America, his last name gets the Ellis Island special (swapped for his city of origin), he gets quarantined for smallpox, and then…we flash forward to Vito as a young adult, married and working for a local grocer. It’s not exactly clear how he made his way from the quarantine ward to a reasonably stable life in his new country, but it is implied that his neighborhood of fellow immigrants was an important factor. Which is probably why he bristles so much at Don Fanucci, the local “Black Hand”—not that he is an extortionist per se, but that he is extorting his own people, in his own neighborhood. Vito loses his job when Fanucci demands that it be given to a relative of his, and he begins stealing with Clemenza (Bruno Kirby). At one point De Niro stands solemnly in a shadowy doorway in a manner that makes me strongly reconsider my stance on an important debate topic. When Fanucci demands a significant cut of Vito and Clemenza’s take, to “wet his beak,” Vito decides to take him out, in a great scene that involves running across the rooftops during the Feast of San Rocco. He then steps into the leadership vacuum left by Fanucci’s death, but rather than gain power solely through intimidation, he courts genuine loyalty by helping people in the neighborhood. The days of the Black Hand are over; the era of The Godfather has begun. (He also returns to Sicily to find the now-old man who killed his family and slices him open like a fish. Obviously.)
In the other plot line, Michael is…I don’t know. All over the damn place. He throws a huge party on Lake Tahoe for his son’s first communion. His sister Connie is wilding out and asking for money. “More annoying,” Coppola directs his real-life sister in a way that isn’t weird at all, “you exist solely to make your brother’s life harder.” Fredo is married to a blonde lady who is also wilding out, in more of a dance-floor-breakdown sort of way. We love women, don’t we folks? Kay alone is normal, and not-yet-visibly pregnant. That night, she asks Michael why the drapes in their room are open and he responds by dropping to the floor because he correctly assessed that an assassination attempt was imminent. He goes to Miami to visit a frenemy named Hyman Roth who is based on Meyer Lansky. Roth is the one who wants him killed because of….mobster stuff. He’s mad about Moe Greene from the first movie maybe? Please don’t yell at me Internet Men, I’m sort of trying. But Michael isn’t letting on that he knows about Roth’s involvement in that yet. There’s so much of that kind of thing in his storyline. Maybe my attention span is simply too deficient for this film.
Michael goes to Cuba for business deal reasons. There, he realizes that Fredo was also involved in Roth’s plot because Fredo lied about not knowing Uncle Junior. Michael gives him a big ol’ kiss and delivers the line. He also realizes that the Cuban president’s future is not looking especially bright. He escapes Cuba as the government falls, sans Fredo.
Next up are some Senate hearings but nothing comes of them because Michael has too many layers of protection between himself and the actual murders he is ordering, and because he intimidates a witness into recanting his testimony and because he has a senator in his pocket whom he blackmailed by murdering a sex worker and setting him up to believe he did it while in a blackout. The movie seems slightly less concerned about this dead woman than it did about Jack Woltz’s horse in the first movie. At least we got to meet the horse while it was still alive.
Kay splits, and tells Michael that her miscarriage was actually an abortion so that the breakup really takes. This is a successful strategy and they are permanently estranged. Mama Coreleone dies, which is bad news for Fredo, because not wanting to break her heart was the only thing keeping Michael from ordering his death. So now it’s time for Fredo’s last fishing trip and Michael is left all alone at his Lake Tahoe compound. Fin.
Typing it all out, the only conclusion I can come to is that I’m just more mad at Michael than I am Vito, and that’s why I liked Vito’s plot better, even though this is technically all Vito’s doing. He started the family business and also raised all these lunatics. But, you know. Classier. Anyway, I guess this is the definitive story of America or at least some of her more sociopathic men.
The Regal Ad
The outfit: The original scene takes place at a black tie formal New Year’s Eve party but I think they just let Danny Trejo wear whatever he wanted. And I support that. N/A
The line: There are a lot of other lines in The Godfather saga that I personally like better, but this is certainly one of the most memorable scenes from Part II, and it’s very easy to place. A-
The context: He is accusing the young woman sitting next to him of stealing his soda when he wasn’t looking. Is her name Fredo? Unclear. I would have respected this ad more if they had let Trejo go all out and aggressively grab her head before delivering the line, but clearly they were lacking the courage of their convictions on this one. All we can say for sure is that this is grave betrayal for which he is probably ready to send her out on a fishing boat with a stern-looking Sicilian. B-
Pasta alla Siciliana from Sip and Feast
I think having a reason to make some real-deal Italian food was about 70% of my motivation for doing this whole series. And it was worth it! This was delicious, and how could it not be. Of course, it would have made just as much sense to make Cuban food for this movie—at lunch with Michael, Fredo orders one dandy of a banana daiquiri.
Up next: “As if”