7/18/23
Newsletter #400
The Crack of Dawn
Back when this sort of thing seemed to matter (to me, anyway), I saw The Godfather (1972) in the movie theater 16 times, and The Godfather Part II (1974) 14 times. Then 16 years elapsed before they made The Godfather Part III (1990). In that interval my buddy Rick and I discussed what Godfather III should be many, many times.
Since the first two films essentially tell the same story three times: (in chronological order) Vito’s rise to power by eliminating his enemy, Don Fanucci; Vito ceding power to his son, Michael, who must then eliminate his enemies, the heads of all five families; and then Michael trying to hold on to his power through changing times, then eliminating all of his enemies. That’s the repeating story that took us from 1900 to 1960. It ends with Michael sitting contemplatively on the lawn, as the low angle shot slowly pushes in him, following the blowing leaves. That shot, by the way, was absolutely inspired by an extremely similar shot in Bernardo Bertolucci’s visually stunning film, The Conformist (1970), photographed by the great cinematographer, Vittorio Storaro. Storaro would go on to shoot many of Francis Coppola’s subsequent movies, like Apocalypse Now (1979). When all of us film geeks saw The Conformist, which isn’t an exceptional story, but looks at good as any movie ever made, we all took note of the low-angle push following the blowing leaves. When it reappeared in The Godfather Part II it was clearly an homage and utilized perfectly.
Anyway, cut to Rick and I all over Hollywood between 1974 and 1990 discussing and working out the details for what Godfather III should be. Obviously, it’s the handover of power from Michael to Anthony, and it’s during the 1960s. That’s what comes next. Right from the very beginning of The Godfather, Vito (Marlon Brando) has made it clear that he does not want to go into the drug business (“Lotta money in that white powder,” remarks Sonny [James Caan]). Well, now it’s the 1960s, and if you want to hold on to your power, like it or not, the Corleone family must go into the drug business. Anthony takes control of the family, goes into the drug trade, and eliminates the competition (as Tom Hagen [Robert Duvall] asks Michael, “Do you have to kill everybody?” and Michael replies, “No, only my enemies”). But within the time frame of the universe of Mario Puzo’s The Godfather, Al Pacino, Diane Keaton, and whomever came back — Richard Castelano wouldn’t come back for II and Robert Duvall wouldn’t come back for III — would be the age they were – 10, 15, 20 years older than the last film. Whenever they finally made it.
But no. Coppola set it in present-day, 1990, thus forcing him to use old-age makeup on everybody. It wasn’t about drugs, America in the 1960s and ‘70s, a power handover, or the elimination of the perceived enemy, or competition, as it were; it was some horseshit with the Vatican? With George Hamilton instead of Robert Duvall? Oy vey! I nominate The Godfather Part III as the wrongest sequel ever, and man, there’s been some wrong sequels.
I saw an interview with Robert Duvall and he was asked why he didn’t do the third one. He said, the whole story was told in the first two films. If everybody wanted to come back 20 years later strictly for the money, he’d do it too, but he had to paid as much as Al Pacino. So they got George Hamilton instead. What did it matter? Every decision was wrong. The brilliant cinematographer, Gordon Willis, known as “The Prince of Darkness,” who created true stunning art with the photography of the first two films, could no longer achieve that specific look because the laboratory they had previously used, Technicolor in Rome, had closed and taken the process with them.
So it's 1990, and Rick and I were there in line for the very first screening of The Godfather Part III at the Chinese Theater in Hollywood in 70mm, with six-track sound. It was sold out, but no one was terribly enthusiastic, nor were we. We’d all seen the trailer and the old age makeup; we all knew we were in trouble. However, fifteen minutes into the film the dialogue went off, but the music and effects kept going. The audience began clapping and yelling, louder and louder, until the knuckleheads at the theater realized they had a problem. They finally stopped the film. After a lengthy wait, we were informed that we would now be seeing a 35mm print. It picked up where it had left off, but it now didn’t look or sound nearly as good as the 70mm print. It was interesting seeing the comparison.
Rick had a tendency to slump in his seat, particularly when he was bored. At the end of the 160 excruciating minutes Godfather III, Rick’s neck was down on the seat and his head was propped up at little bit. He whispered, “Disaster.”
It’s indeed the crack of dawn, and this is the 400th newsletter, with still no news. There are about 100 readers every day. Perhaps ten people push the like button, and I thank you, but I don’t live for it. There are 120 subscribers, and nobody ever shares the newsletter. I guess you cherish it. It’s not a growing enterprise, so it’s good I’m not charging anything.
But it’s not an enterprise. And I don’t do it for you.
I do it just to do it.
And I’ll just keep doing it.
Cheers!
Thank you for reading.
There was a bigger point. When Coppola completely sold out and finally made Godfather III, it already didn't matter. It was expected. Everything he made throughout the '80s and '90s bombed. Why else would he do it? I've said it before, and I'm sticking to it, nobody's made a better, more sophisticated, beautiful film than Godfather Part II in 1974. As an artform movies topped out right there.