The Godfather (Paramount Pictures, 1972)
So if you decide to write smartass reviews about movies, it logically follows that selecting The Godfather would be a good choice. Widely regarded as one of the best films of all time to take place in New Jersey, it’s a film anyone who knows movies should have seen.
Which is exactly why it’s the wrong movie to pick. What can I say about The Godfather that hasn’t already been said? I can only rehash it as unintelligibly as its actors dialogue.
Seriously, what the fuck are they saying? I often found the restaurant scene in Italian to be easier to understand, and I studied German.
Even stoned, you can recognize that this film has layers of depth and subtlety that rightfully earn its accolades. Brando captures the charisma and power of Vito Corleone effortlessly, and Pacino is the very embodiment of every character Al Pacino plays. There are other actors in it. Like Robert Duvall.
That said, I’m still going to talk about it anyway. Or write about it. Or something.
FAMILY VALUES
Perhaps what I found most compelling about The Godfather is how it explores value systems. This is established front and center, from the very first scene. In it, a local businessman, Bonasera, explains how he tried to live by the laws of the land and eschews the soul-selling that the Mafia requires. But when his daughter is beaten (and presumably raped) and the defendants are let go with a slap on the wrist, he comes to Vito Corleone, CEO of Legitimate Business Incorporated, for justice. He wants them dudes dead.
Brando’s Vito embodies what I would imagine the devil to be like. Civilized, powerful, and inviting. (And I should know, I have been called “the devil.” I am so sorry to that particular ex girlfriend or two.) He listens with all of his attention, sympathetic but unwavering until Bonasera is finished.
And this is where Vito springs into action. “This I cannot do,” Vito says, when asked to kill those assholes.
You see, Bonasera came in applying an American value system: one in which goods and services are bought and paid for. He wants to pay Vito to perpetrate a crime of vengeance, and assumes that Vito is simply offering a service in a different (black) market. This is not at all the case.
Vito builds a powerful moral argument. He points out how Bonasera has always kept him away, not shown him respect. “You never write, you never call,” is Vito’s sentiment. Further, he points out that what Bonasera is asking for is not proportional. His daughter may have (and I struggle how to finish this sentence without sounding like an asshole) had a horrific experience, she is ultimately still alive. Vito recognizes that to murder is to cross a boundary that can never be undone, and feels that it must be a last resort, lest all hell break loose.
Vito lays it out in simple terms. If you want to stay a civilian, then take what the judge gave you. “But if you come to me with your friendship, your loyalty, then your enemies become my enemies[.]”
So, sell your soul and join my kingdom, and live by my rules, and I will bring you whatever you want. But the mechanism for selling your soul is not a contract or even a simple agreement – it is to adopt a different value system: One that lives and dies by loyalty to individuals, not institutions; that embraces the in-group and deeply resents outsiders. But the cornerstone of all of this is R-E-S-P-E-C-T, find out what it means to me.
Everything. Respect is currency, and when you buy in to the family you buy into a different monetary system: one in which you are judged by what you contribute back to the group.
People often look at gangsters and say, well, they don’t have morality! They’re brutal! They’re misogynistic! They’re criminals!
Not wrong, but they do have morality. It’s just a different morality. It’s a morality that exempts itself above the law, and considers itself above those who aren’t in the group.
It is exactly this sense of morality that sets the events of the film in motion. Sollozzo, a new man on the local scene, is going to bring in “the future” of income for the Mafia: Drugs. Don Corleone wants nothing to do with it. “How a man makes his living is none of my business. But this proposition of yours is too risky.”
Later, Corleone considers capitulating as a means of making peace at his Mafia Board Meeting, and others try to follow the value of protecting the in-group. Says Don Zaluchi, “In my city, I would try to keep the traffic in the dark people, the colored. […] Let them lose their souls with drugs.”
See? Really nice guy, looking out for his community. And the upstanding citizen award goes to Don Zaluchi! Family values all the way.
So, I guess you could say that The Godfather is actually a family film! Gather the kids, Martha, it’s time to learn some values.
FIVE LEADERSHIP LESSONS FROM DON CORLEONE
In watching Vito’s meeting with Sollozzo (and other interactions in general), I found myself impressed by the lessons in leadership that Vito has to offer. And subsequently, found myself deeply disturbed by the previous statement, but whatever. I hated myself to begin with.
So what can we learn from Don Corleone’s leadership style?
And now… five leadership lessons from Don Corleone:
- Listen intently to your counterpart. Truly take in what they have to say. Vito’s words clearly reflect a deep respect for the perspective of Sollozzo.
- Speak plainly and courageously. Vito says very little, and when he speaks, every word counts (unlike mine that just blather on and on for eternity for ever and ever without end, it just goes on and never seems to stop, even when the point is belabored, and then still goes on a little more). “Why do I deserve your generosity?” “What percentages for my family?” “And what is the percentage of the Tattaglia family?” Every question is a punch of honesty, and encourages a punch of honesty in return. In other words, “Cut the shit.”
- When negotiating, recognize and respect the relationship, but stay true to your position. “I [saw] you because I’ve heard you’re a serious man, to be treated with respect… but I’ll say no to you. I’ll give you my reasons.” At which point, Vito does indeed plainly explain his reasons, and reasons that are very, well, reasonable. Such as narcotics being a major shitshow. Vito obviously had the downlow on Narcos or saw an early screening of Scarface or something. Or, just like, thought like a functioning adult who wasn’t blinded by greed.
- Have a brain trust of different perspectives. Vito doesn’t go to the meeting alone – he brings his entire inner circle. In earlier scenes, we see how he interacts with them: asking them for advice, considering their positions, challenging their ideas or praising them, even mentoring them in how to think like a Don.
- Hold your cards to your chest and present a unified front. When Santino “Sonny” Corleone speaks out of turn, he speaks on behalf of his Don. But maybe worse than that, he tips his hand as to existing tension and risks striking a tone that “the family” embodied by Vito would not choose to take. Everyone in the room knows Sonny was dumb, and Vito pulls him aside and corrects him after, because obviously tipping your hand about mafia politics while making your house look like it’s not in order isn’t a great thing to do. But Sonny was always a hothead.
- BONUS LESSON! Encourage the bad news. Later, Vito walks downstairs and knows something is up because everybody is crying and there’s no pasta on the table. He sits with consigliere Tom Hagen (Robert Duvall), who is pouring himself a drink. “I think you should tell your Don what everyone knows.” This isn’t the only time Vito encourages people to share bad news or things he won’t like hearing, but he always encourages it. He gets that in order to make good decisions, one must have access to the most information and the most perspectives. To do that, a leader must create an environment that is safe to have hard discussions and give bad news.
Honestly, I think there should be a book about leadership lessons from crime movies. Maybe one already exists. I’m too lazy to google it. And reading is hard.
I can see the title now: “Listen to Don Corleone… or he’ll break your fuckin’ neck!“
REVEALING THE MASTER PLAN
The final thought that stood out to me is a particular narrative choice made early in the film. We’re so used to the “master plan” trope following a specific pattern that goes like this:
Henchman: But what are we gonna do boss?
Boss: I’ll tell you exactly what we’re gonna do. We’re going to… (whisper whisper whisper whisper whisper)
Henchman: Wow boss, that’s diabolical! Let’s now spend the next fifteen minutes knowing that your plan is going to work well until it looks like it’s not, but then we’ll realize that WAS part of the plan the whole time!
Seriously, it’s everywhere and I hate it. I hate it like I hate my parents. Always tellin’ me things are gonna work out if I think ahead and work hard. Tell that to my ex wife. Bunch of assholes.
Anyway, Puzo, Coppola, and Towne’s screenplay says “fuck that noise” and, in a fit of bravery, Al Pacino’s Michael Corleone says, “Hey guys, check out how fucking smart I am. Let’s figure out where the meeting is going to be, and put a gun in the bathroom. Then I’ll kill our enemies in front of everyone and go chill out in Italy for a while.”
His hotheaded brother: “Great idea. And we’ll send our best gun hiding guy. Seriously, I want to make sure we put the gun there real hidey like.”
Everyone nods.
Having not seen the movie in over a decade, I forgot about this choice. I was like, “Oh man, wait! They’re ruining the whole thing! How are we going to do the trope!”
It’s brilliant thought. The tension comes from the preparation and build up. Will they find out where the meeting is held in time? Will he be able to find the gun? Will he be able to shoot them point blank in the head and ruin a dinner outing for a bunch of couples who are just trying to take one goddamn night away from their shrieking bastards? Will he remember to lower his arm and just let the gun fall out of his hand after doing the dirty?
Answers: Yes. Yes but it’s scary! Oh boy yes. No, despite being reminded so many times even the character comments about being nagged. So I guess he deserved the nagging.
So anyway, I thought that was pretty cool. But I was like, “Seriously? You didn’t listen on the gun thing after you said you were going to like a hundred times?”
It’s not even a big deal, but that was the one part of the plan that didn’t work as anticipated. Expectations subverted!
FINAL THOUGHTS
The Godfather is a good movie, and I like it.
VERDICT
Worth buying.