Guns, Cannoli and offers you can't refuse

 The most recent book I've read for no other reason than my own pleasure (distinct from books that I read ahead of events, interviews or to provide a puff quote) was 'Leave the Gun, Take the Cannoli' by Mark Seal.

It's the fascinating story of how the novel and film 'The Godfather' became realities.

I cannot believe that the movie is 50 years old this year. I mean, talk about feeling old! I can remember going to see it in a cinema called the Coliseum in Glasgow. I was under age - the film was an X certificate in the UK and so, technically, I had to be over 18.

I was blown away by it. It was long, some might slow. It was dark, some might say visually impenetrable. It was utterly brilliant, some might say boring. Those people who agree with the second half of those three sentences are wrong.

I have spoken.

I still have the commemorative booklet bought at the screening. They used to do that sort of thing for special films - the event movies of yesteryear. Nowadays event movies seem to be filled with people throwing things through walls while wearing outlandish costumes. 

Otherwise known as a Saturday night in Glasgow.

(I'm kidding, don't write in. Anyway, I'm from Glasgow and I'm allowed to say these things.)

I rushed out and bought the album of Nino Rota's score, probably one of the earliest soundtrack albums I bought. I still have it, too.

I read Mario Puzo's book and wondered at the amount of material that was excised from the movie, some of which made it into Godfather 2. Yup, you guessed it - I still have that paperback copy.

I loved Godfather 2 and liked the much maligned Godfather 3. I've read the prequel to the novel, 'The Family Corleone' by Ed Falco. It was enjoyable.

Now I'm watching 'The Offer', a drama based on the experiences of the film's producer Albert S Ruddy in making the film. It's had some lukewarm reviews but I am loving it. 

So, all-in-all you could say I'm a kind of fan. I even had a sneaky wee tribute to the plot in my first novel 'Blood City'. The central premise of criminals coming together to form a collective in Glasgow in the early 1980s to sew up the heroin trade was based on what may be an urban legend in the city's underworld but it also mirrors the clash between the Corleone's and Solozzo in the first half of the book and film.

A few weeks ago James Caan sadly died. Thanks to the film he became one of my favourite actors, not realising I'd already seen him in 'El Dorado' with John Wayne. Robert Duvall also became a favourite, again not realising he was Boo Radley in 'To Kill a Mockingbird' and had faced off against Wayne (again) in 'True Grit' as Lucky Ned Pepper.

And then there's Al Pacino. I'm a big fan of his, too. I cherish seeing him live in London's West End in 'American Buffalo.'

I don't think of it as an 'old' film but I suppose to modern day movie goers it is. To say they don't make 'em like that anymore is true, they really don't. And that's a shame. 

RIP, James Caan. 

Bada-bing.

As It Was, But Not Much Better

Lately I've been feeding my nostalgia for the 70s by watching contemporary crime movies. Mind you, I graduated from high school in 1973 and I hated the time (just as most teenagers hate their high-school years).  What jumps out from those movies set in New York City is how much has changed there since then. I have first-hand knowledge because I was actually in NYC in 1973-75 and was overwhelmed by the grit, filth, and crime. In Times Square, you could stand on a street corner and watch violent crimes happen. Everything seemed smothered in graffiti. The ambiance was of inevitable collapse. The movie Heavy Metal has a scene of a science-fiction New York rife with corruption and decay and there was no reason that it wouldn't turn out that way. Of course, the Big Apple has since morphed into a theme park for the rich and is America's largest gated community. My sister lives in Midtown Manhattan and when I tell her how it was back in the day, I might as well be talking about mastodons and saber-tooth tigers. In Taxi Driver, Travis Bickle (Robert DeNiro) holes up in a tiny studio apartment that can best be described as squalid. Today, the same space would be a million dollar condo. Easy. Al Pacino's character in Serpico rents a garden-level apartment in Greenwich Village, then the bohemian nexus of the East Coast. By modern standards the place is run down but was acceptably chic for its day. Nail boards together, paint everything white, and decorate it with eclectic flourishes.

What else jumps out from these movies is the undercurrent of racism. Pretty much all the riff-raff criminals in The French Connection, Serpico, and Death Wish are black. In those days that was actually seen as progressive because in prior years, blacks weren't even portrayed as that. Sadly, if you go back further, the situation was worse. I was watching one of Humphrey Bogart's lesser known titles, High Sierra, and was dismayed by the character Algernon, played by Willie Best. Given his role as the mountain camp caretaker, Best could've been allowed to play his part with more dignity and realism. But he was costumed in threadbare clothes, shuffled about, was inclined to laziness, and spoke the required "sho nuff" dialog. At least, I suppose, he got a substantial speaking part. Unfortunately, like most black actors from that era, in later years he was denounced as a witless stooge, though, as he pointed out, he didn't have much choice. Either take the part as is, or get out.

Which makes me think that despite our "wokeness" in this hyper-PC environment, future generations will look back at us and ask, "What were they thinking?"

Now Playing

The remake of The Beguiled looked lush and mysterious. I like the actors in the film. However, I am unlikely to see it in the theater. I saw the original with Clint Eastwood in the role of the wounded Yankee soldier. Although it would be an interesting exercise to read the novel -- which I never got around to doing -- and then see the remake, I'm sure I won't. I'll wait to watch this version one winter evening while curled up on the sofa.

I love movies, but these days -- with limited time -- when I go to the theater to see a movie, I want a film that won't play as well on my television at home. Last weekend, a couple of friends and I saw Wonder Woman.
Special effects like that require a big screen.  And there are some movies that simply deserve to be experienced in the theater because they are quiet and thoughtful.

But getting back to remakes -- I don't think I would ever go to see a remake of To Kill a Mockingbird. I regretted seeing the remake of Psycho. But this in not to say either couldn't be done well. I'm just protective of movies I love. That list includes Double Indemnity.

On the other hand, there is Scarface. I have the fascinating experience of introducing undergrads in my Crime and Mass Media course to classic crime films. When I say Scarface, they say "Al Pacino". They are always surprised to learn that there was a 1932 film. First, we watch clips from the 1932 version, set during Prohibition. Then we turn to the 1983 film set during the Mariel boatlift.  The city is now Miami, not Chicago. Cocaine fuels Tony's rise to the top. The Hollywood Production Code has been replaced by the movie rating system, and the movie is hyper-violent.

Or, Cape Fear -- based on a John D. MacDonald novel -- first version starring Gregory Peck as a lawyer whose family is under siege by Robert Mitchum, one of the scariest actors around. Then the remark with Nick Nolte in the role of the attorney, but now with a dysfunctional family, a wife with whom he is in conflict, an adolescent daughter who is easy prey for Robert De Niro. Gregory Peck manages to defeat his enemy without killing him. Nolte, on the other hand, has to kill De Niro, who for a moment seems to be as hard to stop as a slasher in a serial killer movie. Remember that scene in Fatal Attraction, when Glenn Close pops back up in the bathtub?

I think remakes are worth seeing when the filmmaker goes in a different direction and offers commentary for a new audience. But I am bothered by the fact that modern audiences may have less context for movie watching than theater audiences used to bring to the experience. Of course, movies are intended to be fun. But they do also offer a window into our society. And we may misinterpret if we don't know what came before.

I'm looking forward to losing myself in a few more movies before school begins again. And I'm going to be spending some quality time with TCM.

Any thoughts about remakes? What summer movies on your "must see" list?