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.

Mattresses, guns and cannoli

Earlier this week I tweeted that the film version of 'The Godfather' is 50 years old this year.

Think about that.

It means that 50 years before  I first saw this seminal movie, the flicks were silent.

Mind. Blown.

I don't see 'The Godfather' as an old movie at all. I don't see any films from the 70s as old, really. But to many, they really are.

I still remember watching it for the first time. It was in the Coliseum Cinema in Glasgow, like many  old picture palaces no longer with us. It was an X certificate in the UK, which I meant I was too young but often that restriction was taken as more a guideline than a rule. 

My mother was unimpressed by it - she thought it slow - but I loved it. I loved Gordon Willis' dark photography (not for nothing was he known as the Prince of Darkness). I loved the languid approach. I loved the rich detail. I loved the bursts of action. 

Did I mention that I loved it?

I still have the commemorative booklet that you could buy in the cinema, for this was an event movie. I bought the soundtrack album and I still have that, too. I bought and devoured the book. And yes, I still have it.

The book fires off in a lot of different directions, with a lot more involving the Hollywood star Johnny Fontaine (a thinly-disguised Frank Sinatra). It ran for less than 450 pages. Think about the epic sweep, the number of characters and incidents and the impact it had, much to author Mario Puzo's relief. Then think about those modern day crime novels that are longer.

What Francis Coppola did was streamline the plot to focus on the family at the story's core and the darkness at the heart of US and international commerce. The first film and its two sequels - yes, I seem to be in the minority regarding the third one in that I like it - are masterclasses in mixing popular storytelling with art.

Of course, he is aided by a superb cast. Pacino, Duvall, Caan, Cazale and, of course, Brando. But let's not forget Diane Keaton who did wonders with what is really a nothing part. And Talia Shire whose arc over the three, in just a few scenes, is brilliant.

And then there's the lines, so wonderfully utilised by the much-missed Nora Ephron in 'You've Got Mail' very much as the secret of life.

Going to the mattresses.

Leave the gun, take the cannoli.

This is business, not personal.

And that offer that cannot be refused.

It wasn't the first mob movie, of course, although in the late 60s Paramount had lost a bundle on the Kirk Douglas starrer 'The Brotherhood'. The original 'Scarface' apart, the gangster flicks of the golden years didn't have Italian-American protagonists in the main. With James Cagney strutting his stuff they were very much of Irish descent.

Later came movies like 'The Black Hand' (1950) with J. Carroll Naish as a fictional version of Joseph Petrosino, the real-life cop who waged war against the forerunner of what became popularly known as the Mafia. Ernest Borgnine played the actual Petrosino on 1960's 'Pay or Die'. In 'The Enforcer' (the 1951 film not the later Clint Eastwood police thriller), Humphrey Bogart took on Murder Inc, although the real-life leader Albert Anastasia became a character called Mendoza.

On TV, of course, there was 'The Untouchables', based on the book by Oscar Fraley and Elliot Ness. The show was a huge hit but drew criticism over its depiction of Italian-Americans. To make up for it, they added an Italian-American to Ness's team. The show ran for five years - success not met by 'The Silent Force' which ran for only 15 episodes in 1970/71.

But it was Coppola's movie that had the greatest impact, spawning the aforementioned sequels, a mini-series in which the three films were edited into chronological order and a host of copy cats, most notable for me being 'The Valachi Papers', the true story of informer Joe Valachi, played in 1972 by Charles Bronson. Valachi was the first member of the Cosa Nostra to admit that it existed - for years J. Edgar Hoover had denied it - and this Italian-French co-production was based on the bestseller by Peter Maas, one of many Mafia-related books that I read post-Godfather. Another was journalist Fred J. Cook's Mafia!, which I read and re-read but lost when it was borrowed and never returned. I wish I could find a new copy. The Valachi movie, which took some liberties with fact, must have been in production when 'The Godfather' was being filmed and released. It's an inferior film, certainly, and in places overly bloody, but interesting. It does look dated though.

Unlike 'The Godfather, which to me looks as fresh and fascinating now as it was back in 1972. 

If only those of us of similar vintage - and older - did the same.

The Bad Guy Question

Sorry to have been away. It was end of semester and I lost track of my day to blog while reading student papers and getting my grades in. 

Douglas's Monday post caught my eye. I've thought a bit about The Sopranos and the bad guy question. As I may have mentioned here, I've been working on a book about the factual aspects of gangster films. The publisher asked me to do nine films and include The Sopranos as my tenth entry because of the TV series influence on popular culture.

I hadn't seen all of the episodes of The Sopranos  because I didn't have a subscription to HBO when it was on. I only caught an occasional episode when I was staying at a hotel during a conference. Even so, the show was popular enough that I was able to watch clips and read the commentary by critics and fans. With the book in progress, I decided to watch all six seasons. A daunting undertaking (86 episodes), but fascinating.

Tony Soprano and his crew presented me with a dilemma. It was the same moral dissonance that I experienced with the protagonists in the other gangster movies that I watched or re-watched. As Douglas noted about Tony and Christopher in The Sopranos, the display of humanity by characters who do really bad things can be disorienting. 

Michael Corleone in The Godfather does not intend to become a mobster. He has served in World War II and returned home planning to have a life outside the "family business". But when his father, Don Corleone, becomes the target of a rival crime family, Michael kills two men as they are dining in a restaurant. Sent off to Sicily, he marries and suffers the loss of his innocent young bride when one of his men plants a car bomb. Back home in America, his brother Sonny is ambushed and killed. Michael comes home, seeks out Kay, the woman who told he would never become a mobster, and persuades her to marry him. When Don Corleone dies of a heart attack while playing with his grandson in the garden, Michael steps into a role that his other brother is unable to assume. Michael becomes the head of his crime family.

Although many fans rate The Godfather, Part II as a even better movie than the first, I have to say that I find Michael Corleone unredeemable. He has settled too comfortably into his reign as don. He enjoys power too much. He is a dark character, ruthless, cruel. He is not a tragic hero, and I don't care about his fate. Oddly enough, Tony Soprano does worst things, literally has blood on his hands. But the life he leads give him panic attacks. He needs to see a psychiatrist to cope with his anxiety. I care about whether Tony will live or die, and still feel frustrated by the way the series ended. Was Tony dead or alive when the screen went to black?

Ray Liotta's portrayal of real-life mob soldier, Henry Hill, in Goodfellas is another riveting depiction of an incredibly violent man. But Liotta's voiceover narration is engaging. Liotta's Hill is unrepentant and jaunty. He normalizes the violence that he and the other mobsters engage in. He draws us into the subculture, makes us complicit as we root for him because he seems less vicious than other members of his crime family. 

Thinking about these two gangsters and the others in the films and the television series I've watched has been useful as I plotted my 1939 historical thriller. I have a character who is a bad guy. He cheats, he lies, he kills. But the deeper I go into his motivation, the more I understand his "why." The more I try to step into his shoes, the better I am able to understand why he is who he is. This makes my feelings about him more ambivalent. I want to be on the side of my protagonist, but I find my bad guy more complex. I need to restore balance between the two.

At any rate, Douglas's post has given me more to think about as I work on my bad guy's back story. I'll ponder the matter after I've enjoyed my Christmas dinner with friends. Speaking of food, that reminds me of the Liotta's detailed description of the meal he was preparing in between the errands he had to do to prepare his female drug courier for a flight she was scheduled to make. . . .

Happy Holidays, everyone!  I'll check in with you again in the new year. Wishing us all less stress and more joy.