Movie Review: "The Godfather" (1972)
Thousands of words (probably millions) from thousands of critics better educated and higher paid than I have been written about Francis Ford Coppola's adaptation of Mario Puzo's brilliant novel. Years from now when the digital real estate this review is written on has long since passed into oblivion and this reviewer is but a memory of a memory in some great great grandchild's mind, people will still be writing about this film.
Coppolla combines beautiful scenery, with a taut (though lengthy) narrative and some of the finest performances of the era to tell the story of a family. A family not that different from any other. They cling to one another in hard times, they celebrate one another's triumphs and they dream of a better life for the next generation.
Of course, Coppola and Puzo's family kills, robs, assaults and bribes to get that better life for their children. That's probably not like your family.
Watching it again last night for the first time in ages, I was reminded of why it's on nearly everyone's "Best Films" list. From the first frame, centered on an undertaker telling his tale of trust in the American way gone wrong, "The Godfather" grabs your attention. Beautiful, horrifying, exciting and at once wholly American and distinctly European in its manner, "The Godfather" is one of the greatest films ever made, and it always will be.
