1990; directed by Francis Ford Coppola; written by Francis Ford Coppola and Mario Puzo; 163 mins
I actually wanted this to be like the Miami Vice movie or Alien³. I wanted to add my voice to the pro crowd. Sadly, pretty much as soon as it started, The Godfather Part III sounded a bit rubbish. It’s hard to pinpoint but the whole thing just feels a bit flat and disconnected. The new characters, though well played, don’t really fill in the gaps left by that magnificent ensemble and the title star had become a different man by 1990. Coppola and Puzo wanted to call the movie, The Death of Michael Corleone and to distance it from the previous two chapters but Paramount refused. Honestly, it could well have done with being less like its predecessors.
1979. The Corleone fortress has been abandoned and Michael is now based in New York City. Receiving a Papal honour for his charitable donations to the Catholic Church, Michael is guilt-ridden over his bloody consolidation of power, particularly concerning the death of Fredo. To exacerbate things, his criminal past is constantly being brought up as he officially makes the leap to legitimate businessman, taking over majority shares of a real estate company and bailing out the Vatican to the tune of $600,000,000. Into his inner circle comes Sonny’s illegitimate son, Vincent, a short-tempered young guy, feuding with the Corleones’ NYC overseer, Joey Zasa. Unimpressed, Michael still takes Vincent under his wing and tries to stay on the good side of Zasa as he goes legit but hot-headed Vincent only invites trouble.
As all these business worries weigh him down, Michael has to contend with first cousins Vincent and Mary, his daughter, falling in love and an embittered Kay coming back in from the margins with estranged son, Anthony, who refuses to continue the law degree his father has imposed upon him. Nominally, all the stuff you want from a Godfather movie. That mix of dynastic strife, criminality and big business – the intimate and the epic rolling over and crashing up against one another – which worked so well before. So, why does Part III feel so uninvolving?
I think it’s down to the roots of the project. Coppola had refused for many years to do another movie and rightly so but financial straits forced his hand and probably the studio knew they had him in their grasp. There were many setbacks and tensions during the production of Part III but then so were there on the first movie, so I think that’s to be discarded as the chief contributing cause. On Part I, Coppola was hungry, excited and moved by the Corleone story so he managed, just about, to work within the constraints of the project. By the time, he’d finished Part II, he’d told the story he wanted to tell and I suspect, so had everyone else. They were all content with what they’d done and when Part III was going to happen, they were wary and weary. This would not have been helped by Paramount giving Coppola a year to write, shoot and finish the film because a lot of it does not feel fleshed out properly.
Pacino has said he was sceptical and didn’t agree with the direction of Michael’s inner-turmoil. Although, it’s hard to tell what else he’d have done because, post-Scarface, he’s so far removed from his earlier persona that his performance feels like a different character to the Michael of parts I and II. In fact, he just feels like Al Pacino rather than Michael Corleone. Michael, though he raged a bit in Part II, was a much quieter, reserved individual. Late on, when he and Kay reconnect, I didn’t believe it. Quite apart from the fact that, at that moment, he looks like a mouldy teabag, she has absolutely lost the Michael she attended Connie’s wedding with back in ’45. The situation isn’t helped by him telling her she has to understand this and that, when it’s her who’s had to come to terms with everything in their marriage.
Even more bothersome of a relationship is that of Michael and Vincent. Why does Michael let this kid in? He’s disruptive from the start, Michael barely knows him except that he’s not liked or trusted by the family, not even considered part of the family, proper. He defies Michael’s wishes and bites part of Zasa’s ear off when he’s meant to apologise and then Michael takes him on as a close confidante. All the way through, their relationship never convinces. Andy Garcia does a good job of playing him but the character isn’t particularly likeable or charismatic – just another short-tempered gangster wannabe. Michael wants conflict out of his sight at that time, so why bring in this walking danger magnet? The scenes in which Vincent deals with Zasa’s men and the execution of Zasa are well done but otherwise, it’s a dud central relationship.
Most of the new supporting cast don’t make much of an impression (nice cameo from Scorsese’s mum, though) but the ever-reliable Eli Wallach is very good as Mafia go-between, Don Altobello, ably conveying a senior mafiosi, a pleasant older gentleman with a vicious streak. To be absolutely honest, I got a bit confused between a couple of characters. Sofia Coppola as Mary gets a lot of shit but she’s not that bad. Her performance is not helped by some fairly obvious dubbing early on but with the best will in the world, if you’re not the greatest actor, in a cast like this, you’re gonna get shown up. Anyway, Bridget Fonda‘s performance is far more bland, she just had the luxury of being out of the picture early. So, that’s not Sofia’s fault in my opinion. She did her best and anyway, as far as her career went, I think she’s had the last laugh.
If anyone’s bringing the old magic back, it’s cinematographer Gordon Willis. His lighting (or, more precisely, his shadows) are just as fiercely emotional as they were when the Corleones were killing and betraying each other in their heyday. The shot when Michael, lit in gold, sits down into his big office chair and is engulfed by a pool of blackness sums up his headspace so beautifully. I also particularly liked an extreme low-angle shot looking up at a huge cathedral which is dwarfed by an even-more massive skyscraper, which, again, sums up in one shot, so much of what the film and the series is about: religion, power, America and their changing faces.
It’s the extremity of that image which makes me think there were moments when Coppola realised where it should’ve gone. That and the climactic opera house set piece are the best things in the movie. I’m on the fence about the helicopter attack but it almost feels like, in keeping with the original title, a different feel to the movie would’ve helped: operatic and salacious. It would’ve complemented the vastness of Michael’s new empire (and made just how much wonga he apparently has a bit more believable) and made it clearer that this is a different movie to the other two. Making the reception a bit less hostile? Doubtful but with time would’ve perhaps been more favourable, I think. As it is, The Godfather Part III looks like it’s playing catch-up rather than being allowed to be its own thing. Worst of all this is the oranges signifying death which is so overused in this movie. Oranges and orange juice appear at every turn, even when Michael’s feeling a bit peaky, a whole tray of orange juice is offered. It’s gone from neat visual motif to tired in-joke.
The music is kind of emblematic of that also-ran feeling. Carmine Coppola took over from Nino Rota, who had passed away (funnily enough) in 1979 and while it’s not bad, it’s not different enough. There’s a neat use of Jew’s Harps throughout which is later added to the score and maybe that could’ve been a whole new path but sadly, like everything, it’s hemmed in by its predecessors.
“I believe in America” was the very first line of the trilogy. That’s a big line. That’s an intriguing line, delivered by a foreign voice, anticipating big themes and bloody vendettas. Here, we begin with some poorly written voiceover signifying that what we’re about to watch is instantly not as exciting. Two and three quarter hours is a long time to realise something’s not as good as what you experienced before. The Godfather Part III is not a terrible movie. It has good scenes in it, a tense final act which feels close to the work of Visconti and there are interesting threads with the whole Papal corruption subplot but it all feels very undercooked. Had Coppola been afforded time by the studio maybe it could’ve neared the greatness of its forebears but realised its own personality, sitting comfortably outside of them. It’s a shame but at least the preceding two hadn’t left room open for a third so they can be enjoyed as the perfect diptych that they are.
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