The Godfather (1972) Review: Power Handed Down in the Dark

Is The Godfather worth watching?

Yes. The Godfather is one of the essential films of the twentieth century, a crime epic that plays as intimate family tragedy and as a portrait of how power works in America. Francis Ford Coppola’s adaptation of Mario Puzo’s bestseller has been quoted and parodied so often that it risks feeling familiar before you press play, yet the film itself is richer, stranger and more patient than its reputation. The only real caution is commitment: at 175 minutes, and with a deliberately stately rhythm, it asks for an evening of attention.

What is The Godfather about?

The Godfather opens in New York in the years after the Second World War, at the lavish wedding of Don Vito Corleone’s daughter. Vito (Marlon Brando), the soft-spoken head of a powerful crime family, spends the celebration granting favours in a darkened study while his children dance outside. His youngest son, Michael (Al Pacino), a decorated war veteran, has brought his girlfriend Kay (Diane Keaton) and makes clear that he wants no part of the family business.

That distance does not last. When Vito turns down a proposal to move into the narcotics trade, the decision sets off a struggle between the city’s crime families that pulls Michael towards the life he rejected. James Caan plays the hot-headed eldest son, Sonny, and Robert Duvall the family’s adopted adviser, Tom Hagen.

Coppola directs from a screenplay he wrote with Puzo. It is an American production in English, with passages in Italian, and runs 175 minutes.

Coppola’s darkness is the point

The film’s look is inseparable from its meaning. Gordon Willis’s cinematography keeps the Corleone interiors in deep amber shadow, often leaving eyes unreadable, so that authority seems to live in what the camera cannot quite see. Outside, in the wedding scenes and later in the Sicilian countryside, the light is warm and open. The contrast between those spaces becomes a moral map: family and daylight on one side, business behind closed doors on the other.

Nino Rota’s score, with its mournful waltz and solo trumpet, gives the story an operatic sorrow rather than thriller excitement. Coppola cuts violence in sudden, brutal bursts and surrounds it with long scenes of eating, talking and waiting, so the calm feels threatening. Even the famous early warning delivered to a stubborn Hollywood producer works because the film has spent so long establishing how politely the Corleones prefer to operate.

Brando’s weight, Pacino’s transformation

Brando’s Vito is the film’s most imitated performance: the rasping voice, the heavy jaw, the cat in his lap. What survives the parodies is his gentleness. Vito is tender with his grandchildren and fiercely loyal, and Brando never lets the audience forget that this warmth coexists with murderous authority. It won him the Academy Award for Best Actor, one of the film’s three Oscars alongside Best Picture and Best Adapted Screenplay.

Yet the film belongs to Pacino. Michael begins as the quiet, slightly aloof son at the edge of the frame, and Pacino charts his change with extraordinary economy: fewer words, stiller eyes, a voice that never needs to rise. Caan supplies the volcanic energy Michael lacks, Duvall a lawyer’s calm, and John Cazale, as the overlooked brother Fredo, suggests a lifetime of disappointment in a few scenes.

The limits of a closed world

If there is a criticism to make, it is that the women stand at the edges. Kay, Connie and Mama Corleone are observed more than explored, which is partly the film’s argument about the family’s closed male world and partly a limitation of the source. The Sicilian interlude also slows the momentum, even as it deepens Michael’s story. These are small reservations set against a film whose structure, casting and imagery have barely dated.

Who should watch The Godfather?

Anyone with a serious interest in film should see it, and it is also far more accessible than its classic status suggests: the story is clear, the characters vivid, and the tension steady. Plan for close to three hours without distractions. There are several scenes of sudden, bloody violence, along with strong language and a pervasive atmosphere of menace, so it is best suited to adults and older teenagers.

Where to go next in crime cinema:

• The Godfather Part II, the sequel that widens the saga across two generations and is best watched soon after.
• GoodFellas, Martin Scorsese’s faster, streetier view of mob life from the bottom up.
• Apocalypse Now, Coppola’s next great epic, which pushes his interest in power and corruption into war.

The verdict

The Godfather deserves its reputation. It is a gripping crime story, a family tragedy and a sharp portrait of American power, told with images and performances that still set the standard. Few films repay a first viewing and a tenth with equal force.

Rating: 5/5