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‘The Godfather’ at 50
The film’s lines have become part of our collective memory. Seven writers, directors and actors look back at the movie and what these words mean to them.
By The New York Times
When Francis Ford Coppola’s “The Godfather” opened in New York on March 15, 1972, critics immediately understood the mob family drama to be a masterpiece. But they could not have foreseen how some of the dialogue would become part of our collective memory, often turning into catchphrases divorced from the film itself. In honor of the 50th anniversary of “The Godfather,” we asked seven fans — critics, actors, directors — to look back at Don Vito Corleone, sons Sonny and Michael, and henchmen like Clemenza and Tom Hagen, to reflect on key lines.
‘I believe in America.’
(An undertaker asking Don Corleone to get him justice)
“I believe in America.” These four words — spoken in a clipped, lilting rush over a pitch-black screen — are the first thing you hear in “The Godfather” after a short moan of music. The words hover over the imageless screen, demanding your attention and priming you for what’s to come. But they’re inscrutable (what does it mean to believe in a country?), and as they linger in the darkness, Coppola lets your imagination riffle through the possibilities. Is this a pledge, an article of faith, a declaration of intent?
These words inaugurate Coppola’s masterpiece and set the ominous, funereal stage for what will soon come. They also announce one of the most fundamentally American movies made in this country, which loves and condemns — though mostly loves — its violence onscreen and off, and has memorialized its outlaws as folk heroes, enshrined its marauders, erected statues of its slavers and elected its grifters. “The Godfather” is perfect from first frame to last, but its greatness also feels of a different order: It speaks to a truth about the American character that we all can recognize.
Because while we may not all believe in America, we believe in its violence even if we understand it may bury us. It’s no wonder that these words are spoken by an undertaker, the proud, angry Amerigo Bonasera (an unforgettable Salvatore Corsitto). His face is also the first thing you see, and just after he says his killer line, Coppola cuts to a choker close-up of this man. It’s a stunning portrait in chiaroscuro, with Bonasera looking straight into the camera, his pale sculpted face floating in shadow. He looks like a raptor, a skull; he looks like death. — Manohla Dargis, The Times co-chief film critic
‘Leave the gun, take the cannoli.’
(Clemenza to his fellow hit man)
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