This film has stood the test of time. Much less shooting and gore than more modern gangster films but the tension, implied threat, is great. Well worth watching again.
There's little that can be said about this masterpiece that hasn't already been said many times over. It retains it's brilliance after many viewings and it's influence is so widespread, indeed it remains a surprise that director Francis Coppola was reluctant to direct it and the studio did not have high expectations expecting a small gangster film and yet what we got was a genre and era defining film, a saga about a close knit family who we see in all the normalities of their lives except they deal in murder and violence. This is so casually dealt with throughout the narrative that the film feels like melodrama rather than a crime film. When violence is shown it comes suddenly and shockingly although viewed today it's a remarkably restrained film. It's not gratuitous but depicts the violence as cold and businesslike. One of the most graphic killings in a small restaurant is described by the killer as 'business, not personal'. This is also the film that brought Al Pacino forward as a major league star. He's unrivalled here and the narrative is chiefly focused on his character arc from reluctant family member to ruthless crime boss, and he becomes very dark and foreboding in look and attitude. It really amplifies how good he is. Of course he's aided by a brilliantly scripted story, faultless direction and a cast that all perform superbly. Most remember of course Marlon Brando as the titular Godfather, Vito Corleone, the head of a family he dotes over and whose business he controls with cunning and insight. James Caan, too, as the heir apparent and hotheaded eldest son who is clearly doomed and has the bloodiest death. These are aided by Robert Duvall, John Cazale, Richard Conte and many others. But it's the women characters that often get overlooked, possibly with the exception of Diane Keaton', Kay, who is the one who begins to challenge the world she joins. The others are all complicit pretending to not hear or see the violence that provides for them. It's an ensemble piece in many ways and the script joins them together in this tale of organised crime brilliantly. Coppola mixes in the issues of culture, Catholicism and greed that makes them complicit in the vendetta way of family life. The Godfather remains one of the finest motion pictures ever made and it's worthy of rediscovery by modern audiences.
Starts with a wedding, ends with a door closing—and in between, it rewrites the rules of cinema. Everything about this feels mythic but lived-in: the family dynamics, the codes of honour, the sudden bursts of violence followed by long, brooding silences. It’s not just a crime saga—it’s a tragedy disguised as a power play.
Brando is unforgettable, yes, but it’s Pacino who quietly steals the film. Watching Michael shift from reluctant outsider to cold-eyed heir is like watching a soul calcify in real time. The transformation isn’t rushed—it’s inevitable.
Every scene is meticulously composed, from orange peels to whispered threats. But beneath the operatic style is a surprisingly intimate film—about fathers and sons, duty and betrayal, and the cost of saying yes when you should’ve run.
Even after multiple viewings, it still feels fresh. Not because it surprises, but because it understands human nature so well. Loyalty, power, regret—served cold, with cannoli on the side.