It is fair to say that for more than 35 years, "The Godfather" has occupied a prominent place not just in the cinematic constellation but in our shared cultural milieu. It is perhaps the most re-watched, most quoted and most beloved film of all time. More than any American epic ever produced, it doesn't just draw the viewer in, it sucks him like a vacuum and transports him to a seemingly realistic and thorougly engrossing other-world of power and perverse glamour.
Now, to suggest that watching this epic requires massive doses of
the willing suspension of disbelief might strike some as peculiar if not sacrilegious. But the fact is, a recurring phenomenon strewn throughout the film strains credulity to the point that any viewer who happens to pick up on it may thereafter have a difficult time treating the film with the solemnity that Coppola's gravely earnest direction, not to mention Nino Rota's iconic score, insist on.
The point is best explained by illustrating it. Let's start with what is arguably
the pivotal scene in the film from a plot standpoint. About 35 minutes into the flick, mobster Virgil Sollozzo, "The Turk," presents Don Corleone with a business proposition in the Don's olive oil importing offices. Sollozzo, described by the Don's adopted son and
consigliere Tom Hagen as "a top narcotics man," wants the Corleones to invest $1 million in cash and to provide political influence and legal protection for Sollozzo's drug trafficking business. It was 1945 and drugs were the wave of the underworld future. The Don, accompanied by sons Sonny and Fredo, Tom Hagen and mob lieutenants Clemenza and Tessio, politely declines Sollozzo's proposal because he believes his politician friends would regard drug dealing as a "dirty" business. But Sollozzo makes one more try: "If you're worried about security for your million, the Tattaglias'll guarantee it," referencing a rival crime family. Before Don Corleone can say a word, Sonny, the Don's oldest son and heir-apparent blurts out: "Are you telling me that the Tattaglias guarantee our invest--."
The next several seconds are remarkable. The camera cuts to closeups of the faces of Clemenza, Hagen and Sollozzo. Their looks unmistakeably signal a realization that Sonny has just made a tremendous, perhaps fatal, mobster
faux pas. Don Corleone arguably makes matters worse by drawing attention to Sonny's error. He angrily silences his son and proceeds to tell Sollozzo that he's "spoiled" his children by allowing them to "talk when they should listen." The Don makes it clear that his "no is final," cordially wishes Sollozzo well, and shows him out. The Don holds Sonny back to reprimand him some more: "Never tell anybody outside the Family what you're thinking again."
Of course, it's too late. Sonny's
faux pas sets up everything that follows, in this film and in two sequels. Sollozzo tries to kill Don Corleone because he knows that his heir is predisposed to do business with him while the Don is not. The attempt on Don Corleone's life leads to Michael killing Sollozzo, not to mention an all-out gang war that claims Sonny's life and eventually leads to the elimination of all the Corleone family rivals and betrayers in the film's celebrated blood-bath finale.
The fact that a few words off the top of Sonny's head led to all that is not the remarkable thing about the scene. The remarkable thing is that the mobsters in the room (except for Sonny) somehow -- dare I say incredibly? -- realized the import of Sonny's goof the moment it occurred. It is fair to say that most people watching don't bother to ask themselves why the mobsters should have had such omniscience, and in fact, by any reasonable measure, there's no reason that they should have. No one, after all, is
that perceptive. Perhaps Coppola made the mobsters react as they did to herald the upcoming conflict for us, the audience?
Maybe. But as fans of the film
should know but probably don't because Coppola has them so thoroughly diverted, these mobsters possess an almost infinite awareness about
all sorts of conveniently useful information, from human nature to Almanac facts -- knowledge that extends far beyond what ordinary men of their background -- hell, far beyond what men, or women, of
any background -- possess. Aside from Tom Hagen and Michael, it is difficult to imagine any of these men graduating from high school let alone attending college, yet
they know everything. It is safe to say that this is the most astute, most omniscient collection of human beings ever assembled anywhere in the world.
Take another, less subtle, example. After the Don is gunned down, Sollozzo wants a one-on-one meeting with Michael to patch things up. The Corleones decide this would be the perfect occasion for Michael to kill Sollozzo, so they decide to plant a gun at the site of the meeting ahead of time. They find out the secret location for the meeting is Louis' Restaurant in the Bronx. Well,
mirabile dictu, Tessio knows all about the place, down to the toilet in the restroom. No kidding. Tessio explains that it's "a small family place, good food. Everyone minds his own business. . . . they got an old-fashion toilet. You know, the box-and-the-chain thing. We might be able to tape a gun behind it." Tessio sounds less like a thug than a restaurant critic with a toilet fetish. But of course he's dead-on about the toilet -- the Corleone gang is able to plant the gun there perfectly -- and about the food, as even Sollozzo tells Michael to "try to veal. It's the best in the city."
And let's not forget the most incredible example of this omniscience in this film or, arguably, any film not directed by Cecil B. DeMille. After Don Corleone makes the peace with the heads of the Five Families, he knows that when he dies and Michael takes over the family business, the other families will try to kill Michael. He even knows
how it will happen. He tells Michael: "Barzini will move against you first. He'll set up a meeting with someone that you absolutely trust, guaranteeing your safety. And at that meeting, you'll be assassinated."
Whoa! Which book of the Old Testament did
that come from? If Nostradamus had predicted the future with such clarity and specificity, belief in his psychic abilities would not be confined to the sorts of people convinced that Lyndon Johnson was in on the Kennedy assassination. Of course, the Don's prediction turned out to be on the mark. Shortly after the Don dies, Tessio betrays Michael in precisely the manner the Don predicted. But Michael outfoxes him
and Barzini
and the other Corleone Family rivals because of his father's warning.
In point of fact, the film is replete with instances of this sort of omniscience.
E.g., when Michael sees there is no one guarding his father at the hospital, Michael knows
for a fact that "men are coming to kill" the Don. He was right, of course. Later Michael knows
for a fact that his Italian wife is about to be blown up in her car. He was right about that, too. And Tom Hagen knows without question that "nobody has ever gunned down a New York police captain. Never." We don't even question that assertion or how Tom knows it. And Sonny knows that after Michael kills Sollozzo, he'll need to be exiled to Italy for "at least a year." He, too, was right. And Don Corleone figures out, based on who-knows-what, that Barzini and not Tattaglia was behind the gang war that led to Sonny's death.
Based on their track records, one can only conclude that these mobsters are
bona fide geniuses and that their talents would be far better utilized running the country instead of New York's gangland.
All the while, most viewers are sitting there chomping away on their popcorn, completely sucked in by the story and the glamour of the mob and the high-octane acting and masterful direction, never once thinking, "This is rather silly, isn't it?"
And I hope I didn't ruin it for you.
