The Task: Watch and write about every movie on my shelf, in order (Blu-rays are sorted after DVDs), by June 10, 2015. Remaining movies: 250 Days to go: 254
Movie #127: The Godfather Part III
The Godfather Part III is completely off the rails. Literally everyone has given up at this point. It might as well be a TV movie followup to the first two films, for all the awkward, bizarre laughable melodrama.
Al Pacino has completely lost all the layered nuance of his previous performances of Michael Corleone, instead going full Hoo-ah (two years before Scent of a Woman, when it would apparently merit an Oscar — go figure) and sporting uber-’90s hair.
Nothing, in fact, is even remotely reminiscent of 1979, when the film is supposed to be taking place, save the cars. The fashion and hair of virtually everyone, in fact, is pure 1989 (around when it was filmed). There are no bellbottoms, no wide-legged pants of any kind, and an overabundance of ’80s power shoulder pads. Where are the wide lapels? The thick, striped ties? The shawl collars? Where are the feathered bangs and the bowl cuts and the ill-advised man-perms? (Okay, Diane Keaton is sporting an ill-advised man-perm. Points for that.) Where are the plaid pants? The short shorts? The bold colors? The bare shoulders and tube tops? There’s none of that here. Michael’s daughter Mary (Sofia Coppola) wears almost nothing but little black mini-dresses with black tights and flats — an outfit I’m pretty sure I wore to a junior high dance. And the military button jacket with Blossom hat she wears to visit Vincent’s (Andy Garcia) club is pure Rhythm Nation 1814.
Someone also needs to explain to me why so many people are apparently okay with Vincent screwing his barely legal first cousin, because it strikes me as incredibly creepy that everyone’s so okay and open about it. Mary doesn’t even try to hide it, but I’m pretty sure having a sexual relationship with your uncle’s son is frowned upon, even in close Italian families. Especially in close Italian families.
The whole movie is just weird, and the denouement that mirrors similar final scenes in the two previous films, is far more silly than tense — particularly the deaths of Tweedle-Dum and Tweedle-Dee the Murder Twins. The fate of Mary is also poorly handled, as the puppet show in Sicily foreshadows it with no more subtlety than Coppola’s awkward “seduction” acting. Add in fake Pope plot details and it just adds up to a mess. How this thing got nominated for seven Oscars is beyond me. Thank God it didn’t win any.
I wouldn’t say the Godfather trilogy is my cup of tea, necessarily, but I can clearly see the artistry and sophistication of the first two films. They are great pieces of cinema, undeniably. The Godfather Part III, however, is a useless piece of crap. They should’ve quit while they were ahead.
Viable Option 