On
The Godfather
by
Craig
Russell
"To
live outside the law, you must be honest."
~
Bob Dylan
The
upcoming Academy Awards this weekend reminds me that thirty years
ago this month, The
Godfather won the Academy Award for Best Picture of 1972.
It also won Oscars for Marlon Brando as Best Actor (famously and
memorably refused by him) and for Best Screenplay. In addition,
it received seven other nominations, including three best supporting
actor nods to James Caan, Robert Duvall, and Al Pacino.
In
the decades that have passed, many of the other films that received
nominations that year – Pete
and Tillie, Travels
with My Aunt, The
Emigrants – have for the most part passed from popular consciousness.
But The Godfather remains as alive and vibrant as it was
upon its release in March of 1972, and the statement "I’ll
make him an offer he can’t refuse" still reverberates with
instant recognition. Why has this film endured? Perhaps because
its hero, Vito Corleone, was a man of morals, principle, and courage
in a world sorely lacking in either – a man who stands throughout
the film in stark contrast to the State.
Vito
Corleone – his first name means "life," or "alive,"
and his last means "lionhearted" – is in every way his
own man. The logo that you see as the film opens incorporates a
hand holding the strings of a marionette. As he says to his son
Michael late in the film, "I refused to be a fool dancing on
a string held by all those big shots." And he has made his
life providing people with things that the State – "those big
shots" – has denied the people, among them gambling, women
– and justice.
In
the opening scene, Bonasera, a funeral director, explains to Don
Corleone how the men who beat and disfigured his daughter got suspended
sentences: the State has refused him the justice he deserves, and
so he "must go to Don Corleone." And that is what he gets.
He asks initially for Corleone to kill them, but Corleone points
out that "that is not justice. Your daughter is still alive."
Bonasera tries vainly to tempt him with money, but Corleone is above
that. His only price for supplying justice is friendship. "Someday,"
he says, "and that day may never come, I'll call upon you to
do a service for me. But until that day accept this justice
as a gift on my daughter's wedding day."
Throughout
the film, in contrast to the morality of the Don, we see the corruption
of the State. In the wedding scene, very early in the film, we begin
to see the relationship between the Don and the State when Tom Hagen
tells him that a senator and "some of the judges" had
called to apologize for not being there, but that "they’ve
all sent gifts." This is clarified a little later when Sollozzo,
who wants the Don to finance his nascent drug business, tells him
"I need a man who has powerful friends…. I need, Don Corleone,
those politicians that you carry in your pocket like so many nickels
and dimes." They’re for sale, and the Don has purchased them.
Later, when the Don is laying in the hospital after an attempt on
his life, it’s a New York City police chief, on another family’s
payroll, who takes the guards away to make it easier for a second
attempt (foiled by Michael, whose jaw is promptly broken by the
chief who has his men hold him in place while he hits him). And
late in the film, the film speaks very specifically about the State
when Michael and Kay have their first conversation upon his return
to America. Michael says that his father is "no different than
any other powerful man, any man who's responsible for other people,
like a senator or a president."
"You
know how naďve you sound?" says Kay. "Senators and presidents
don't have men killed."
To
which Michael replies: "Oh? Who's being naïve, Kay?"
Unlike
the State, the Don is not corrupt – violent, yes, but not corrupt.
While he buys politicians, he himself cannot be bought. Our indoctrination,
however, tells us that, since he uses violence, he is therefore
an evil man. But he is not. He’s just a man who has refused to yield
to the State, among other things, its desired monopoly on violence,
which is the cornerstone of the State’s power. And he uses this
violence with restraint. Yes, he persuaded the bandleader who had
signed his godson to a personal services contract to release him
by making him "an offer he couldn’t refuse" by threatening
his life: "He assured him that either his brains or his signature
would be on that contract." But don’t forget that he had been
there the day before offering ten times the money that he later
did, and the bandleader unreasonably refused. The same thing happens
with the movie director. The Don first offers friendship and to
do him some specific services, but the director refuses reason,
and wakes up with a horse’s head in his bed. What’s the difference
between what the Don does in these instances and what the State
would do if these men had been sued in court, except that the Don’s
approach is more direct and more honest?
The
Don is the most principled man in the film. He refuses to do "murder
for money" in Bonasera’s case, because that would not be justice,
and he refuses to participate in Sollozzo’s drug business, because
that would not be right. As he tells Sollozzo:
I
must say no to you, and I'll give you my reasons. It's true I
have a lot of friends in politics, but they wouldn't be friendly
very long if they knew my business was drugs instead of gambling,
which they view as a harmless vice. But drugs is a dirty business.
It doesn't make any difference to me what a man does for a living,
understand. But your business is a little dangerous.
It
makes no difference to him how much money he stands to make on the
deal, in this case, says Sollozzo, "in the first year, your
end should be three, four million dollars, and then it would go
up." Not only does he refuse the deal on (dare I say it?) moral
grounds, he does it knowing that he could be risking his life. For
Vito Corleone, his family, his friends, and his integrity are far
more important than mere money.
This,
then, is why The Godfather endures: its main character is
a true man, strong enough, brave enough, and principled enough to
stand up to and defy the power of the State. He is, in short, the
kind of man we all wish to be. Unlike so many today, Vito Corleone
is truly Alive, and truly Lionhearted.
March
19, 2003
Craig
Russell [send him mail]
lives in upstate New York.
Copyright
© 2003 LewRockwell.com
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