Tagarchief: Gangster Films

The Godfather (1972)

Posted on by Jeppe Kleijngeld


‘An offer you can’t refuse’

Directed by:
Francis Ford Coppola

Written by:
Mario Puzo (novel / screenplay)
Francis Ford Coppola (screenplay)

Cast:
Marlon Brando (Don Vito Corleone), Al Pacino (Michael Corleone), James Caan (Santino ‘Sonny’ Corleone), Richard Castellano (Peter Clemenza), Robert Duvall (Tom Hagen), Sterling Hayden (Capt. McCluskey), John Marley (Jack Woltz), Richard Conte (Don Emilio Barzini), Al Lettieri (Virgil ‘The Turk’ Sollozzo), Diane Keaton (Kay Adams)

When discussing gangster films, The Godfather is the one movie that is always part of the conversation. Often hailed as the greatest gangster film of all time, it frequently tops high-profile lists as the best movie ever made, transcending genres entirely.

A myriad of elements contribute to its enduring appeal: the impeccable casting, masterful performances, meticulous production design, breathtaking cinematography, inspired direction, and Nino Rota’s iconic score. However, one element elevates The Godfather above its peers: the family theme. Director Francis Ford Coppola, drawing from his own Italian-American heritage, imbues the narrative with a deeply relatable exploration of family dynamics. This personal touch makes the story resonate universally, beyond the crime genre.

At its heart, The Godfather tells the story of the Corleone crime family at its zenith and the challenges it faces. Aging patriarch Don Vito Corleone (Marlon Brando) grapples with two critical dilemmas: selecting a successor to lead the family after his death and navigating the changing criminal landscape of post-war America. The rise of the narcotics trade brings new threats, and his resistance to adapt creates powerful enemies.

Ironically, neither Paramount Pictures nor Coppola himself anticipated the monumental success of the film. While Coppola had achieved some recognition for his work on Patton (winning an Academy Award for the screenplay), he was not yet an established auteur. Meanwhile, Mario Puzo’s source novel, though popular, was dismissed by some as pulp fiction. The production was fraught with difficulties, most notably in casting. Paramount was resistant to casting Marlon Brando, then considered a liability, and the studio balked at Coppola’s insistence on the relatively unknown Al Pacino for the pivotal role of Michael Corleone. These decisions nearly cost Coppola his job. Looking back, it’s impossible to imagine anyone else embodying these roles.

Despite the hurdles, Coppola and Paramount struck cinematic gold. The Godfather became not just a groundbreaking box-office sensation but an instant classic, revered by critics and audiences alike. Every aspect of the film is masterfully executed: the authentic recreation of the late 1940s and early 1950s, the technical precision, Rota’s hauntingly beautiful score, and, above all, the performances.

The acting remains a standout triumph. Brando’s monumental portrayal of Don Vito earned him a well-deserved Oscar, but the supporting cast is equally remarkable. James Caan is explosive as the hot-headed Sonny Corleone, and Al Pacino delivers a career-defining performance as Michael. Pacino’s subtle and chilling transformation from an idealistic college graduate to a ruthless mob boss anchors the film. When Don Vito’s demise shifts the narrative focus to Michael, the transition is seamless, a testament to Pacino’s magnetic presence.

Michael’s arc forms the emotional core of The Godfather. His descent into violence and moral compromise is both tragic and compelling. By the time he exacts his revenge in the film’s climactic sequence, the audience feels both the catharsis of his triumph and the weight of his irrevocable loss. The final moments, where the office doors close on Michael and shut out his wife Kay, encapsulate the story’s tragic brilliance. It’s a devastatingly poignant image of power, isolation, and corruption.

Every frame, every line, and every note of The Godfather exudes cinematic perfection. It’s a film that redefined not only the gangster genre but cinema itself. To speak of The Godfather is to speak of the very essence of filmmaking excellence. It remains, unequivocally, a masterpiece for the ages.

Rating:

Quote:
MICHAEL CORLEONE: “My father is no different than any powerful man, any man with power, like a president or senator.”

Trivia:
Ernest Borgnine, Edward G. Robinson, Orson Welles, Danny Thomas, Richard Conte, Anthony Quinn, and George C. Scott were considered by Paramount Pictures for the role of Don Vito Corleone.

Heat (1995)

Posted on by Jeppe Kleijngeld

Directed by:
Michael Mann

Written by:
Michael Mann

Cast:
Al Pacino (Lt. Vincent Hanna), Robert De Niro (Neil McCauley), Val Kilmer (Chris Shiherlis), Jon Voight (Nate), Tom Sizemore (Michael Cheritto), Diane Venora (Justine Hanna), Amy Brenneman (Eady), Ashley Judd (Charlene Shiherlis), Mykelti Williamson (Sergeant Drucker), Wes Studi (Detective Casals)

Watching Heat recently really made me nostalgic for the nineties. Acting legends Al Pacino and Robert De Niro in the same movie? Those were the days. The supporting cast of Heat is also one to marvel at. But it’s not just the cast that makes it such a great cinematic experience. Heat is like a genius puzzle where every piece fits perfectly.

The starting point seems simple: there’s a good guy, detective Vincent Hanna (Pacino), who tries to catch the bad guy, robber Neil McCauley (De Niro). Both are dedicated professionals—so dedicated, in fact, that they struggle to maintain steady relationships. Hanna’s second marriage is crumbling, while McCauley hesitantly starts dating a woman, keeping her in the dark about his criminal life.

Writer/director Michael Mann based Heat on true crime stories. Neil McCauley, for instance, was inspired by a real person. He leads a crew of professional robbers, but as soon as they deviate from their usual approach, their perfect machine begins to unravel. Hanna is on their trail like a bloodhound. They decide to pull off one final, major heist—with Hanna and his equally professional team hot on their heels.

Yet the story goes much deeper, featuring an impressive array of side characters, each given just the right amount of screen time. In the end, the equation is perfectly balanced, and when the final piece falls into place, it’s a moment of true greatness.

The heart of the story is the relationship between Hanna and McCauley. Though they only meet twice in key scenes – once in the legendary diner scene and again in the tragic airport finale – their bond is palpable throughout.

Scenes from their private lives mirror each other, and whenever they learn something new about one another, they’re notably impressed. These two men respect each other. They’re equals in many ways, yet they’re on opposite sides of the law. Even though McCauley is far more cold-hearted than Hanna, it’s hard to favor one over the other. McCauley is such a professional that you can’t help but root for him.

Beyond the story and acting – both of which deserve a 10/10 – Mann and his crew also made the film look astonishing. The blue-lit Los Angeles feels cold and detached, a perfect backdrop for these characters, all of whom are disconnected from the world in their own way.

The direction is a triumph in itself. Every shot is like a painting, and every scene is meticulously crafted down to the smallest detail. There are a few fantastic set pieces: the two heists in the film are unforgettable, but many other scenes linger in the mind. Heat is touching, smart, cool, and extremely exciting. It’s Mann’s best film, hands down, and one of the greatest L.A. crime epics ever made.

Rating:

Quote:
VINCENT HANNA: “You know, we are sitting here, you and I, like a couple of regular fellas. You do what you do, and I do what I gotta do. And now that we’ve been face to face, if I’m there and I gotta put you away, I won’t like it. But I tell you, if it’s between you and some poor bastard whose wife you’re gonna turn into a widow, brother, you are going down.”

Trivia:
In an interview with Al Pacino on the DVD Special Edition, Pacino reveals that for the scene in the restaurant between Hanna and McCauley, Robert De Niro felt that the scene should not be rehearsed so that the unfamiliarity between the two characters would seem more genuine. Michael Mann agreed, and shot the scene with no practice rehearsals.

State of Grace (1990)

Posted on by Jeppe Kleijngeld


‘The Irish Mob in New York’

Directed by:
Phil Joanou

Written by:
Dennis McIntyre

Cast:
Sean Penn (Terry Noonan), Ed Harris (Frankie Flannery), Gary Oldman (Jackie Flannery), Robin Wright (Kathleen Flannery), John Turturro (Nick), Burgess Meredith (Finn), R.D. Call (Pat Nicholson), Joe Viterelli (Borelli), John C. Reilly (Stevie McGuire), Deirdre O’Connell (Irene)

If you are going to make a movie about Irish hoodlums, this is the way to do it. State of Grace is the Irish GoodFellas and that is a major compliment. Its realism stretches far beyond a pint of Guinness and a few songs by The Pogues. The viewer gets treated to a real sense of what Hell’s Kitchen and its inhabitants are like.

The movie begins with Irish cop Terry Noonan (Sean Penn) returning to his old neighbourhood – Hell’s Kitchen, now named Clinton (!) – to perform an undercover job. His mission is to infiltrate the Irish gang run by Frankie Flannery (Ed Harris) and terminate it before a dangerous alliance is formed with the Italian Mafia. His former best friend, Frankie’s brother Jackie (Gary Oldman), is also a member of the gang. Noonan also rekindles an old flame with Kathleen, sister of the Flannery’s. He is quickly torn between his loyalty to his friends and his official mission.

The story may sound a little cliché, which it is, but State of Grace does have a couple of surprises to offer. What makes the film really work is the striking environment it shows and the flesh and blood characters that live in it. Poverty, crime, drugs and alcohol tore this neighbourhood apart. The misery caused by this is in these characters’ DNA and determines everything they do.

A proper gangster movie usually has a crazy, hot headed, loose cannon character (think Joe Pesci’s Tommy in GoodFellas). In this film, Gary Oldman plays that role. His Jackie is one seriously disturbed – and often funny – wacko. His performance is the best thing about State of Grace, but the other cast members are excellent as well. Robin Wright adds to the heart of the film as a caring young woman who wants to improve things, but can’t – not with these people in her life. Penn is also solid in the lead as the conflicted Noonan and so is Harris as the ice-cold gang boss Frankie Flannery.

The movie ends with a The Wild Bunch-like shoot-out. This might be a bit of an odd choice for ending this particular movie with, but it still works nicely. Director Joanou uses beautiful, slow motion bullet hits mixed with St. Patrick Day parade images to create a terrific and blood boiling sequence. If you are looking for a gangster film that almost matches Scorsese’s finest work, look no further.

Rating:

Quote:
FRANKIE FLANNERY: “If I don’t call you by two o’clock or Pat don’t call you, you come in and tear ‘em apart, the spaghetti still on their spoons.”

Trivia:
The word ‘fuck’ and variation are used 210 times in the film.

The Public Enemy (1931)

Posted on by Jeppe Kleijngeld


All his life he took what he wanted…Why not women?

Directed by:
William A. Wellman

Written by:
Kubec Glasmon
John Bright
Harvey F. Thew

Cast:
James Cagney (Tom Powers), Jean Harlow (Gwen Allen), Edward Woods (Matt Doyle), Joan Blondell (Mamie), Donald Cook (Mike Powers), Leslie Fenton (Nails Nathan), Beryl Mercer (Ma Powers), Robert O’Connor (Paddy Ryan), Murray Kinnell (Putty Nose)

William A. Wellman’s The Public Enemy stands as one of the defining works of early gangster cinema. Released in 1931 – the same year as Little Caesar starring Edward G. Robinson – it helped kick off a gritty, hard-hitting genre that would become a Hollywood staple.

The film opens in industrial America circa 1909, where barrels of bootleg booze roll through the streets and petty crime leads to organized underworld dealings. At the heart of the story are two Irish-American youths who drift into gang life. One of them is Tom Powers, a volatile and ambitious thug played by the electric James Cagney in a star-making performance.

Cagney’s Tom Powers isn’t just another gangster – he’s a smoldering embodiment of the American outlaw spirit, tough, unpredictable, and ultimately doomed. And while the film famously features Cagney’s brutal shooting of a horse (what is it with gangsters and horses?), it’s the iconic grapefruit scene – where he smashes a half grapefruit into Mae Clarke’s face – that has become the movie’s enduring image.

Though Edward G. Robinson’s Little Caesar beat The Public Enemy to theaters by a few months, Wellman’s film surpasses it in terms of visual style and production value. Beautifully shot with a sharp eye for period detail, the direction gives the film a sense of realism and cinematic flair that feels advanced for its time. Interestingly, the film’s lead role was originally assigned to Edward Woods, with Cagney cast as his sidekick. But during rehearsals, Wellman recognized Cagney’s screen presence and wisely switched the roles. The result is one of the most memorable debuts in film history; Cagney utterly commands the screen.

The story charts Tom Powers’ rise through the criminal ranks during Prohibition, chronicling his growing influence and inevitable downfall. Like many gangster films of the era, such as Scarface (1932), The Public Enemy operates as a cautionary tale. While it thrills with its violence and bravado, it ultimately condemns the gangster lifestyle. As Powers’ actions begin to take a toll on those around him, the film steers toward its grim, uncompromising conclusion. Cagney’s final line – “I ain’t so tough” – rings with bitter irony.

The Public Enemy marked the beginning of two major cinematic milestones: the emergence of James Cagney as a major star and the ascendance of the gangster film as a serious Hollywood genre. Nearly a century later, it remains a landmark of American cinema: stylish, shocking, and still relevant.

Rating:

Quote:
PADDY RYAN: “As far as I’m concerned there’s only two kinds of people: Right and wrong. Now, I think you’re right. You’ll find that I am, unless you cross me.”

Trivia:
The scene where Tom shoots the horse that threw and killed Sam ‘Nails’ Nathan in a riding accident was based on an actual incident. In 1924, Sam ‘Nails’ Morton, a member of Dion O’Banion’s gang, was thrown from his horse and killed while riding in Chicago’s Lincoln Park. Other members of the gang, led by Louis ‘Two Gun’ Alteri, kidnapped the horse, took it to the spot where the accident occurred, and shot it dead. Source: Carl Sifakis, ‘Encyclopedia Of American Crime.’