The permanence of The Godfather

By Akshay Sawai

Forty two years after its release, The Godfather remains on our radar. The world has changed dramatically since 1972. But The Godfather still shines on our cultural skyscape, an immoveable lodestar which even four decades later tempts and thrills, and even educates. "The Godfather is the I-Ching," the character played by Tom Hanks in You've Got Mail says. He's right.

The most recent development to recall The Godfather was the launch of a book on a man central to the film — Marlon Brando. That a publisher would bring out a book in 2014 on an actor who did little of note after the 70s is a testament to Brando's hold over our imagination. And a lot of his aura came from this film, in which he played Don Vito Corleone, a big teddy bear of a mafia leader who pets a cat while ordering hits and who loses his life not to the bullets of a rival don, but while playing with his grandson in a tomato patch.

The Godfather also came up in the headlines when Keira Knightley, female lead in the recent release Begin Again, spoke of her admiration for the film, especially the character of Michael Corleone, played by Al Pacino. I f irst saw the movie in the early 90s. Doordarshan telecast it over three episodes. But Brando's raspy-voiced mumbles had gone over the head of everyone at home at the time (though we pretended otherwise). But the next time the opportunity came, I was ready. It was in Colombo during a cricket assignment in the year 2000.

I had recently read the novel by Mario Puzo, and hungered to see the film. It aired at 1 am. Despite the inconvenient time, my eyes were riveted to the screen. It was male nirvana. A sea-facing hotel room. Room service. And The Godfather on TV.

Since then, the film has become an obsession. I have seen it multiple times. Once, as part of a newspaper assignment, I requested renowned make-up man Pandhari Jukar to convert me into Don Corleone, complete with a fake moustache and cotton pellets to stuff in the jowl. I have DVDs and literature on the subject, one coffee table book weighing almost as much as Brando.

Brando and Pacino are the two main characters of the film. But like with Sholay, it is also the people with peripheral parts that leave an impression. You cannot imagine the film without the severed horse head scene, for example, and crucial to that shot was John Marley, known only to the most hardcore of movie fans. Some of the other actors with electric cameos were Alex Rocco (Moe Green), Al Lettieri (Solozzo the Turk), Richard Castellano (Clemenza) and Simonetta Stefanneli (Apollonia).

Over the years, stories about the shooting of the movie and the lives of the actors have enriched it for viewers. It seems unbelievable that the film was almost not made, and given only a grudging go-ahead by the studio. Brando too was considered a moody has-been, and the studio bosses were against offering him the part.

Thankfully, for Brando as well as cinema fans, director Francis Ford Coppola's will prevailed.

(Observations on sport, culture or anything from the assorted platter of life)