On this Columbus Day, we are celebrating the two most famous Italians connected with the United States -- Christopher Columbus and Don Vito Corleone.

Coming hot on the heels of the DVD release of Citizen Kane, The Godfather Collection is the second of the three most-requested releases for the format (the third being the original Star Wars trilogy).  And like Kane, the set is a true collector's edition -- a spectacular achievement in both the cinematic and the home video worlds.  Besides the three films (each containing a full-length audio commentary by Coppola, running over nine hours in all), the set includes a supplementary disc that eclipses all previous incarnations.  Paramount has set a new high-water mark in home video.

The Godfather (Part I) is nearly three hours of pure filmmaking, a stunning and shocking film that realistically and grimly portrays the insidious crime cartel that grew to omnipotent power in the U.S. All of the leads are stupendous in their unforgettable roles, even the supporting players. It is really Pacino's film, although Brando's intermittent appearances were so convincingly played that it won this extraordinary actor his second Oscar (the film also took Academy Awards for Best Picture and Best Screenplay). Pacino himself is marvelous as the college-trained son whose blood is thicker than a crime-free profession. Caan is perfect as the hedonistic, volatile son whose bloody ways end in his own bloodshed. Duvall, the quick-wilted lawyer and adopted son, provides a slick, almost reassuring performance as one of the saner persons in a gun-happy underworld. Keaton, the naive but loving wife gives a good counterbalance to the evil goings-on, but, expectedly, she is the big loser. Hayden as the corrupt cop is a standout, as is the sleazy Lettieri. All the thugs are amazingly believable, Castellano, Vigoda, Rocco (doing Bugsy Siegel), and others providing the murder and mayhem with chilling precision.

Coppola's direction is absolutely brilliant in piecing together a movie of many scenes, divergent and far-flung, yet cohesive scenes that meld a dark, brooding saga that was to earn more than $150 million, one of the all-time box office blockbusters. Not only is the direction and acting flawless in this somber masterpiece but the technical credits are outstanding, particularly the obsessively gripping cinematography by Willis, and Nina Rota's haunting score.

Unlike the hallmark gangster films of the past, Public Enemy (1931), Little Caesar (1930) and White Heat (1949), this film relies on no proven formula but tells its story in visual vignettes strung together by Brando's almost mythic presence, the image that holds the movie together as it does his Mafia family. Of course, the Puzo novel is structured on the same principle and incorporates many a gangster myth and reality. Who is the real godfather upon which this crime epic is based? Carlo Gambino probably, with a little Willie Moretti and a little Lucky Luciano thrown in. It really doesn't matter except that the film unrealistically elevates the 1940s Mafia to a position of power it was not to attain until the 1970s. Its callous philosophy of killing anyone opposing it as "just business" is, of course, the rationale for the Mafia's continued existence. The real Mafia leaders of the U.S. enjoyed the glamour, the prestige, and the everlasting film image accorded to it. In fact, at the Chicago premier, a host of Mafia-syndicate figures showed up in a seemingly endless line of limousines to view the film and applaud its primitive contentions. No longer was the message from the screen that crime did not pay; it was now clear that it paid very well indeed. Brando himself echoed this somewhat perverse viewpoint when talking to Newsweek later, stating: "In a way the Mafia is the best example of capitalists we have. Don Corleone is just an ordinary business magnate who is trying to do the best he can for the group he represents and for his family."

Brando took only $100,000 and a percentage of the film as payment, which reportedly yielded $16 million. (His part was not assigned to him initially; first producers thought about approaching Edward G. Robinson or even Laurence Olivier, although producer Ruddy and director Coppola wanted Brando all along). Coppola had heard that Brando was difficult to deal with but was surprised with the ease of his performance and his good cooperation during the 35 days the star allowed for the filming of his role (between April 12 and May 28, 1971). Endowed with a $6 million budget, Coppola shot most of the film on location in Hollywood, Las Vegas, and New York, using exteriors in the Bronx, Brooklyn, Manhattan, and in Richmond, New York. The scene where Brando is almost assassinated was shot on dilapidated Mott Street but here Coppola had to set the period by taking down all the TV antennas. Antique cars and costumes of the post WW II era were dredged up from everywhere. Also shown are such NYC institutions as Bellevue Hospital and the New York Eye and Ear Clinic. In addition, Pacino and a second-unit spent two weeks in a small village in Sicily.

Brando's raspy voiced role (later to be mimicked by a host of impersonators) was difficult in one respect for Coppola in that the actor was 47 at the time, much too young for the aging Mafia don. The problem was solved by makeup expert Dick Smith who had accomplished makeup wonders in The Exorcist (1973) and Little Big Man (1970), where he aged Dustin Hoffman to a century. Smith added wrinkles to Brando's skin by applying liquid latex, especially around the eyes and nose. A leathery appearance was also achieved the same way, along with loose flesh, and bags beneath the eyes, and olive skin tones to give him that Mediterranean appearance. A special denture was inserted along his lower jawline that jutted the actor's jaw, gave him a completely different bite, and caused more sag in his cheeks. His cheeks were then stuffed with a gummy substance to affect heavy jowls and it was this device that altered the actor's appearance drastically, giving rise to wild speculations that Brando spent hours stuffing his cheeks with cotton, nose tissue, newspapers.

Author Puzo, who later claimed that he had Brando in mind when developing the Vito Corleone character, sold the film rights to his book for $35,000 while the book was still in galley form and long before it became a bestseller. Paramount gave him the added incentive of paying him $100,000 for writing the screenplay and a reported small percentage of the profits. The studio allowed for only $2 million in the film's original budget and executives wanted a strictly contemporary view shown. Paramount then hired Coppola to direct, although his previous films -- Finian’s Rainbow (1968), You’re a Big Boy Now (1966), and The Rain People (1969) -- were flops. Producer Ruddy was even less established as essentially a television producer. Yet the pair managed to convince Paramount to increase its budget and go bigger with The Godfather, even though its recent Mafia profile, The Brotherhood (1968) with Kirk Douglas, had been a dismal failure.

The words "Mafia" and "Cosa Nosta" caused turmoil among the upstanding Italian communities in the U.S. Even before the film was completed, the Italian-American Civil Rights League raised $600,000 at an enormous rally in Madison Square Garden, this money to be used to halt the production. Part of that movement was Frank Sinatra upon whom the Johnny Fontane character is reportedly based. (Puzo later supported this idea in “The Godfather and Other Confessions,” stating how he met Sinatra in a Hollywood restaurant and how "Sinatra started to shout abuse ... I felt depressed, because I thought Sinatra hated the book and believed that I had attacked him personally in the character of Johnny Fontane.") Others felt the same way. Vic Damone accepted the Fontanne role but then walked out on the film, not from the reported outside pressure, but according to his own statement because it "was not in the best image of Italian-Americans." Italian-American author Puzo staunchly disagreed. In fact, in an article for the New York Times, Puzo had written: "Do Italians and American-Italians control organized crime in America? The answer must be a reluctant but firm yes." Ten days before The Godfather went into production, Ruddy met with leaders of the Italian-American Civil Rights League and agreed to delete from the screenplay all mention of the words "Mafia" and "Cosa Notra." Prior to this meeting Paramount had reportedly received a deluge of mail that threatened union walkouts during the production and even massive countrywide boycotts of the film. Ruddy later announced the results of his meeting, implying that the concern was really about the quality of the film to be produced. He is quoted as saying: "We had to get the word out to the Italian-American community in a very bona fide way that we had no intention of doing a schlock exploitation gangster film." That The Godfather certainly was not. A mind-scaring chronicle of violence and bloodletting it is, one where the most powerful medium on earth all but excused the Mafia's existence on the grounds that, like Everest, "it's there," and it must therefore be profiled in dramatic exploration. A cure for cancer will certainly be discovered long before the public recognizes the reasons for its deep attraction to this film and its equally absorbing sequels. The Godfather films touch upon something perpetually dark in the human character, a fearfully widening black hole into which humanity vanishes and reason itself cannot exist.

The Godfather Part II proved to be unusual in that it is actually better than the original with dynamic and gripping performances by Pacino and De Niro as the younger and older dons. Here we have two simultaneous story lines, separated by a generation -- the young Vito, in flashback as he grows and takes power in a prequel to the first Godfather, and Michael, as he attempts to consolidate and strengthen his own power.  The two storylines comment on each other in fascinating and often-unexpected ways, becoming a fugue in the same manner (and with much the same epic feel) as D.W. Griffith's Intolerance.  The flashback sequences are superbly portrayed in period, achieved cinemagraphicaily by Willis who applied a tint to the turn-of-the-century scenes, giving that faded era a softer, richer look than the sharp image of the contemporary story. De Niro's amazing essaying of Vito Corleone, done in Italian with subtitles to achieve more authenticity, won a deserved Oscar. Academy Awards were also gleaned for Best Picture, Direction, Screenplay, Art Direction, and Musical Score. Strasberg, in a role that profiles crime syndicate treasurer Meyer Lansky, provided a cold-blooded look at the blood-and-money philosophy of Michael's brutal world, gloating with lip-smacking relish over the success of the crime cartel's operations with the line "we're bigger than U.S. Steel."

Coppola had a free hand with this sequel and his deft directorial touches are everywhere, particularly in his fine feel for the historical sequences with the fascinating De Niro, an epic portrayal of crime in the new land, which was later emulated to the hilt in Sergio Leone's visually stunning but poorly scripted Once Upon A Time In America (1984). The Godfather Part II took in more than $30 million at the box office, against its original budget of about $12 million. More millions were added in 1977 when a media event occurred; at that time TV aired both Godfather and The Godfather Part II, including out-takes.  This extended feature was later released on laserdisc.

Film Synopsis: On the surface, the rise and fall of the Corleone family, from Sicily in the early 1900s to the current-day U.S.  In subtext, no less than the history of America as seen through the eyes of immigrants.

Technical

Video:	Widescreen 1.78:1 (Anamorphic)
Audio:	ENGLISH: Dolby Digital 5.1 [CC] FRENCH: 2.0 Monaural
Subtitles:	English, Closed Captions

The three films are all letterboxed at about 1.78:1.  The films were originally lensed at 1.66:1, with Coppola intending them to be matted for projection at 1.85:1; the new framing opens up a little at the top and bottom of the original projected image.  The composition feels right, however, and given the director's extensive involvement with the set we assume that the image is what Coppola intends.  There is also a touch more image on the sides than appeared on the previous widescreen laserdisc releases.

A note about the home video release history of the films is in order.  1990 brought the first laserdisc release of The Godfather, and the following year Part II.  Both releases were fairly terrible, with muddy colors, dirty images and the original mono sound.  The following year brought the TV miniseries The Godfather Saga, which ordered parts one and two chronologically and added an additional 45 minutes of footage.  In 1992, with the release of Part III, the first two in the trilogy were remastered (still in mono, but at least with a digital track) and slightly better-looking visuals.  The three films were then put out in a boxed set called The Godfather Collector's Edition, which also included a 9-minute documentary The Godfather Family: A Look Inside.  Finally, the seven-disc Godfather Trilogy was released on laserdisc amid great fanfare, which consisted of the TV miniseries, the Part III home video version, and The Godfather Family documentary.  Sound for this release was reprocessed into stereo.

The new DVD release is such a quantum leap above the previous laserdisc releases that it it like watching the films for the first time. 

The first film's image is the worst of the three, but it is still cleaner and crisper than previous video releases.  Since the transfer was made from a different source than the laserdisc releases, the occasional blemishes (which are seen on both formats) appear to be part of the original negative; digital removal was neither warranted nor preferable.  Although the tonal palette is somewhat muted for all three films, colors on Part I appear a little closer to saturation, though whether that is the fault of the transfer or the original negative we cannot say.

The second film is less grainy, and colors appear true (when they are meant to, that is).  The Vito scenes are filmed with soft-focus filters and in tend towards an ochre tint, but are always clear, and as a result the change in filmic style acts only on mood and does not draw you out of the film.  The transfer of Part II suffers somewhat from an overzealous application of edge-enhancement, and the resultant halos are occasionally noticeable in the modern-day scenes (which tend to have sharper edges and higher contrast).

Part III, being 16-18 years more recent, has the freshest look of the collection, but we expect no few voices to complain about the amount of grain that is visible.  It is grainy, but not distractingly so, and is present on the original negative; it's perhaps a measure of how well the film was transferred that it is more noticeable now than in the past due to the increased resolution of the format.

All three films have been given a new English Dolby Digital 5.1 Surround soundtrack, which is far cleaner and dimensional than on previous offerings of the films.  There are rear-channel effects (particularly during party sequences), but they add to the atmosphere, rather than distract from it.

Known Easter eggs:

• Supplementary Disk: Galleries / DVD Credits.  Click on the "Next" option several times; the last click will reveal a second-season Sopranos-based joke.
   
• Setup / Languages / English or French.  A blue globe will appear on the right; selecting that will start a two-minute collection of scenes overdubbed in other languages.

The packaging consists of four separate cardboard-foldout Digipaks (the Part II holder is a double), with photos of the three Dons on the front (four, if you count Coppola on the cover of the supplementary disc); inside is a basic chapter listing of each disc.  The cardboard slipcase, into which the four Digipaks fit, is printed and textured to appear like leather, dark-brown-to-black matte with the "Godfather" logo in gold on the front and back.  Onto the back of the case is glued a home-video-release one-sheet with the standard promotional information.  The glue is not quite the standard removable material, and although with care the paper can be removed from the case leaving the latter intact, it may be difficult to remove the glue from the paper itself.  If you have this problem, one option is to simply cover the strip of glue with a piece of cellophane tape.  Once removed, the one-sheet fits nicely inside the slipcase.

Supplements

Movie discs:

• Feature-length audio commentary by director Francis Ford Coppola

Supplementary disc:

• Behind the Scenes:

• "A Look Inside" (a 73-minute retrospective)
• "On Location" (a 6-minute tour of NYC film locations)
• "Francis Coppola's Notebook" (10 minutes)
• "Music of The Godfather" (audio only, 10 minutes)
• "Coppola & Puzo on Screenwriting"
• "Gordon Willis on Cinematography" (4 minutes)
• "Storyboards-Part II"
• "Storyboards-Part III"
• "The Godfather Behind the Scenes 1971" (a 9-minute making-of featurette)

• Additional Scenes (34 deleted scenes)
• Galleries:

• Trailer for The Godfather
• Trailer for The Godfather Part II
• Trailer for The Godfather Part III
• Clips from the Academy Awards
• Acclaim and Response
• Francis Ford Coppola's introduction to the 1974 network-TV airing of The Godfather
• Photo gallery
• Rogue's gallery

• Filmographies
• The Corleone family tree

The made-for-laserdisc The Godfather Family: A Look Inside has been updated somewhat and now appears on the supplementary disc, as does the forty-five minutes of footage that were added for the TV miniseries The Godfather Saga (these can be found amid the additional scenes).

The audio commentaries on the feature film discs are superb.  Coppola goes into more detail about the films than has ever been collected in one place, and brings behind-the-scenes information to every scene as it unfolds.  In Part I he discusses in great detail the battles he fought with Paramount and others in order to bring the story to the screen, including decisions and actions of the sort that we have come to expect from the likes of James Cameron, but don't associate with Coppola.  Part II's commentary is slightly more sparse, due to a combination of factors -- the longer length of the film, and the fact that with the success of the original Coppola had fewer battles to fight this time around.  The talk for Part III is, in a way, more interesting that for the previous two films -- but it is from a psychological standpoint, as Coppola defends his film against the critical drubbing it engendered in the press.  The talk is not as repeatable as those for the first two films, but stands as a testament to Coppola's vision (or self-delusion, you decide).