Coda: “The Death of Michael Corleone” On blu ray disc
Full disclosure: I always liked THE GODFATHER PART III–it is my favorite of the trilogy. Also, I was never against Sofia Coppola’s performance. Yes, there were moments of awkwardness, but I felt it served its purpose more often than not. What I always sought to remind people was that Coppola was a different filmmaker in 1990. Since TGFPII, he had made (among other films) APOCALYPSE NOW, RUMBLE FISH, TUCKER: THE MAN AND HIS DREAM, and–crucially–ONE FROM THE HEART. His aesthetic, as well as his way of making movies, had changed. Technology altered his art.
Serge Daney, the great French critic and one-time editor of Cahiers du Cinema, has a superfb analysis of OFTH where he writes: “Minnelli used to say ‘The world is a stage’, but he would immediately add ‘The stage is a world’. Those were the good old days. Nowadays One from the Heart suggests that ‘The stage is just a stage’. This is logical; Coppola had already filmed the Vietnam war like a series if revue numbers.” (The entire article is available at JSTOR, and well worth reading; I will put the link at the end of my post,. A person can sign up for a free account, and access 100 articles per month).
TGFPII was a last, intense flowering of Classical Hollywood cinema–rich with narrative and psychology. Having achieved such classical cinematic richness, Coppola evolved–developing a revue style where his theatrical sensibility (always present) would be given freer reign. In TGFPIII, for example, there was the swift appearance of orange juice and candy when Michael has a low sugar attack during the confession scene–the necessary props waiting just offstage for their cue. Similarly, during the hospital scene with Kay, Anthony and Mary are in the wings, ready to make their entrance when their mother calls them on stage.
I always appreciated these moments, but they had to co-exist with Coppola’s attempts to make the film align with its predecessors: the survey of the decayed Nevada estate; the flashback to Fredo’s killing during Michael’s papal induction ceremony. If Michael feels that he is being dragged back into a way of life he wants to quit, Coppola was being dragged back into a way of filmmaking he no longer pursued. What CODA represents is Coppola transforming TGFPIII into the film he wanted to make–both narratively and stylistically–but had to compromise in order to fulfill the studio’s mandate for a third film that would expand a diptych into a trilogy. What we have now is a coda to a diptych, and the transformation of a very good film into a great one.
Much has been written already about the changed opening of CODA, and I do not need to repeat it. What has received less attention are the numerous minor changes Coppola made to the fim which improve narrative clarity and momentum. CODA is a less cluttered film than TGFPIII–scenes have a crispness they lacked before, most often achieved by making trims at the beginning and/or end of them. Coppola has often spoken about Eisenstein’s influence on his work, and the power of editing is on magisterial display in CODA.
One of the great beneficiaries of Coppola’s editing is the performance of Sofia Coppola. In the years since TGFPIII premiered, the integration of non-actors with professionals has become accepted film practice, but it was rare in 1990. The trims Coppola has made–for instance, shortening Mary and Michael’s scene on the terrace; removing Vincent and Mary’s glances at each other during Michael’s presentation to Immobiliare shareholders–have excised my qualms about Sofia Coppola’s performance as well. Thinking about this, I wondered if the problem had been less her performance, than the character she played: was there too much Mary in TGFPIII? Don Altobello has his presence reduced as well, but I felt no loss. Eli Wallach’s performance was a tasty slice/slab of actorly prosciutto (and still is in CODA), but less of him did not result in a lessening of the film. To go back to Daney, scenes in CODA are now more revue-like than those of Coppola’s earlier, heavier (novelistic/literary?) style.
Lastly, CODA is now unambiguously Michael’s film, though he has less control of the narrative here than he did in the previous two films. CODA starts with Michael trying to arrange the greatest deal of his life, and chronicles his achievement of it, while, simultaneously undergoing a painful death. At the conclusion of CODA, Michael is completely legitimate and utterly bereft.
If you are interested in more by Serge Daney, a good site is:
