My Favorite Al Pacino Performance: Part II

This post will focus on the supporting roles of Al Pacino in DICK TRACY, DONNIE BRASCO, and THE INSIDER. WARNING: SPOILERS. Click here to read Part I.

After a series of dramatic roles in his career (with the exception of the lackluster Author! Author!), Pacino nailed his comedic supporting performance as the villainous crime boss, Big Boy Caprice, in Warren Beatty's comic strip-based detective adventure, Dick Tracy. Dick Tracy may not be a perfect comic book movie or even a great one, but it is undeniably entertaining and fun. Not only is the film supported by a grade-A cast, it also has a couple of wonderful Stephen Sondheim tunes to go with it. The look of the film is a delight; the art direction doesn't live in the realms of reality, but instead it rips out its ideas from a 1930s funny paper section. Although Pacino's version of Big Boy doesn't bear any resemblance to the original Big Boy in the comic strips, he wildly grabs the essence of what a goofy but threatening villain should be like.

As Big Boy, Pacino doesn't just chew up every scene--he swallows it whole. The character is more cartoon than human, but Pacino is so alive and energetic that Big Boy becomes more a true villainous being as the film progresses. Aside from the silly lines and mannerisms, Pacino is able to transform Big Boy into a dangerous threat to the film's detective hero. Big Boy is ruthless when it comes to getting what he wants and when he wants it. There are moments where the script creates some lighthearted lines for Big Boy to deliver and those scenes could have been done awfully wrong. Instead of making Big Boy into some clownish caricature (like just being the guy who gets to spank Madonna's Breathless), Pacino delivers his lines and showcases his movements with the right amount of aggressive prerogative and boiling viciousness so that the audience will still able to take this minor Hitler-lookalike seriously.

When Big Boy does something horrible, he just lets it slide off his shoulder. There is no dramatic fuss or guilt. This is what being a truly wicked villain is all about in a PG-rated affair. Pacino lets Big Boy to be likable, but only to an extent. Of course, we can still laugh at the jokes, but there is something inside the moviegoer that just wants the villain to be defeated and Pacino clearly understands that aspect of the audience, so he finds a balance between the funny, entertaining villain and the hideously emotionless murderer.

Ever since The Godfather, Pacino sky-rocketed into a legend in the cinematic crime business. It is a genre where veteran actors like Pacino can star with a polished persona; a persona that just seems so perfect for the general atmosphere of the film because it has already been perfected in other movies. Pacino carries a gun again in Donnie Brasco as Lefty Ruggiero, a small-time hitman who constantly feels disappointment in the state of his lifestyle. The film takes place in the seventies and a man like Lefty has lived the crime life for a while now. Lefty has killed many men, but life in the mafia seems gradually less worthwhile as time goes by. To compensate for his failures and regrets, he takes Donnie (who is actually Joseph Pistone, an undercover FBI agent) under his wing in hopes of seeing Donnie succeed in the mafia where he has not.

Pacino's performance in Donnie Brasco is similar to his performance in The Godfather: Part III, but unlike Andy Garcia, Johnny Depp dominates the screen as much as Pacino does. There is a convincing brightness about Depp's Donnie that Garcia failed to capture as Vincent Mancini. Pacino and Depp work as a duo in this film, rather than the film being entirely an one-man show. Director Mike Newell follows Depp's FBI agent with dedication and concern, but it never forgets to remind us that Lefty is an integral part to the hero's success. Nothing is ever black or white as we see Donnie gradually develop a deep sense of appreciation for his mentor.

Near the end of the film, there is a scene where Lefty is basically walking toward a death trap. Although the film isn't clear about the fate of Lefty, we know that Lefty is leaving himself for the sharks. (In real life, Lefty was locked up in prison and later released when he was dying from cancer.) But the audience saw it coming all along, ever since the moment he formed a friendship with a FBI agent who was seemingly disguised as a young, ambitious wiseguy. But in that particular scene where Lefty is leaving everything behind sums up why an actor like Pacino can continuously play the role of the guy with the gun: He knows how it's properly done. There are moments in many of his films where Pacino escapes the authoritative persona and finally let the human qualities sink in.

The Insider has all the winning qualities of an investigative drama: It is honest, fearless, and inspiring. In the spirit of movies like All the President's Men and JFK, director Michael Mann's film is sleek and professional and should have easily won the Best Picture Oscar over the blatantly shallow American Beauty (and any of the other films nominated in the category that year). Of course, it would be a lie for me to say that Russell Crowe's Jeffrey Wingand isn't the basis of the film, but Pacino's Lowell Bergman is the guy who grabs hold of every single detail and never lets go. This time around, Pacino plays the good guy and all he wants is the right to expose the truth.

Like Roger Ebert said, Pacino's Bergman is "Woodward and Bernstein rolled into one." Bergman has a hot story with a solid interview to go along with it, but CBS network refuses to run it on television's "60 Minutes." It is too controversial, too risky. What is contained in the interview are secrets of the tobacco industry, secrets the top tobacco execs want to leave in the dark. Because of his time at the lab, Wingand poses as a threat to Big Tobacco because he knows that the tobacco industry is making cigarettes more addictive, despite the well-known health hazards. If CBS decide to run it, they face a multi-million dollar lawsuit that might cripple the network.

As Wingand's disintegrating marriage and lifestyle is played out on-screen, Bergman works at the sidelines to reveal the truth, however threatening or dangerous. Bergman is the kind of man you respect, mainly because he has a steady job and family, but also because he can never keep his nose out of his work. Works is life and life is work for people like Bergman. There is a desperation about Pacino's Bergman--a kind of harrowing, unbelievable workaholic quality. Bergman is mainly the behind-the-scenes hero, exactly the kind of television producer to prompt an average guy like Wingand to the levels of reverence and prominence.

My Favorite Al Pacino Performances: Part I

In honor of Al Pacino's birthday (the living legend turned 68 today), I have written a rant about my two favorite Pacino characters: Michael Corleone from THE GODFATHER TRILOGY and Lt. Col. Frank Slade from SCENT OF A WOMAN. Conventional choices, I know, but I love these performances to pieces. I can literally go on forever regarding my undying love for Pacino's performances in these films. (WARNING: SPOILERS AHEAD)

I was eleven-years-old. My favorite movie was Rain Man. Still, I had very little interest in old movies in general. I guess it was more of the fact that I was rarely exposed to old movies rather than my own reluctance to discover them. But The Godfather changed all that.

I didn't expect to like The Godfather at all. I didn't care for crime movies, old movies, or long movies. But I was bored and it was the only thing on TV. My idea of The Godfather for the longest time was that it was a movie about an old guy who ran some crime organization and kills bunch of people before the movie's end. But what kept me watching? Yep, you've guessed it: Al Pacino.

Michael Corleone probably has one of the best introductions in a film...ever? In the beginning, he is clearly shown as the typical outsider of his father's crime empire, being a decorated American soldier and all. But he's smart and knows what goes on in the mafia, which he wants no part in. The guy is so reluctant to obey the traditions of his Italian family that he even daringly brings along his WASP-y girlfriend, Kay Adams (I swear, it's so weird seeing Diane Keaton in that role), to his sister's wedding. He chillingly tells his naive girlfriend, "Luca Brasi held a gun to his head and my father assured him that either his brains, or his signature, would be on the contract. That's a true story. That's my family, Kay, it's not me." Despite Michael's enmity towards the crime world, he respects his father, the all-powerful don.

Everything changes when Michael's family descends into great danger because of a local New York mafia. Michael's transformation from the civilian to another mafia criminal is amazing to behold and again, it's all thanks to Pacino's stunning portrayal of the character.

Originally, the studios considered Dustin Hoffman, Robert Redford, or Jack Nicholson--all rising stars of the late sixties and early seventies at the time. Unlike director Francis Ford Coppola, the studios saw little talent in Pacino. There is one particular scene that convinced the studios that Pacino was the perfect choice for Michael Corleone. It is, of course, the mesmerizing, perfectly-directed restaurant scene. Pacino completely dominated that scene by saying little and acting more. As he obediently listens to the man he has agreed to kill, his eyes wander with great intensity. The tentative train noises in the background gradually increase the dramatic tensions in the scene. Suddenly, Michael excuses himself to the restroom to obtain the gun that had been hidden there earlier. He comes back abruptly and ruthlessly kills the man with a couple of gunshots. As he journeys toward the restaurant's exit, Michael knows he has officially sealed his fate. He just became a part of the family, and there was no turning back.

I was completely surprised when Michael decided that he had to kill Sollozzo. It was obvious that his reverence for his father motivated him, but I was still in shock when he made his decision. But Pacino's performance made me believe that all of this was part of his destiny. This was important to him. Everything he denied so far in his life was what he was truly meant to be. Pacino's performance fulfilled every void that Mario Puzo's novel (that I later read) didn't bother to develop.

How Joel Grey won the Best Supporting Actor Oscar that year for Cabaret for a minor role, I will never know. But everyone knows that Pacino was definitely the more deserving of the bunch and it will be forever devastating to me that he lost to such an inferior performance.

In short, I became a total Godfather freak after my viewing of the first film.

I can't even start to describe my adoration for The Godfather: Part II. It was my favorite movie for the longest time. To me, it was cinematic perfection. I watched that 3hr+ movie five times in the same week. I thought it was that amazing. Why? Again, I couldn't keep my eyes off of Pacino's performance. As much as I loved him in the original Godfather film, there was something about the cold-hearted, emotionless young don that I found brilliantly heartbreaking. No other film at the time had made me feel that way.

There are so many scenes in The Godfather: Part II that I can name that could support the insane level of awesomeness in Pacino's performance, but I'll name one:

"There are many things my father taught me here in this room. He taught me: keep your friends close, but your enemies closer."

Yes, how corny. I chose a scene with a classic movie quote. But if you watched the scene, you would see that he scared the daylights out of Frank Pentangeli (Michael V. Gazzo) and would scare the crap out of you too. Pacino's Michael exhibits his frustrations with amazing reserve and coolness. What makes every moment of the performance worthwhile is that Pacino never bothers to add more clutter than necessary.

I guess he saved the clutter for later. Sixteen years later, actually, for The Godfather: Part III. And how appropriately so! Sure, I am saying this as a die-hard Godfather fan and ignoring the inconsistency in Michael's character in the third film, but it all works because of Pacino's spectacularly over-the-top performance. Oh, and did I mention I absolutely loved every minute of it?

Forget Sofia Coppola's laughable presence--Pacino makes up for all of the film's many faults. Don't get me wrong, though. I love The Godfather: Part III. Not only for Pacino's performance, but the whole damn thing. Yes, I love it, despite the fact that I acknowledge the movie's moderate financial success is the reason why Mr. Coppola now runs a winery and occasionally makes bad movies like Jack instead of living in shameful bankruptcy. But it seems that Pacino respects the character of Michael Corleone too much to treat the material as pure money-making fluff. So he makes the most of out of the script and the result is well, another great performance from Pacino!

Enough of my empty praise for Pacino in this unbalanced film...what material did the film offer Pacino? Diane Keaton. It's sort of weird to think that Annie Hall is a significant part of The Godfather Trilogy but she is, and she courageously involves herself in a series of wonderfully humorous battles of words with an aging mafia don who can't exactly bring himself to fight back against his ex-wife's honest words. Keaton is remarkable in her own right, which enables her to be on the same page with Pacino, acting-wise. I would love to see them in a film together again, but that seems unlikely. But here, Pacino and Keaton certainly waltz around the script's soap operish elements and they continuously masquerade with grace and conviction.

...and I just adore the hospital scene where they are interacting:

Michael: I feel I'm getting wiser now.
Kay: The sicker you get, the wiser you get, huh?
Michael: When I'm dead, I'm gonna be really smart.

I must admit, there is something really wrong with the movie being intentionally funny...

Don't mistake the third film of the trilogy as some sort of epic romance between two estranged lovers. It is as much a crime movie as the previous two, with the addition of a young man who is eager to join in on all the mafia action (played by Andy Garcia). The film also emphasizes the importance of family, a recurring film in the previous films as well, but this time with a gentler tone. But most of all, The Godfather: Part III is about Michael Corleone's redemption. He despises what his life has become. He wants to come clean, but his soul will not and cannot. The man is a classic example of a tragic figure. Michael's corruption and guilt is where Pacino ultimately finds strength in the midst of chaos. It is also what makes the film itself entirely worthwhile.

It is beyond me why Pacino never received any recognition from the Academy for his work in any of the Godfather films. He was undeniably excellent in each and every one of them and how the Academy failed to see that, I have no idea. But they finally recognized him for his funny and sensationally inspiring performance in Scent of a Woman. In the film, Pacino plays Lt. Col. Frank Slade, a depressed blind man who has lost his sight, but not his demanding personality. For Thanksgiving weekend, he invites Charlie Simms, his prep school babysitter (Chris O'Donnell) to a lavish trip to New York--only to surprise the teenager with a plot to kill himself.

Pacino was given so many great lines to read in this movie and he delivers the words with a sharp, authoritative bang. Here are a few of my favorites:

Frank: Then, I'm going to lie down on my big beautiful bed, and blow my brains out.
Charlie: Did I hear you right, colonel? You said you're going to kill yourself?
Frank: No. I said I'm going to blow my brains out.

This line is delivered with such charm that you could never have guessed that there is a suicide plot going on if you didn't understand English.

"I'm in the dark, here!"

In a dramatic shout fest between Frank and Charlie, Charlie desperately struggles to stop Frank from killing himself. One of Pacino's finest scenes in the film.

"Hoo-ah!"

What a grand line. Pacino says it with spirit and certainty. Nobody could have delivered it better.

Martin Brest's film is both a traditional character study and a classic buddy film. The characters are polar opposites, but they bond under strained circumstances. The boy is having some trouble at his corrupted prep school, the older man is having a personal crisis that lies between life and death. Brest sews the episodic scenes in this film together but he wisely spotlights Pacino. But Pacino never exploits the spotlight, instead he shares it with O'Donnell. They are a good team, but it is Pacino who carries the film from beginning to end. That speech at the prep school near the end of the film is one of the greatest speeches made in film and not even the blatant sentimentality can detract from Pacino's virtuosity.

Part two will focus on my favorite supporting roles of Pacino's career.