The Godfather Epic

Tonight, HBO aired (uncut, commercial free and a staggering 434 minutes long) The Godfather Epic. The Godfather and its first sequel have seen numerous reedits since 1977; this version seems the most comprehensive to date. It makes an interesting curio for Godfather fans, and it's worth examining in detail.
From Big Screen Epic to Small Screen Saga

As far back as 1973, Francis Ford Coppola contemplated merging The Godfather with his upcoming Part II. He wanted the movies to be "two distinct pieces that are formed together to make one story," hence the title: he considered Eisenstein's two-part Ivan the Terrible the model. Paramount rebuffed him then, and in 1974 when NBC proposed The Godfather: A Novel for Television.
Nonetheless, NBC paid $10,000,000 for The Godfather's television premiere in July 1974, spread over two nights. Astronomical ratings justified the cost, and soon NBC revisited the saga idea. Coppola tentatively agreed the following year, but preparation didn't begin until 1976. Coppola, knee-deep in Apocalypse Now, turned responsibilities to editor Barry Malkin, who reworked the two Godfathers (including deleted scenes) into a seven hour cut.
Noting that Part II's flashback structure originated in postproduction, Malkin "took all the early 1900s scenes and put them upfront," restoring Coppola's concept of a chronological family chronicle. "I had compiled a much longer cut than NBC wanted.... But when it was screened it was met with such affirmation that they wanted more." With trims to the films' violence and nudity, and cuts for commercial breaks, it ran to 434 minutes.
Shown over four nights in November 1977, with an introduction by Talia Shire, The Godfather: The Complete Novel for Television (billed in some markets as The Godfather Saga) became a huge success. NBC claimed up to 10,000,000 viewers for this broadcast, though some sources dispute it. Regardless, it cemented The Godfather as a television staple long before AMC, Bravo and Spike TV's existence.
In 1980, it wasn't the Novel but The Complete Epic which found its way onto video, nearly forty minutes shorter; an even shorter version called The Godfather Novella played on television in 1982. USA Network created its own version in 1997, restoring violence cut from previous versions; AMC released a slightly altered cut in 2012. HBO's Epic appears to be a slightly expanded version of same, and it's the cut we'll review.
The Godfather: Tinkering With a MasterpieceAmong its myriad virtues, The Godfather is a model adaptation. Mario Puzo's novel is a dense doorstopper, diluting rich characterizations and Mafia lore with Harold Robbins trashiness. Johnny Fontaine celebrates his newfound stardom with hedonism in Las Vegas; Sonny has a monstrous member; his mistress Lucy gets her monstrous vagina surgically altered by a lecherous obstetrician. Coppola wisely excised this, focusing on the story's tragic core.
The theatrical cut is virtually perfect. Viewers quibble over anachronistic extras and Sonny's punch missing Carlo by a mile, but in dramatic structure, dialogue, characterization and pacing, there's little to dispute. What then could added footage contribute?

Wayward son, disapproving father

The Godfather's added scenes contribute texture, if not depth. There's a nice scene where Vito visits a dying Genco, and chides Michael (still in uniform) for the "miracles you perform for strangers." Another worthwhile scene has Sonny informing Mama Corleone of Vito's shooting, then nervously trying to organize a response. He gnaws on bread and sits in Vito's chair, then catches himself. James Caan is wonderfully nuanced here, markedly different from his violent bombast elsewhere.
The rest are odds and ends, mostly excised bits of the novel. Several scenes establish Jack Woltz, the Hollywood producer, as a pedophile; Michael and Kay fool around in bed. Clemenza complains about his car's wooden suspension and eats dinner while Rocco and Paulie wait. Michael and his bodyguards encounter a Communist procession in Sicily, but nothing's made of it. (Puzo hadn't yet written The Sicilian, where Michael meets Sicilian separatist Salvatore Giuliano.) Other scenes, like Connie's fight with Carlo, run slightly longer.

Missing scene: Michael executes Fabrizio

Other footage remains missing. Michael tracks down his treacherous bodyguard Fabrizio, who's fled to America. Michael blasts Fabrizio repeatedly with a shotgun, leaving him a bloody mess. Coppola shot the scene, but found it absurdly violent and cut it. Nonetheless, publicity stills of a lupara-toting Al Pacino survived. Coppola conceived an alternate death for Fabrizio, killed with a car bomb, for Part II; it too was cut.
Puzo's ending, with Kay (having converted to Catholicism) lighting candles for Michael in a church, was filmed and restored as the Novel's finale, following Part II's modern segments. It's been cut from subsequent versions.


Kay prays for Michael's soul

These scenes have curiosity value but don't enhance The Godfather's quality. That said, unlike George Lucas's Star Wars alterations or Coppola's Apocalypse Now Redux, the additions don't detract either. If nothing else, the lack of oversized genitalia remains a positive.
The Godfather, Part II: Enlarged but UnmendedThe Godfather, Part II's always been my favorite. It's far more ambitious than the original, making concrete the metaphor of organized crime as American capitalism run amok. The interplay of Vito's rise and Michael's downfall has powerful resonance, with father and son's very different personalities altering the Family. Nonetheless, it's also more flawed, with suspect plotting that could benefit from added scenes.
The assassination attempt against Michael leaves unanswered questions. How exactly did Fredo help Hyman Roth? Did he open the drapes (if so, when and why didn't Kay notice earlier)? Who killed the gunmen and why? A second team of assassins? Fredo? Another insider? This uncertainty spawned a fan theory that Michael's henchman Rocco was involved in the hit. There's no textual support for this idea, and it remains a plot hole.

Missing scene: Pentangeli and the Rosatos negotiate

Another murky scene shows Roth's allies, the Rosato Brothers, ambushing Frank Pentangeli during a sit-down, leading to a shootout with police. Later dialog implies Roth deliberately botched the hit, to turn Pentangeli against Michael as an FBI informant. Danny Aiello's famous ad lib, "Michael Corleone says hello!" muddies things further. This seems a little too neat, even for such an intricately-plotted movie, stretching our suspension of disbelief.
Later, Michael's targeted by a Senate investigation. These scenes bother me not for content but abruptness. This storyline comes out of nowhere, then dominates the film's second half. Senator Geary, blackmailed into supporting Michael, contributes little except a speech supporting Italian-Americans; the revelation that Questadt, the Senate counsel, works for Roth matters only for sealing Fredo's fate. If Roth arranged the investigation, why is he fleeing authorities at film's end?


Michael smiles? No wonder Coppola cut this scene

Unfortunately, footage added to the modern storyline clarifies little. Fredo's wife Deanna causing a scene as she arrives, Pentangeli arguing with a waiter and giving Anthony a tip. Diane Keaton gets two nice scenes, trying to shield her son from Michael's advisers. The longest, but least convincing scene has Michael meeting Sonny's daughter and her fiancé. While showing Michael following Vito as paterfamilias, it seems jarringly out of character.
Two other scenes clarify minor plot points. Michael's henchmen kill Fabrizio with a car bomb; Al Neri muscles Meyer Klingerman, a Vegas casino owner, into selling his hotel. Like the above scenes, these additions are early and insubstantial.

Fabrizio's new identity

Oddly, Vito's exploits in 1910s New York are more fleshed out. Vito witnesses several thugs cut Don Fanucci's throat, revealing that his claim of Black Hand backing is a bluff. This has utility, showing how Vito killed Fanucci so easily. We meet a teenaged Hyman Roth and watch Vito kill the gunmen who shot his mother. Fine, but superfluous. These scenes were beautifully realized without additions.
Rumors exist that Coppola's rough cut ran close to six hours, somewhat confirmed by the script. Vito's storyline extended into the Prohibition era, waging war on Al Capone and mentoring a young Luca Brasi. Michael's storyline fleshed out its subplots: Pentangeli's feud with the Rosatos included a tense negotiation before the botched hit. Fredo's visitors in Cuba included not only Geary but Questadt; it's thus implied that Batista's collapse initiated the Senate hearings, not Roth.
Coppola and Puzo also extended Michael's story into the early '60s. Michael expanded into Washington politics, using Senator Geary's connections to influence Congress and the White House. Overly ambitious, it's nonetheless an intriguing idea, the natural culmination of the Corleone Empire. Along with Vito's expanded storyline, these ideas found their way into Mark Winegardner's sequel novels, Ed Falco's The Family Corleone and several putative scripts for Part IV.
What Reediting WroughtMore important than the additions: what does reediting the films accomplish? These recuts were made for television, so viewing them in miniseries format seems ideal. Nonetheless, many viewers will watch it in one sitting.
The concept's sound on the surface. Coppola intended Part II to be a continuation of The Godfather, rather than a sequel. In structure it's a grand, multigenerational epic, a gangland Buddenbrooks of changing times and vivid personalities. The structure's more literary than cinematic, perhaps Coppola's intent. However, it makes for a long, frustrating viewing experience.
One argument for the Epic concerns character development. Michael's arc from innocent to dutiful son, then cold-blooded Don, registers even more strongly. Here, the chronological order enhances Al Pacino's performance and the story progression. Supporting characters like Sonny, Kay, Tom Hagen and even Al Neri benefit from additional scenes. Unfortunately, Vito's arc feels stunted by the omission of the Prohibition material; there's still a major chunk of his life story missing.
Consider also that Part II wasn't planned until the original became a hit. Inconsistencies otherwise ignored become more obvious. Hyman Roth's fleeting appearance in 1917 doesn't change that he's missing from Part I, despite his closeness to Vito. Clemenza was replaced by Pentangeli when Richard S. Castellano refused to return. That Clemenza's story arc, from mentoring Michael to betraying, was cut short can be ignored in separate films, but it's painfully obvious here.
Part II works because of the contrasting storylines: Vito building the Family, Michael destroying it. These parallel plots play off each other, each story heightening the other's emotional intensity. Laid flat in chronological order, they lose their power. Vito's scenes seem almost insubstantial, Michael's somewhat banal. While the characterizations build, we're given completely new plotlines: Michael's feud with Hyman Roth doesn't relate to Vito's battle with Barzini at all.
Editing two films into one inevitably affects pacing and tone. This especially damages the Part II scenes; even with added scenes, ragged gaps emerge in the narrative, flaws are amplified, the tone becomes disjointed. Worse, scenes that played brilliantly in their original content lose their power.
Part II's best scene has Vito stalking Fanucci through the Feast of San Rocco before assassinating him. Suspenseful and beautifully shot, it's also the movie's centerpiece, coming at midpoint (and theatrically heralding an intermission). In the Epic, its grand, graceful staging remains, but the emotional power's diminished by placing it forty minutes into the movie. The film goes on, granting this extraordinary sequence no significance beyond a plot point.
Or consider another famous scene. Part I begins with Bonasera in close-up, declaiming "I believe in America" and begging Vito for help. It's a brilliant introduction to The Godfather, establishing the contrast between lawful society and the Mob's interior world, immigrant ambivalence towards America, Vito's quiet power and authority. In the Epic, Vito's Little Italy adventures have embedded these themes into our consciousness; Bonasera's plea becomes just another scene.
Whatever its flaws, The Godfather Epic is still The Godfather, full of great acting, brilliant filmmaking and indelible imagery. Corleone devotees who binge-watch Godfather DVDs and television marathons will find it convenient. Despite the added scenes and character complexity, The Godfather Epic and its assorted cousins exist more as achievements than entertainment.
Sources and Acknowledgements
As always, Peter Cowie's The Godfather Book (1997) and Harlan Lebo's The Godfather Legacy (1992) provided useful background information, while most of the images come from The Godfather Wiki.
That said, this article owes its primary debt to The Godfather Museum, whose article comparing the different alternate cuts (not only official versions but fan edits) is an invaluable resource for Godfather aficionados. The analysis and errors, of course, are my own.