Video wird geladen...

Video konnte nicht geladen werden

Zur Startseite

139,674 Aufrufe • vor 4 Monaten •via X (Twitter)

0 Kommentare

Keine Kommentare verfügbar

Kommentare vom Original-Post werden hier angezeigt

Ähnliche Videos

There are two deleted scenes in The Godfather that were originally supposed to take place after Connie’s wedding. In them, Michael Corleone accompanies his father, Vito, and his two brothers to visit the dying Genco Abbandando, the family’s consigliere, in the hospital. In his preproduction notes, Francis Ford Coppola wrote that he wanted these scenes “to further define and provoke Michael’s relationship to the Don,” adding, “We can see that although they are strained together, the Don is immensely interested in Michael.” The main source of tension between them was Michael’s decision to join the Marines after the United States entered World War II several years earlier. The novel reveals the extraordinary lengths Vito went to in an attempt to keep his youngest son out of the war. “Don Corleone had no desire, no intention, of letting his youngest son be killed in the service of a power foreign to himself. Doctors had been bribed, secret arrangements had been made. A great deal of money had been spent to take the proper precautions.” But against Vito’s wishes, Michael enlisted and went on to become a captain and decorated war hero. His photograph was even published in Life magazine, prompting Vito to remark disdainfully, “He performs those miracles for strangers”—a line Coppola later reworked into the second deleted scene. After being wounded, Michael briefly returned home before leaving again to attend Dartmouth College, choosing to pursue his own education and future without consulting his father. By the time he returns for Connie's wedding, he has spent years deliberately distancing himself from both Vito and the Corleone family. Coppola reinforces that separation visually during the wedding scene. Michael is presented in his Marine uniform while the rest of the family are dressed in black. Rather than standing with Vito and his brothers, he sits in a secluded corner of the garden with Kay Adams. As Puzo writes, Michael sits there “to proclaim his chosen alienation from father and family.” Kay further emphasizes that divide. She is the outsider, the “American girl” whom the Corleones immediately judge and reject: “Beside him sat the American girl everyone had heard about but whom no one had seen until this day. He had, of course, shown the proper respect and introduced her to everyone at the wedding, including his family. They were not impressed with her. She was too thin, she was too fair, her face was too sharply intelligent for a woman, her manner too free for a maiden.” The phrase “the American girl” is significant because it is exactly how Vito derisively refers to Kay in the first deleted scene. It was probably wise for Coppola to leave these scenes out, since the film was already very long. But they're interesting to look at as they reveal an early tension between Michael and Vito that the finished version never gets the chance to explore.

Gangster Cinema Central

70,039 Aufrufe • vor 8 Tagen

Many remember Vito Corleone's final conversation with Michael as the moment a father passes his empire to his son. But if that had truly been Francis Ford Coppola's central point, the scene would never have taken place in a garden. He would have set it in the office. That is where power is built. It is also where power is transferred. Instead, Coppola does the opposite. He removes Vito from every symbol that has defined him throughout the film. The dark office is gone. The desk where life-and-death decisions were made is gone. The men waiting for his orders are gone. Even Don Corleone's black suit is gone. What remains is an elderly man in a simple cardigan, sitting among trees, speaking with his son in the soft light of late afternoon. At first glance, it seems like nothing more than a change of location. In cinematic terms, however, it is the most important choice in the entire sequence. For nearly three hours, Coppola carefully builds Vito through the language of power. In this scene, he deliberately strips those layers away. Not to make the character appear weaker. But to stop us from seeing Don Corleone—and allow us to see Vito. Just as importantly, Michael is never framed as a subordinate receiving instructions. The two men sit at eye level. The camera refuses to establish dominance. There is no composition of command and obedience. Because this is not staged as a transfer of authority. It is staged as a meeting. One man has almost reached the end of his journey. The other is about to begin its most difficult chapter. What Vito offers is not a collection of strategies for victory. Strategy belongs to its own time and circumstance. What he passes on is something deeper—a sense of direction that can endure even when circumstances inevitably change. That is why the rhythm of the scene becomes remarkably quiet. There is no conflict. No dramatic climax. No speech designed to astonish the audience. Coppola lets everything settle. Because some truths can only be heard after the noise has faded. That is also why he chooses the garden. Throughout The Godfather, it is the place closest to nature. A garden is where human beings care for life, but never create it. A gardener cannot force a seed to grow. He can only cultivate the conditions in which the life already within the seed may flourish. In a deeper sense, Vito is doing the same. He cannot live Michael's life for him. He cannot make the choices Michael will one day face. The only thing he can do is preserve what time has already proven to be enduring, and entrust it to the next generation. This is no longer instruction. It is continuity. Perhaps that is why Coppola refuses to place the conversation inside a room. He places it among trees. Because nature has always followed a simple law. A tree does not keep its fruit for itself. The fruit bears seeds. The seeds become new trees. Life does not continue through possession. Life continues through what is given away. And it is here that Coppola completes Vito Corleone's journey. For most of the film, Vito is a Don. He commands. He judges. He protects his family. He carries an entire order upon his shoulders. But in the garden, every one of those roles quietly falls away. What remains is not a crime boss. It is a man. A man no longer concerned with how much power he can hold. Only with what is worthy of living on after he is gone. Perhaps that is why this sequence leaves such a lasting impression. It does not ask us to admire Vito Corleone. It invites us to examine ourselves. One day our work will end. Our status will end. Our reputation will end. Even the roles life has entrusted to us will come to an end. When that day arrives, what will remain? Francis Ford Coppola never answers that question with dialogue. He answers it with images. He quietly removes a man from every symbol of power, returns him to the natural world, and lets life speak for itself. Perhaps that is why, more than half a century later, the garden scene still leaves audiences in silence. Not because it is about a Mafia family. But because it reminds us of something every human heart instinctively recognizes. A life is not ultimately measured by what we keep for ourselves, but by what is most true within us that continues to live on in the lives of others. Name movie: The Godfather (1972)

Love Classical Music and Movies 🎺🎻💖🎥🎬

32,524 Aufrufe • vor 17 Tagen