Radio Days (1987)

Director: Woody Allen

Starring: Mia Farrow, Seth Green, Julie Kavner, Dianne Wiest, Michael Tucker, Danny Aiello, Tony Roberts, Jeff Daniels, Seth Green, Woody Allen (narrator)

Since the invention of the television, and other visual and auditory electronic devices, the radio, while it hasn’t been phased out, has taken on a decidedly smaller role in our lives from the one it used to play. That, in essence, is one of the main driving points of “Radio Days,” which is first and foremost a movie about nostalgia for a bygone era. Having been born during the television age, I don’t think that this movie was made with my generation (or the one after mine) in mind. Most of the vignettes are memories the main character associates with radio broadcasts of significant value which he remembers hearing as a child. Some of their real-life counterparts I know of from anecdotes I’ve heard, but I was decades away from being born when they were originally broadcast. I do like it when the TV airs reruns of older shows, or when the radio plays the songs that were hits when my parents were in their teens/early 20’s. As such, this too is not out of a sense of nostalgia, instead it is out of good taste. Same reason I’ve been on this Woody Allen marathon as of late, of which “Radio Days” is the culmination.

As the narrator, director Woody Allen provides the voice of the adult version of the main character for most of the vignettes, a redheaded Jewish boy named Joe (Seth Green) growing up in late 1930’s/early 40’s New York. One of these includes his quest to obtain a secret decoder ring, something to which most young boys can relate. We all tried to pester our parents for that toy we just HAD to have; some of us were just more persuasive than others. Joe’s parents (Julie Kavner, Michael Tucker) are not so easily persuaded, and as the adult Joe glumly reports, he never got that ring. My, how did he ever survive without it?

Occasionally, the radio holds onto the attention of our cast with startling news broadcasts… most of which are genuine. One instance in which the news is fantasy is the infamous “War of the Worlds” broadcast, interrupting an otherwise lovely evening for Joe’s Aunt Bea (Dianne Wiest), revealing her date to be a total coward. The parts about World War II are presented seriously, as well they should be. Maybe my favorite sequence, though, ends up being the news of the little girl trapped down inside a well. This is an otherwise grim situation which is reported so dramatically that it results in that special kind of uncomfortable guffaw. You know you shouldn’t laugh, but you can’t help it.

The parts of “Radio Days” I’m not so fond of are those which revolve around the character of Sally White (Mia Farrow). Whether she’s getting trapped on a rooftop, or whether we’re following her attempts at becoming a radio star, I just want her to go away. It’s that voice. That horrible, godawful voice! Oh, Sally sings just fine, but any time she speaks, that high-pitched, ear-splitting sound emanating from her mouth makes me long for someone to scratch their nails on a chalkboard. Based on her stellar performances in “Rosemary’s Baby,” “Broadway Danny Rose” and “The Purple Rose of Cairo,” I know full well that Mia Farrow is capable of much better things, which is what makes the character of Sally White that much more of a disappointment.

Absolutely not disappointing is the collection of actors with whom Allen has previously worked that make their return here. In addition to Mia Farrow, Dianne Wiest and Julie Kavner, “Radio Days” also features Tony Roberts, Wallace Shawn, Danny Aiello, Jeff Daniels and Diane Keaton. I especially appreciate the return of Keaton, even if it is for just the one song. Wallace Shawn is amusing as the radio actor who provides the voice of the macho superhero, the Masked Avenger, a role he could not have played on television.

The whole point to “Radio Days,” as I have said, is nostalgia for a bygone era. Because I do not share in that nostalgia, my interests in the movie are in whether it is funny (which it is sparingly) and whether the story is interesting. Because there is no one cohesive tale but a series of short happenings, that’s a little harder to grade. Overall, color me underwhelmed, which is a sad thing to say given that this is the film with which I end my Woody Allen marathon. Nostalgia, at its core, is all about looking back at fond memories. The movie series I’m about to switch gears back to (given that tomorrow is another “Friday the 13th”) is nowhere as sophisticated as a Woody Allen movie, but it does hold that certain fondness to which I am referring. I’ll always remember exactly how old I was when I saw them for the first time. I don’t know if I’ll be able to say the same of “Radio Days.”

Manhattan (1979)

Director: Woody Allen

Starring: Woody Allen, Diane Keaton, Michael Murphy, Mariel Hemingway, Meryl Streep, Anne Byrne

Anyone who has ever displayed an interest in writing, whether for entertainment or journalistic purposes, knows exactly what’s going through Woody Allen’s mind during the opening scene of “Manhattan.” He’s on Chapter One of a new novel about a guy from New York who absolutely loves his city. His problem is that he can’t get the words to come out quite right. It’s all coming off either too preachy, too angry, or otherwise just plain wrong. Finally, after much backtracking, he stumbles upon what to him sounds like the right introduction to both the main character and his story. It’s a satisfying feeling, knowing that you’re on the right track and could be on the verge of creating something special. What’s particularly special about this three and a half minute beginning to “Manhattan” is that it is set to the music of George Gershwin’s “Rhapsody in Blue,” a tune that has become synonymous with the city of New York itself. Introductions like this are hard to come by, and the one bestowed upon “Manhattan” is one of the greatest of any movie I’ve ever seen.

Isaac Davis (Woody Allen) is a 42-year old writer for television comedy. Rather bad television comedy, as he and associates of his are quick to point out. Eventually, he becomes so frustrated with his job and the drug addicts who work with him that he impulsively walks out. Unfortunately for Isaac, acts of impulse are a common thread, especially when it comes to the women in his life. When we first meet Isaac, he’s in the middle of a relationship with a sweet-natured 17-year old girl named Tracy (Mariel Hemingway). He’s older than Tracy’s own father, he observes. Part of him recognizes the immoral, socially unacceptable nature of the relationship, and part of him doesn’t care. Isaac is also twice divorced. His second wife, a bisexual-turned-lesbian named Jill (Meryl Streep), is writing a tell-all book about their marriage. Naturally, Isaac finds this disgusting and humiliating, as it will mean that all of his friends will know every last juicy detail. He tries to force the issue, to no avail. Not exactly the most mature behavior on either person’s part.

The immaturity does not end with Isaac and his former partner. Isaac’s best friend Yale (Michael Murphy) is endangering his marriage with an affair with Mary (Diane Keaton), an opinionated, self-appointed art critic and writer of film novelizations. She uses big words to make herself sound more brilliant than she actually is, and makes observations like “I’m from Philadelphia. We believe in God,” as if everyone is supposed to know what she means. Mary and Isaac have virtually nothing in common, apart from their ability to enter into a relationship they know is wrong.

Upon this first meeting, Isaac finds Mary repulsive. Later, upon further encounters, Isaac finds himself growing strangely attracted to Mary. Although one should not always go with their first impression of another person, Isaac should have listened to his instincts this time, especially as his decision comes at the expense of Tracy and their relationship. Eventually, Mary proves just how flighty she can be, deciding that she was in fact in love with Yale all along and going off to live with him after he leaves his wife. They deserve each other. Hard to say what Isaac deserves, but can it really be someone as kind and as sweet as Tracy? He certainly thinks so, as her image comes to mind when he asks himself “What makes life worth living?” He catches Tracy just as she’s about to go to London for six months, as Isaac had suggested she do when he was trying to end things between them. Isaac pleads with her not to go. “I don’t want that thing about you that I like to change,” he tells her. It’s in this moment when you realize that Isaac could just as easily be talking to/about the city of New York.

What a bunch of assholes these people are, huh? But the actors playing them are nothing short of professional, and all are at the top of their game. Keaton proves once again why she’s just a great on-screen match for Woody Allen. The chemistry between them is undeniable. At tonight’s Academy Awards, Meryl Streep finds herself nominated for an acting award for the 19th time. Though her unparalleled career was still in its early stages in 1979, she nonetheless provides a terrific supporting performance. Jill’s unashamed confessional about her marriage to Isaac puts to mind all the singers over the years who’ve turned out hit songs based on their failed relationships, and how the airing of their dirty laundry is sometimes scrutinized. It may not be particularly tactful of her, but we can’t entirely fault her for it, either. We weren’t there for the marriage itself, only the messy aftermath.

The best acting in the movie, hands down, comes from Mariel Hemingway. She presents Tracy as a very loving individual, perhaps a bit too eager to put her trust in others but, as Isaac said, we like that about her. Most importantly, she’s very mature for her age. Despite this, her age is the very thing that is always held against her, even by Isaac whom she loves. As it so happens, among this group of selfish, spiteful and flaky adults, Tracy comes off as more mature than any of them. Folks, Hemingway will break your heart in “Manhattan.” Woody Allen himself could not have come up with a more autobiographical role. As it turns out, he really did have a 17-year old girlfriend when he was aged 42. His relationship with actress Stacey Nelkin, which he did not publicly acknowledge until fairly recently, is said (by Nelkin) to have been the basis for “Manhattan.” Additionally, in the years since the movie, Allen has had a tell-all book written about him by an ex: his girlfriend of 12 years, actress Mia Farrow. He couldn’t possibly have seen that one coming. Doesn’t make it any less bizarre. Even though it stands as one of his all-time greatest films (and my second favorite behind only “Annie Hall”), Allen himself was so displeased with his own work that he asked United Artists not to release it, instead offering to make another movie for free. Thank goodness the studio made him see reason. “Manhattan” takes the best parts of “Annie Hall” and “Interiors” and combines them into a single, classic accomplishment of filmmaking.

Beyond the great performances and the strange blurring of the lines between fiction and fact, “Manhattan” is also further enhanced by its sights and sounds. Kids today don’t seem to understand that Black & White does not automatically make a movie “old” or “boring.” When used effectively, as it is in “Manhattan,” it makes the film a more personal experience. Scenes like the famous bridge shot would not have the same power if shown in Color. The music is just as important, becoming an additional character within the movie. You must have a heart of stone if you’re not emotionally stirred by “Rhapsody in Blue,” or the instrumental versions of “Someone to Watch Over Me” and “Embraceable You.” Admittedly, it took me until my third viewing of “Manhattan” to finally “get it.” Like Isaac, I had been put off by the ugliness of the adult characters while simultaneously failing to appreciate the beauty that was right in front of my face.

Interiors (1978)

Director: Woody Allen

Starring (in alphabetical order): Kristin Griffith, Mary Beth Hurt, Richard Jordan, Diane Keaton, E.G. Marshall, Geraldine Page, Maureen Stapleton, Sam Waterston

Unhappiness and resentment, unchecked, leads only to more unhappiness and resentment. “I’ve never been able fulfill my dreams, and it’s all YOUR fault!” Like a volcano, the emotions build and build until the eventual eruption burns away everything that was good about the relationship. Time to make a clean break. But what if there are kids involved? Depends… Are the ‘children’ fully grown adults? If so, surely they’d be better equipped to handle the bombshell that’s about to be dropped in their laps, right? If they’re anything like their parents, any brave face they put on in public is merely a mask that shelters their own insecurities.

The three daughters of Arthur (E.G. Marshall) and Eve (Geraldine Page) are stunned when Arthur abruptly announces at the dinner table that he’s leaving Eve and choosing to live alone. None are more shocked by the news than Eve who, as an interior decorator, is used to a certain degree of order to her life where everything fits in its proper place. The idea that her husband wants out of their marriage is too much for poor Eve to bear, and results in suicidal tendencies that causes her well-being to weigh heavily on the minds of her children. It’s not as though they don’t have enough about their own lives that they wish they could change. Flyn (Kristin Griffith) is an actress who stars in second-rate movies, desiring to be taken seriously in her profession instead of being looked upon as merely a pretty face. Renata (Diane Keaton) is a poet whose own self-criticism is rivaled by that of her husband Frederick (Richard Jordan), a writer whose failings leave him feeling hopelessly inferior to his wife. At least they’ve found their chosen career paths. Joey (Mary Beth Hurt) isn’t so lucky. She doesn’t understand why Mike (Sam Waterston) would stick around with someone as aimless as her, let alone want to have children with her.

The real shock is when Arthur returns from his time away with a new, more “normal” girlfriend, Pearl (Maureen Stapelton), whom he met on a cruise and intends to marry. Joey is outright appalled. Renata is more supportive, but is disappointed when her father shows more concern for Joey’s lack of direction. Renata has always been jealous of her father’s perceived favoritism towards Joey who, in turn, says the same about Renata and their mother. All three daughters know what the news of Arthur and Pearl will do to their mother’s psyche. Up until now, she’s been holding out hope that all will right itself and that Arthur would eventually come back to her.

If this family is collectively guilty of any one crime, it is that they have spent too much time together. It’s clear from the moment we are introduced to them that all each person wants is to live their own lives. If left to their own devices, it would be tough to say that they could actually accomplish this. By the time the movie reaches its conclusion, the thought remains that whatever hurts they have accumulated as a unit, the current generation will separately carry on with them to the end of their days.

Depressing and dark though its subject matter can be, “Interiors” is really a beautiful movie. Woody Allen’s tribute to Swedish cinema, it was the most atypical of his movies up to that point. Any humor to be found is purely incidental. “Interiors” is not burdened by distractions. Keeping the cast small was key, as it allows the audience to become intimately involved with his characters, who are serviced by the plot instead of the other way around. Loathsome though their behavior is at times, these eight individuals all feel like real people. My favorite is Frederick, excellently played by Richard Jordan. He’s a drunkard wallowing in self-pity and jealousy, with a touch of lust directed at Renata’s sister, Flyn. What a schmuck, but I like him anyway!

Most striking about “Interiors” is the impeccable way in which certain scenes are shot. There is the opening shot, an empty, silent house which has been been beautifully decorated. I’m told it would be hard not to think of director Ingmar Bergman, which Allen has often referenced during his career, if one were more familiar with Bergman’s work. I really must look into that. Regardless of your familiarity with the source material, the scene is still very well shot. But the one I think about most is a curious choice of camerawork during one of Renata and Frederick’s arguments. She’s about to go out to some type of social gathering where people dress formally, and he’s too drunk and too pissed off about his short-comings to care enough to attend. Instead of framing this scene as if standing in the room with them as they bicker, or as a POV shot from one or the other character’s perspectives, the camera is instead hiding at the top of the stairs like an eavesdropping child. Absolutely perfect.

Never having seen “Interiors” before now and having no idea what to expect, I was dazzled by just how good this movie turned out to be. Apparently, so was Woody Allen, who was afraid all through production that it would turn out to be a bomb. He needn’t have been so concerned. “Interiors” features his most fleshed-out characters and a troupe of excellent actors to bring them to life. What more could a director ask for? Though it runs short of laughs, heart is not something which “Interiors” lacks. With a movie like this, it’s what’s on the inside that counts most of all.

Love and Death (1975)

Director: Woody Allen

Starring: Woody Allen, Diane Keaton

Several of Woody Allen’s early films, on top of being slapstick comedy, all deal with a common theme: Revolution. “Bananas” and “Sleeper” both featured plot which centered around political uprisings whose ultimate goal was the overthrow of the oppressive government in charge, with varying degrees of success. In each film, Allen played a man who cared for love, not war, yet found himself carrying out the game-changing mission all the same. With “Love and Death,” Allen once again reached for this kind of story … with varying degrees of success.

Boris Grushenko (Woody Allen) is a man who wants nothing to do with war or fighting, and yet never seems to be able to get himself out of it, try though he might. Boris is considered a coward for not standing up in defense of Mother Russia, even by his own mother. What he wants most of all is to be married to his cousin, twice removed, Sonja (Diane Keaton). Sadly, he is disappointed to learn that she is marrying another. To make matters worse, Boris is enlisted in the Army and becomes a war hero completely by accident. Later, Sonja’s husband dies tragically and, after Boris becomes engaged in a duel, she promises to marry him… but only because she believes he’s about to die. He doesn’t, and their marriage is poverty-stricken and filled with philosophical debate. Hey, at least they’re both intellectuals, right? Where they really run into trouble is when the French, led by Napoleon Bonaparte, decide to invade. Sonja gets it into her head that it’s up to them to put a stop to Napoleon. Boris, who has been shown to be preoccupied with death (particularly his own) doesn’t like the sound of this, but goes along with the doomed plot anyway.

A parody of Russian literature, with special nod to both Dostoyevsky and Tolstoy, admittedly there’s probably a lot of in-joke references which get lost on me. In the case of Allen’s own work, the foreknowledge of his succeeding films at least helps one appreciate what he was trying to do with “Love and Death.” Falling between “Sleeper” and “Annie Hall,” “Love and Death” serves as a transitional piece between Allen’s early, silly comedies and his later, more serious efforts, much in the same way that The Beatles’ “Revolver” album bridges the gap between the group’s previous achievements and the game-changing music that was still yet to come.

Not the biggest Diane Keaton fan, I can still honestly say that Woody Allen always brings out the best in her. This time he truly needed her, as she’s easily the best thing “Love and Death” has going for it. Most everyone else seems to be working on autopilot. Even Allen himself is really reaching for laughs on this one. He will string several cliched one liners together, and then try to save the moment by commenting in-character on the fact that those lines are cliched. His occasional breaking of the fourth wall, on the other hand is always welcome. Another thing I can appreciate about Allen’s films is the appearance of familiar faces among the supporting cast. Playing the part of Napoleon is James Tolkan, who no matter what else I see him in will always be recognizable to me as Mr. Strickland from “Back to the Future.” Likewise, Jessica Harper will surely remain most familiar to me for Dario Argento’s “Suspiria.” Although Harper did not come up while I was sampling some of Argento’s other titles back in December 2014, I am happy to know that I will see her again in Woody Allen’s “Stardust Memories.”

I had seen “Love and Death” once before but, as is so often the case, I hadn’t remembered much from the actual plot. I only remembered that I had found it amusing. To my crushing disappointment, the movie isn’t half as clever or witty as I had recalled. Allen referred to it as his funniest film up to that point. I wish I could agree. In fact, I cannot recall laughing more than once during the entire first half. The second half is better, as I have mentioned, thanks in large part to Diane Keaton. There’s one marvelous deadpan exchange of dialogue towards the end between Keaton and Jessica Harper that I swear is probably ten times as funny if you’re high. If the rest of the movie had been like that, Allen might have been on to something. It might be worth seeing once… or twice, depending on how long you wait in-between screenings. Beyond that, let this revolution go on without you.

Sleeper (1973)

Director: Woody Allen

Starring: Woody Allen, Diane Keaton

First impressions are all about the visuals. You see someone whom you’ve never officially met before, but in your mind you’ve already formed an idea as to what kind of person they are based on their physical appearance. There’s a small chance you’ll be right, but 9/10 of the time you’ve missed the mark entirely. The same can be true of movies. I’ll never forget the first time I saw an image of Woody Allen, courtesy of a still photograph from the movie “Sleeper.” I was six years old at the time, and the photograph was in a sci-fi (and sci-fi/comedy) movie guide put together by Starlog Magazine. In the image, his character was bouncing around (although he could have been hovering for all I knew) in what appeared to be some sort of inflatable suit. I knew virtually nothing about the film itself, apart from the most threadbare of plot analyses. The reviewer called it “the funniest SF feature.” High praise. Being a big fan of other sci-fi comedies such as “Ghostbusters” or “Spaceballs,” I was expecting something along those lines. If I had any idea what kind of filmmaker Woody Allen is, I would have thought differently.

The year is 2173, and the society that was has been defeated and destroyed by war… and most probably a few miserable election cycles back when there was still such a thing. In its place is a pathetic excuse for a world where people jump into booths to “perform sex,” robot servants attend to your every whim, and everything that was said to be unhealthy for you is now found to be the opposite, and vice versa. Oh, and intellectuals and free-thinkers are reprogrammed to behave as the government (ruled by an overlord referred to only as the “Leader”) sees fit. This is the world that Miles Monroe (Woody Allen) is waking up to after spending 200 years in suspended animation.

Before Miles has had enough time to really process the fact that the world he remembers is ancient history, he’s being hunted by the government, who put an alert out to anyone who comes in contact with him to report “the alien” (as he is referred) immediately. Disguising himself as a robot servant, Miles ends up at the home of a socialite named Luna (Diane Keaton). When Miles first meets Luna, she’s a very naive, not especially bright young woman who writes bad poetry. She’s also the sort you have to learn to hold your tongue around because you’re bound to notice something she’s said that warrants correction, and she hates being wrong!

Eventually, Miles is forced to reveal himself to Luna, who alerts the authorities the first chance she gets. Miles has to come to her rescue when the agents determine that she, too, must be “corrected” for simply having been in close proximity to “the alien.” Returning to the house where he was first unfrozen, albeit unintentionally, they are caught and Miles buys time for Luna to escape. This is where their roles become reversed, as Miles is brainwashed so that he’ll behave as a cooperative, complacent member of society, whereas Luna becomes a member of the rebellion. When the two are later reunited, they discover that the Leader had been killed ten months prior, and that a plan is moving forward to clone him using the only piece of him left intact: his nose. This makes their mission clear: steal the nose, dispose of it, and be rid of the Leader once and for all. The hard part, assuming they succeed, is deciding what comes next.

As with his earlier slapstick comedies, Woody Allen taps into the early days of cinema for inspiration. It can be said that “Bananas” owed a bit to the Marx Brothers, just as it is also true that “Sleeper” could not exist without the films of Buster Keaton. The best example of this is in Allen’s scenes where he’s posing as the robot slave. These scenes work because all of the comedy is in his facial expressions. You want another example? How about the scene where, while he and Luna are on the run and in need of food, Miles finds a field full of giant-sized fruits and vegetables. Here, you see Miles and one other person literally slipping on a banana peel. The jazz score for “Sleeper” also sounds like it belongs as the accompaniment to a film from the silent era.

Diane Keaton, whose work outside of the “Godfather” saga and her collaborations with Woody Allen I have a hard time getting excited over, displays great range with her part in “Sleeper.” Apart from the tremendous growth her character undergoes in a movie that last for less than 90 minutes, Keaton (no relation whatsoever to Buster) is also the best thing about my favorite scene in “Sleeper.” The brainwashing Miles undergoes proves tough to crack. Resisting the persuasion to return to normal, he slips into the role of Blanche DuBois from “A Streetcar Named Desire.” This gives Diane Keaton a chance to imitate her “Godfather” co-star, Marlon Brando, when Luna plays along by assuming the role of Stanley Kowalski. She has Brando’s facial expressions so close to perfect that it’s the biggest laugh-out-loud moment of the entire picture. It’s something that has to be seen to be fully appreciated, but it is absolutely marvelous.

“Sleeper” is not what I consider to be the funniest sci-fi movie I’ve ever seen, nor is it Woody Allen’s best, but it is still among my favorites of his. The thin plotline means that this movie survives based on the combined talent of its lead actors and the laughs they are able to produce through their interaction, as well as a few well-timed sight gags. I remember being underwhelmed the first time I saw it, only to reverse my opinion on subsequent viewings. So, don’t be surprised if “Sleeper” doesn’t make the best of first impressions. If you find that it’s not your cup of tea, I would not advocate that you have your mind changed for you. It’s no skin off my nose.

The Godfather Part II (1974)

Director: Francis Ford Coppola

Starring: Al Pacino, Robert Duvall, Diane Keaton, Robert De Niro, Talia Shire, John Cazale, Lee Strasberg, Michael V. Gazzo

Don’t ask me to choose a favorite between “The Godfather” and “The Godfather Part II,” for that would be a truly impossible task. In the past, I often went back and forth on which one I preferred. It seemed to change with every single viewing, so I finally gave up and decided to love them equally. That is why both occupy the same space on my list of favorite films. But “The Godfather Part II” takes certain chances that “The Godfather” did not, beginning with its narrative structure. Being asked to shift back and forth between two time periods, many critics found the movie had left them horribly confounded. The argument was that the audience was never given enough time to get accustomed to either storyline. I confess that this also happened to me the first time. Upon further study, I came to see it for the stroke of brilliance that it really is.

All that I love about the cinematography of “The Godfather” is once again present in “The Godfather Part II.” For example, in the sequences involving the young Vito Corleone (Robert De Niro), the sepia tones are even more pronounced than they were in “The Godfather.” The proverbial photograph is even more faded. This is because Vito’s scenes span from his immigration to the U.S. as a nine year old in 1901 to his ascension to power as an adult in the 1910’s and 1920’s. I especially like seeing those old Model T’s, the cars that resembled motorized carriages. My favorite visual aspect of the 1950’s scenes is the interior design of the residences. From family photographs I’ve been shown, this movie really captures how living in a house in the 1950’s would have looked.

The one thing that really keeps me coming back, though, is the acting. There are many actors at the top of their game here. The ones who stand out for me are Robert De Niro, Diane Keaton, and of course Al Pacino. Each of them plays a character we’re already familiar with, and now it’s as though we know them intimately, like they are people who exist in the real world.

De Niro, who won Best Supporting Actor, is so convincing as the young Vito Corleone that it’s scary. He really has all of Marlon Brando’s mannerisms from the previous film down pat. There is a way that he scratches his chin that informs us this is most certainly the same guy we saw before. Also effective is the way De Niro, as Brando had before, contorts his face and tilts his head to the side to express that Vito has been made weary by a prior conversation. But I think my favorite is when he’s explaining to someone the reward factor of doing him a favor. He touches his index finger to his temple and says, in Italian, “I won’t forget it.” Vito always knew how to return a favor. His scenes are here to show us how Vito and Michael both arrived at the same destination, yet the paths they took to get there and the manner in which they approached them were quite different.

Diane Keaton, returning as Michael’s wife, Kay, portrays a character who is perhaps the strongest person in the entire movie. She is the only person willing to stand up and tell Michael he’s gone off the deep end without any fear of what the consequences of her actions might be. She knows, as well as Michael does, that being the mother of his children gives her an advantage that no mafia boss or Corleone family underling will ever possess. In fact, all of the women in Michael’s life have had a certain power over him, even his sister, Connie. But it is Kay who can be on the outside looking in and still have the greatest affect on him, no matter how hard or how many times he slams that door in her face.

At no other point in the history of the Academy Awards has a bigger mistake been made than when Art Carney was awarded Best Actor instead of Al Pacino. Not to disparage Art Carney, but the tour de force performance which Pacino gives here really has no equal. I suppose it would be easier if everyone who was up for an acting award had given the same performance, but that’s not how the Oscars are set up. Still, to deny Pacino an award for this specific film is downright criminal.

In 2008’s “The Dark Knight,” there was a line that served as that movie’s overall theme. It went as follows: “You either die a hero, or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain.” This is also applicable to the character of Michael Corleone. He was a hero in WWII, but he did not die in that war. Instead, he rose to become the most powerful mafia don of them all, wiping out everyone who stood in his way. Here, he continues his metamorphosis into full-on villain, and he completely alienates himself from those whose lives he has spared. For Michael, the Shakespearean fall is complete. It is as beautiful as it is tragic.

For “The Godfather,” I was able to single out my favorite scene in the movie. For its sequel, that’s not quite so easy. In “The Godfather Part II,” there are five scenes which I enjoy equally. In the order in which they appear in the film:

1) Fredo’s incidental betrayal revealed. In the previous scene, Michael has asked his brother Fredo (John Cazale) if he had ever met either Johnny Ola or Hyman Roth. Already guilt-ridden, Fredo has said he has never met either man. Now, at the New Year’s Eve party, Fredo reveals in casual conversation with the person next to him that he did in fact know both men. Apparently he had either forgotten or was unaware that Michael was sitting within earshot of the whole discussion. Michael doesn’t have to say a word. You can see the realization forming in his face, and you know he’s already thinking about what his next move should be now that he feels his own brother has betrayed him and the family (mostly him).

2) “You’re nothing to me now.” Michael has come to Fredo to find out what he knows about Hyman Roth’s connections within the Senate hearings against the Corleone family. Fredo tells him what he knows, and also pleads with him to understand that he didn’t know when he met with Roth and Johnny Ola that they were planning a hit on Michael. His only intrigue was that they said there would be something in it for him if he helped out on the negotiations between them and Michael. He’s upset that, despite being Michael’s older brother, he was passed over for leadership of the family. Once Fredo has his say, Michael completely disowns him. There is but one sin left for Michael to commit against Fredo that will cause him to sink any lower than this moment of pure cold-heartedness towards his own blood. This was, I think, John Cazale’s best scene in either movie because this was the one scene where we really got into Fredo’s head to know what he’s been thinking all of these years.

3) “It was an abortion, Michael!” When the movie begins, Kay is pregnant with her third child. It is going to be a son, and she knows this. Michael later learns that the child has been lost. After the senate hearings Michael has been facing have been adjourned, Kay informs Michael that she and the kids aren’t going back to Las Vegas with him. Michael is agitated, but tries to calmly convince her that she’ll soon be glad he stopped her and that he knows she’s also upset over losing the baby. That’s when Kay reveals she had the pregnancy terminated. Being raised Catholic, among other reasons, this has Michael incensed. As Kay goes on explaining why she did it, watch Michael’s face. I don’t know from what dark corner Al Pacino pulled this rage, but he looks as though his head is literally going to explode out of anger before Michael finally slaps Kay. Absolutely terrific performances from both Pacino and Keaton in this scene.

4) Birthday party flashback. It’s December 1941, and the family is waiting for Vito to arrive home so they can throw a surprise birthday party for him. As the family members talk of the recent Pearl Harbor bombing and of the many Americans who enlisted in the armed services out of patriotism, Michael informs them that he has enlisted in the Marines. It’s an excellently shot sequence for two reasons. Look at the only member of the family willing to congratulate him: Fredo. Also look at the seating arrangements. Sonny (James Caan) sits at the head of the table while everyone else sits on the left side of the table. Everyone, that is, except for Michael. When it is time to yell “surprise,” Michael is left sitting by himself at the table. This segues directly into…

5) Michael sits alone outside his home. Michael had earlier told his adopted brother Tom Hagen (Robert Duvall), “I don’t feel I have to wipe everyone out, Tom. Just my enemies.” He has succeeded in doing exactly that, but he has also angered many other people. The rest are so frightened of him that they dare not have anything to do with him. At the beginning of “The Godfather,” Michael was the rebel of the family, always on the outside looking in. Now he is the head of the family, but finds himself on the inside looking out. It gets awfully lonely at the top of the mountain.

The Godfather (1972)

Director: Francis Ford Coppola

Starring: Marlon Brando, Al Pacino, James Caan, Richard S. Castellano, Robert Duvall, Sterling Hayden, John Marley, Richard Conte, Al Lettieri, Diane Keaton, Abe Vigoda, Talia Shire, Gianni Russo, Alex Rocco, John Cazale

I finally understand what made Roger Ebert so particularly enthusiastic about “Citizen Kane.” He loved and admired Orson Welles’ 1941 magnum opus so much as to lecture an entire film studies college course devoted to the subject. As passionately as Ebert felt about that movie, I feel the same way about Francis Ford Coppola’s “The Godfather.” Don’t let the fact that I rank it in the bottom 20’s in my personal top 50 fool you. Excising all other factors and speaking strictly on the subject of the movie as a work of art, “The Godfather” is my “Citizen Kane,” the one movie I feel sets the bar against which all other movies before and since should be measured. It is a triumph of filmmaking in every conceivable manner. What’s more: “The Godfather” is the greatest Shakespearean tragedy that William Shakespeare didn’t write.

What makes “The Godfather” so visually compelling is both the time period in which the action is set, and the color scheme used to emphasize it. When we are first introduced to the Corleone family at the wedding of the youngest of Vito (Marlon Brando)’s four children, Connie (Talia Shire), it is 1945. World War II has only just come to a close. Everything you see is an accurate representation of the period, including the beautiful and exquisitely humongous automobiles. Singing at Connie’s wedding is Vito’s godson, Johnny Fontaine, who is an obvious homage to Frank Sinatra, right down to the pack of swooning young women who flock around him and shriek at the sound of every soothing note he sings. The subtle but otherwise detectable sepia tones in which the film is shot makes for an experience akin to that of staring at an old photograph. We are meant to see this as events which took place long ago, yet seem somehow familiar.

The story takes place in several different locations. My favorite of these is in the middle of the film when Michael (Al Pacino) is forced leave the country for Sicily. Here, the clothing, while still completely dignified, is somewhat more down-to-earth, and I really love that contrast to all the business suits and tuxedos of New York. Every single shot of the villages and open fields looks like an expertly painted canvas. It makes me want to travel there, knowing full well that the Sicily I find would look nothing like it does as represented here.

“The Godfather” also contains my favorite scene from any movie I have ever viewed. It is the incident which leads to Michael’s exile to Sicily. Let me set this up. Michael is a WWII veteran, one who has done everything he can to deliberately stay out of the family business. But he’s been emotionally compromised by an attempt on his father’s life, further attempts to finish the job, and a crooked cop (Sterling Hayden) who broke Michael’s jaw. Suddenly, Sollozzo (Al Lettieri), the man who set up the assassination attempt on Vito, wants to call a truce. He and Michael meet at a small, quiet Italian restaurant with the cop serving as Sollozzo’s bodyguard. Michael has come to the meeting with the intention of killing both men, which has simultaneously amused his family and given them cause for concern in regards to Michael’s safety. He assures his older brother Sonny (James Caan) that “It’s not personal. It’s strictly business.” But whom is he really trying to convince of this? His brother, or himself?

Now to the scene in question. Michael has gone to the restroom to retrieve a gun which has been planted there for him. When Michael returns, Sollozzo speaks to him in Italian, continuing the conversation they’d been having before Michael left the table. The fact that there are no subtitles during the entire discussion is key: What they are saying is irrelevant next to what we know Michael is planning, what he is thinking, and the expressions on his face as he is waiting for the right moment. Echoing Michael’s racing heartbeat is a train passing by outside the restaurant, growing louder by the second. As the noise from the train reaches its most deafening levels, Michael stands up out of his seat and shoots both men dead.

This is a big game-changer as far as character development is concerned for Michael. Up until now, the only men he has ever killed in his life were on the field of battle, the sort of killings that earn a man the right to have medals pinned on his chest. There can be no medals awarded for this deed. Michael has cemented his place in the family business, against all his efforts to stay out, a fact that distresses even his father who had much bigger plans for his youngest of three sons. Soon, when he’s able to return to the United States, Michael will inherit his father’s title of Godfather, and give orders for those under him to commit unspeakable acts, orders which even the ruthless Vito was incapable. I find it fitting, after all of the murders, back-stabbings and revenge killings, that the saddest death in the whole movie has nothing to do with the expiration of a physical human body. It moves me to tears just thinking about Michael’s transformation, one more clue as to why Al Pacino is my favorite screen actor of all-time and Michael Corleone my favorite character out of all the movies I’ve seen in my life.

The scope of the influence that “The Godfather” has had on the film and television industry over the last 40+ years can never be overstated. From just about any crime drama presented theatrically since 1972 to television series like “The Sopranos,” “Breaking Bad” and even “Weeds,” the signature of “The Godfather” is clearly visible. The score by Nino Rota is legendary. Even if you haven’t seen the movie, you almost certainly know at least one of the many memorable tracks by heart. The same is true for the dialogue, and the countless catchphrases that have become ingrained in popular culture.

It seems unthinkable now, but the version of “The Godfather” which stands is quite contrary to the version that Paramount Pictures initially wanted. Coppola was their third choice to direct after Sergio Leone and Peter Bogdanovich both said “no” on the grounds that they already had other projects lined up. Virtually none of the main cast members gelled with Paramount’s vision, particularly Brando and Pacino. Brando was thought to be a risk due to production delays on his recent films, of which he was the cause. Paramount wanted Ernest Borgnine for Vito Corleone. I appreciate Borgnine, but I can’t imagine what they were thinking. Pacino, being an unknown who was considered “too short” for the role of Michael, was not Paramount’s first choice by a longshot. The studio would have had Robert Redford or Ryan O’Neal in place of Pacino. Both are fine actors, but the casting of either would have changed the complexion of “The Godfather” entirely. In fact, Coppola had to threaten to quit the movie to get Paramount to allow him to have Pacino. Sometimes, you have to make them an offer they can’t refuse.

Annie Hall (1977)

Director: Woody Allen

Starring: Woody Allen, Diane Keaton, Tony Roberts, Carol Kane, Shelley Duvall, Paul Simon, Christopher Walken

Much of Woody Allen’s early directorial efforts, although some of them are excellent, lean more towards farce and slapstick. 1972’s “Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Sex (But Were Afraid to Ask)” is perhaps the most unique sex comedy I’ve ever seen. 1973’s “Sleeper” is Allen’s only extended attempt at sci-fi comedy and, although still one of my favorites of his, cannot be taken too seriously. 1975’s “Love and Death” is an hilarious romantic comedy set during the era of Napoleon Bonaparte. But it wasn’t until 1977’s “Annie Hall” that Allen abandoned broad comedy for more serious subjects. The end result of that decision not only paved the way for many other classic Woody Allen features; but also on its own, “Annie Hall” holds up to this day as one of Allen’s greatest achievements.

Alvie Singer (Woody Allen) is a neurotic New York stand-up comedian who is obsessing over the end of his relationship with Annie Hall (Diane Keaton), which drew to its inevitable conclusion a year earlier. With the film’s opening scene, Allen uses the method of “breaking the fourth wall,” or having his character talk directly to the audience (a method he continues to employ as the film progresses). This gets me to pay attention and become involved in his plight almost immediately. Alvie takes us on a non-linear tour of his life up to this point, including his time spent living under the Coney Island roller coaster as a child. We are also witness to his two failed marriages, the first of which is to Allison Portchnik (Carol Kane), with whom he avoids sex through arguing over the JFK second gunman theory.

Then, one fateful day on a tennis court, Alvie meets Annie. So much alike are these two that they even think the same things about how foolish/too intellectual they must seem like to the other person who is otherwise too nice to say so. They have fun together and seem the perfect match. Alvie even encourages Annie to get serious about pursuing a singing career. But Alvie’s neurosis eventually gets the better of him again. His insecurities come to the forefront anytime the subject of her prior relationships are brought up, and he gets jealous when she’s talking to other men, in particular a record producer from Los Angeles (Paul Simon). He’s also uncomfortable around Annie’s family, especially her brother and grandmother. Once they do break up, Alvie seeks out the answer to the riddle of what makes a lasting relationship, even walking up to total strangers to quiz them on what keeps them together. What Alvie is left with is a very insightful conclusion about the often futile nature of relationships and why we remain so desperate to seek them out.

If I had to pick one aspect of “Annie Hall” that I enjoy the most, it is that “breaking the fourth wall” I mentioned earlier. In particular, watch for a scene very early on in the movie where Alvie is taking Annie on a date to the movies to see “The Sorrow and the Pity.” There’s a guy standing in line with them rather loudly offering his critique on the work of philosopher Marshall McLuhan. Alvie has had enough of this clown so he steps out of line and, like a magician pulling a rabbit out of his hat, brings McLuhan in to chastise the guy for completely misinterpreting him. It’s a scene that’s so perfectly done that it doesn’t require you to know who the heck McLuhan is (and most, myself included, probably won’t). It’s just brilliant. Another great moment comes when Alvie has a private chat with Annie’s brother Dwayne (Christopher Walken). What Dwayne has to say disturbs Alvie so much that, with Dwayne driving, Alvie squirms in his car seat the whole way to the airport. There are other notable future stars in the cast in addition to Walken. Look fast for Beverly D’Angelo (of the Chevy Chase “Vacation” movies) on a TV soap opera, and Sigourney Weaver as Alvie’s date outside the movie theater near the end of the film.

“Annie Hall” won four Academy Awards, including Best Original Screenplay, Best Director, Best Actress (Diane Keaton) and Best Picture. Yes, “Star Wars” was the big blockbuster hit that year, but “Annie Hall” is the best picture of 1977. I miss the usual patented Woody Allen jazz soundtrack (the opening and closing credits are both silent), but it would have been horribly out of place in this movie. There are those who will argue that 1979’s “Manhattan” is Woody Allen’s best movie (Allen himself not being one of them), but I contend that “Annie Hall” is not only his best but also his most influential work. In addition to setting the path for the better part of the last 35 years of his directorial career, it can also be said to have inspired at least in part films such as “When Harry Met Sally…,” “(500) Days of Summer,” and “Chasing Amy.”