This is the story of how a washed-up actor reluctantly agreed to give the most important performance of his career, one that would go on to rank among the most memorable in movie history.
The first glimpse we see of Don Vito Corleone at the beginning of 'The Godfather', after hearing the famous notes by Nino Rota and the beginning of the monologue recited by Bonasera (Salvatore Corsitto), is his hand. She is leaning on his chin to listen to the unwelcome request of this acquaintance on his daughter's wedding day. Like the respectful, calm, and honorable man that he is, he listens intently. His hand moves to ask someone to offer Bonasera a drink to calm his tears. Before we see his face, we hear his voice ripped from him. "Why did you go to the police and not come to me first?" Francis Ford Coppola will not change shots until Bonasera whispers his request in Don's ear; then we see a close-up of Marlon Brando's disgusted face. They are the first minutes of a monolithic and unforgettable interpretation.
And think of how many things could have been taken from us. Marlon Brando's involvement in 'The Godfather' was first a crusade for the director (with the help of several people), then a towering transformation, followed by a hectic shoot, and finally led to a controversial Oscar. This is the story of how a washed-up actor reluctantly agreed to give the most important performance of his career, one that would go on to rank among the most memorable in movie history.
"Mario Puzo was inspired by the figure of Vito Corleone by a handful of real New York mobsters of the mid-20th century".
Puzo wrote "The Godfather" with Marlon Brando in his mind, so he would end up advocating for the actor when Paramount began developing his adaptation with Coppola at the helm. He also wanted Brando for the part, but he would have to fight tooth and nail to get it. All of Hollywood knew that Marlon Brando was a difficult employee, to put it nicely. Insubordinate, late, arrogant, and with a reputation for creating setbacks that ended up making productions more expensive, he committed the cardinal sin for the studios: starring in several films that failed at the box office.
In the late 1960s, Brando was an outcast and considered persona non grata on any major project. Paramount executives, led by Charles Bluhdorn and Chairman Stanley Jaffe, wanted basically anyone but Brando. They shuffled names like Ernest Borgnine, Richard Conte, Anthony Quinn, Carlo Ponti, or Danny Thomas. The latter seemed especially attractive to them because he had his own production company that could join forces with Paramount to cover the costs of the film. But Coppola told them that he had called Brando, which infuriated them so much that they almost screamed goodbye.
That explosive meeting happened on a Friday. At the time, Marlon Brando wasn't too sure about the project either. He was up to his neck in debt, overweight, depressed, and addicted to valium. He refused to work. Here two very important people in this story come into play: Mario Puzo and Brando's assistant. The author was really intent on having Brando play Don Corleone, so much so that he also approached Paramount (without much success) and wrote a famous letter to the actor. He said this:
Dear Mr. Brando:
I have written a book called 'The Godfather' which has had some success and I think you are the only actor who can play The Godfather with that quiet strength and irony (the book is a wry critique of American society) that the character needs. I hope you can read the book and like it enough to use whatever power you have to get the part. I'm going to write to Paramount with the same goal in case it helps anything. I know I'm being presumptuous but the least I can do for the book is try. I really think you would be great. Needless to say, I have been a fan of your art.
At that time, Brando's assistant, Alice Marchak, was desperate to help him get a job. She read all the scripts that came her way and proposed the most interesting ones, but he didn't take a second to dismiss all of her proposals. Marchak was the one who read Puzo's letter, not Brando, who was not interested in the project because, according to him, he said: “I am not a mafia godfather. I'm not going to glorify the mafia." But she knew him as only an assistant can know a Hollywood star, and she started dropping him names of actors Paramount was considering for the part, appealing to her big ego. Some of those names he made up.
She also left Puzo's letter for him on the nightstand, causing Brando to finally read it. She called the author to thank him, telling him that he didn't see it as a story of violence but "about the corporate mind." On the Monday after that catastrophic meeting at the Paramount offices, Marlon Brando told Francis Ford Coppola that he was interested in the role, that he found it "delicious" after having read the novel. “The mob is so American!” he would later say. “For me, something key in the story is that when someone was killed it was something legal. Before they pulled the trigger they said: 'It's just business, nothing personal.' When I read that, McNamara, Johnson, and Rusk came to mind, ”he assured, referring to those responsible for the Vietnam War, which he so strongly opposed.
"Brando's assistant began dropping names of actors Paramount was considering for the role, appealing to his ego. Some of those names he made up".
Of course, it took one last push from his assistant. The thing is, director and producer Al Ruddy was between him and Laurence Olivier. He was the right age to play the 62-year-old Corleone, but he was sick; Brando was only 47 years old. Marchak told her boss about this, and he made up his mind right then and there. “That one can't play a mob don!” he said.
