Al Pacino

In The Godfather (1972), Al Pacino makes us watch Michael Corleone for the smallest change. Francis Ford Coppola allows him that patience, with James Caan’s impatient Sonny and Robert Duvall’s quieter Tom Hagen setting different speeds around him. We found Michael unsettling because his restraint kept us looking for clues to what he was thinking. Pacino has no need to compete with Caan’s energy to hold our attention. The family drama would be less absorbing without his willingness to take his time.

His first film lead was The Panic in Needle Park (1971), and The Godfather brought stardom before Serpico (1973) and Dog Day Afternoon (1975). Then came the larger-than-life Tony Montana of Scarface (1983). By Scent of a Woman (1992) and Heat (1995), volume and mannerisms had become part of the criticism of his performances. We would not dismiss a big speech simply for being big. The difficulty comes when we notice the delivery at the expense of the character.

Ocean's Thirteen (2007) offers a useful warning against blaming everything on the volume. Steven Soderbergh gives him Willy Bank, a deeply tanned hotel owner whom Pacino plays in a whisper. He is perfectly serviceable, but Brian Koppelman and David Levien’s script gives him so little character that the casting has to supply most of the interest. The film passes pleasantly enough, and we would not single Pacino out as its problem. It does, however, show how little even a distinctive actor can achieve when there is hardly anything to play.

We would not ask him to play every part as Michael Corleone. His appetite for theatrical speech is part of the pleasure, and a director should have a use for it beyond reminding us who has been cast. What matters is having enough of a character to keep watching once the familiar voice has registered. Begin with The Godfather, and give him time.