Rotten Tomatoes
Cancel Movies Tv shows

The Godfather Reviews

Apr 26, 2025

Easily the best movie I have ever seen, I have watched it 30 times , brilliant, the actors are the best of the best

Apr 25, 2025

The movie shows how power can change a person and i really like character development he made. He starts off as someone who wants to stay out of the family business, but by the end, he’s fully in charge and maybe scarier than his father. The lighting, music, and acting all help show that transformation. Had sometimes where I was confused like when the girl he married gets blown up in the car and then a few minutes he is back at home asking a girl to be with him.

Apr 22, 2025

Well made and great story telling 10/10

Apr 20, 2025

The Godfather might be the most well-crafted mafia film of all time. The acting, the atmosphere, the slow-burn storytelling; it’s pure cinema. Every scene is meaningful and iconic. While Goodfellas is still my personal favorite, The Godfather is a masterpiece in its own right.

Apr 13, 2025

One of the greatest films ever made. The reviewer GRAY W is an absolute moron stating the Minecraft movie is better. I created an account just to troll GRAY W. YOU SUCK.

Apr 12, 2025

Excellent movie, I really liked the plot

Apr 10, 2025

I will never understand why everyone says this is the greatest movie of all time its so boring I thought movies wre supposed to be entertaining

Apr 9, 2025

It insists upon itself

Apr 9, 2025

In the vast pantheon of cinematic art, there are few works that stand with such gravitas, such enduring significance, and such meticulous craftsmanship as *The Godfather: Part I*. Directed by Francis Ford Coppola and adapted from the novel by Mario Puzo, this film is not merely a triumph of storytelling—it is a masterwork of aesthetic composition, character development, moral inquiry, and historical resonance. It is a tale at once deeply intimate and broadly mythological, a parable of power, loyalty, transformation, and the dark undercurrents of the American dream. From the very first frames, *The Godfather* sets itself apart. The opening scene, in which the undertaker Amerigo Bonasera petitions Don Vito Corleone for justice, is emblematic of the film’s entire spirit—measured, deliberate, and steeped in tradition, honour, and the implicit codes of a world unseen by most. The lighting is subdued, the dialogue unhurried, and the mood heavy with portent. It is here, in this dimly lit study, that we are introduced to a world where justice is personal, where power is wielded not through public institutions but through whispered favours and silent debts. The film is not in a hurry to unfold its story, and rightly so—for the world it paints is one in which patience is not merely a virtue, but a necessity. Indeed, it must be said at the outset that *The Godfather* is a film of deliberate pacing. It does not conform to the demands of modern sensibilities which too often favour immediacy and constant motion. Rather, it moves with a stately grace, confident in the weight of its own story. Those who seek rapid thrills or the quick gratification of action without substance may find its rhythms unfamiliar, even daunting. But to those with the patience to listen, to observe, and to reflect, it offers riches beyond measure. The film is set in the years following the Second World War, a time of transition and turbulence in American society. The Corleone family, Italian immigrants who have carved out their empire through a combination of shrewd negotiation and calculated violence, stand as a symbol both of the immigrant’s ambition and of the moral compromises that such ambition may demand. Coppola captures this era with extraordinary attention to detail—the costumes, the vehicles, the music, the dialogue, and even the very air seem imbued with authenticity. One feels, not as though one is watching a recreation, but rather as though one has been transported wholesale into another time. The performances are uniformly magnificent. Marlon Brando’s portrayal of Don Vito Corleone is nothing short of legendary. With his gravelled voice, deliberate mannerisms, and penetrating gaze, Brando embodies a man who is both benevolent patriarch and ruthless strategist—a man whose love for his family is matched only by his willingness to do whatever is necessary to protect them. His presence is so commanding that even in scenes where he says little, the atmosphere bends around him. Yet while Don Vito may be the titular Godfather, the true arc of the film belongs to his youngest son, Michael, portrayed with astonishing restraint and emotional complexity by Al Pacino. At the film’s outset, Michael is an outsider to the family business—a decorated war hero, a university man, a figure of apparent virtue and detachment. He is the Corleone who is meant to forge a different path, to escape the cycle of violence and secrecy that binds the rest of his kin. But fate, as it so often does in tragedies both ancient and modern, intervenes. Through a series of events both personal and political, Michael is drawn into the heart of the family enterprise. It is in this gradual transformation that the film finds its most poignant power. We witness, over the course of three hours, a metamorphosis that is both chilling and inevitable. Michael becomes the very thing he once distanced himself from—not out of desire, but out of duty, out of vengeance, and, ultimately, out of an internal shift that he himself scarcely seems to comprehend. By the film’s end, he has assumed his father’s mantle, and in so doing, has lost something irreplaceable—his innocence, his soul, his future as a man unburdened by the weight of blood. What is most remarkable, perhaps, is the subtlety with which this transformation is rendered. There is no single moment when Michael "becomes" the Godfather; rather, it is a thousand tiny moments—a look, a decision, a silence—that accumulate until we realise, almost with dread, that the change has already occurred. Coppola’s direction here is masterful, trusting the audience to perceive the undercurrents rather than pointing to them. Equally compelling are the characters who orbit around Michael and Don Vito: Sonny, the volatile older brother whose temper proves both a weapon and a weakness; Tom Hagen, the adopted son and trusted consigliere, ever the voice of reason; Kay Adams, Michael’s fiancée, whose disillusionment becomes a silent commentary on the cost of power. Each is drawn with depth and care, and each serves to illuminate a different facet of the family and the world they inhabit. Thematically, the film explores the tension between personal loyalty and institutional corruption, between family honour and public morality. It asks difficult questions: Is violence justified in the service of order? Can love and cruelty coexist? Is it possible to wield power without being consumed by it? These are not questions with easy answers, and the film wisely refuses to provide them. Instead, it presents its world as it is—complex, contradictory, and heartbreakingly human. Technically, the film is a marvel. Gordon Willis’s cinematography, often bathed in rich shadows and golden light, lends the film an almost painterly quality. Nino Rota’s haunting score weaves itself through the narrative like a lament, at once romantic and elegiac. Every frame, every note, every movement seems carefully chosen, crafted with reverence for the story being told. In conclusion, *The Godfather: Part I* is not merely a film—it is a meditation on power, a lament for lost innocence, and a portrait of a family both bound and broken by the very forces that elevate them. It is a slow burn, yes, but one that glows ever brighter as it unfolds, illuminating the darkest corners of the human experience. To those who dismiss it for its pace, I say this: greatness is rarely hurried. And in the case of *The Godfather*, it is precisely in its patience, its poise, and its quiet, smouldering intensity that its true genius lies. I recommend it, then, without reservation, to any soul who values art that demands something of its audience—attention, reflection, and, above all, time.

Apr 8, 2025

High level movie making. Superb, James Caan is fantastic!

Apr 7, 2025

just didn’t like this movie i didn’t have enough

Apr 5, 2025

Después de ver The Offer tenia que ver nuevamente esta obra maestra, más aun con de todos los detalles que me dio la serie y que hacen de esta una película aún más grande. Que genio que era Coppola.

Apr 5, 2025

Considerado um dos mais importantes títulos da Nova Hollywood — movimento cinematográfico também conhecido como Hollywood Pós-clássica — esse filme transcendeu as restrições de sua era e seu gênero, estabelecendo novos padrões sobre o que poderia ser esperado do cinema — em todos os aspectos: técnico, artístico e narrativo — nas décadas seguintes e servindo de inspiração e modelo para cineastas de gerações sucessoras à de Francis Ford Coppola. Visualmente lindo como uma pintura feita a óleo, brilhantemente atuado e marcado por uma narrativa profundamente ambiciosa e complexa, "O Poderoso Chefão" é, para mim, mais que um exímio épico criminal: é uma das maiores obras de artes já feitas. E eu não estou falando apenas da 7ª arte.

Apr 3, 2025

Mid movie please save your time

Mar 29, 2025

Unmistakably stylised, remarkably jagged in its portrayal of the empathetic yet brutal nature of the Italian mafia in the United States and strongly visual in it's visceral portrayal of the Corleone family, The Godfather is arguably the world's best masterclass on filmmaking with a legendary ensemble.

Thomas V
Verified Mar 25, 2025

it insists upon itself

Mar 23, 2025

A must see great story everyone can love

Mar 22, 2025

The Greatest movie ever made!!

Mar 19, 2025

If one movie can be called absolute cinema, it's this one.

Mar 19, 2025

Obra magistral! as atuação de Brando e Pacino são impecáveis e até atores secundários mantêm o alto nível, a historia prende do inicio ao fim, cenas bem construidas e visualmente impactantes enriquecem ainda mais a história, simplesmente o melhor filme de todos os tempos.

Load More