Carpe Diem, Al Pacino!
What does he portray? Where can a man
search to find tremors rotting in a live walking noir? Am I greedy of guns or
just perplexed at the intensity of a man holding it? Why must a director creep
behind a camera, only to see a romanticized filming of anger - locked-in by unnoticeable
manacles of struggle – before anyone else?
A simple, lively, love-drenched girl (Kay Adams, from The Godfather) was eager to explore the family secrets of a man who
never made any attempt to hide the intensity he was born with. He was war-tainted
and family bliss rejected. I was sure that Michael
Corleone would suddenly bring an empathetic, cheerful look on his face and
uncover the mysteries of the Don. But
the Al Pacino guy never let the
buried sadness in Michael’s eyes fade
away. This grabbed my attention. Where some actors possess a sickening cape of
deception to liven their characters, Al Pacino taught me that Silent and Intense are the trademarks of those who can uplift their virtues
just by a two-second stare. Never must we drop our dark trademarks, no matter
what peak we are about to scale. Yes, he made me believe that Silence is a virtue.
“Say, hello to my little friend.” If you
do not remember this, you know nothing about the mafia in cinema. Triggering
the savage hound to leave an immaculate cult in our mind, Scarface brought to light the norm: ‘Shoot it like Tony Montana’. When I ponder upon the
cast of the movie, I feel that if the decision to cast Al in Scarface would have
been dropped out, then thousands of rooms would have been void of the iconic, black
& white Scarface poster.
James
Dean with a cigarette… I’d rather watch Al
Pacino with a cigar. Not that I
don’t admire the badass Dean, but the
mystique in the name of Al brings a
shadow of John Dillinger upon mine
eyes.
Vérité to be visualised,
anti-utopia to be felt, I can proudly declare him as my favourite actor. A
thousand recommendations, hundreds of actors donning the aviators, I grab hold
to a cult-classic with Marlon Brando in
a godly figure, just to watch his on-screen son flying in a tornado of war
crimes. Grim souls surrounding a sapling, he mortifies the dogma of method
acting in such a fashion that I could perfectly relate Pacino as Michael while
reading The Godfather.
Prior to writing this article, I read and
shared a column describing the most enduring love story of John Cazale and Meryl Streep.
John Cazale, the guiding light of Al,
shaped the latter in a way that would make him one of the best. The sadness
is perhaps inspired from the evergreen Cazale.
The depth of which broadened exponentially in Scent Of A Woman. If observed closely, we can seek Cazale in a hideous figure. The Academy
Award for Best Actor in a leading role, is what I believe defines a subtle
justification of this observation.
Words will reach an endless figure, if I
write the admiration I have, for this Godfather.
He shall rule my movies collection for as long as I have them. Happy
Birthday, Al. Your birth in this
acting realm is an act of conjuring. There shall only be few Martin Scorceses, Sergio Leones and Al Pacinos
and I’m glad they exist at my time.
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