A Feminist Viewing of "The Godfather"

The 1972 film The Godfather by Francis Ford Coppola might be the greatest film ever made. The plot, characters, mood, lighting, and message all convey from start to finish that The Godfather is a masterpiece of storytelling. The drama! The intrigue! The romance! The subtle humor: “Leave the gun, take the cannoli” (Godfather). The nuanced characters. The brilliant and understated performances. And who could forget how sexy baby Al Pacino was? On its surface The Godfather is an entertainingly violent film that ultimately re-worked and re-launched the gangster genre, yet through the critical lens of feminist theory and elements of new historicism, we are able to dig deep under the surface of the film to expose the mechanisms of patriarchy at work. Through its setting, story, characters, rigidly patriarchal themes, and juxtaposition against other historic events of the 1970s, we are able to view The Godfather in new and significant ways.

Set during the 1940s and 50s, The Godfather tells the story of the Corleones, an Italian-American mafia family living in New York. Patriarch Don Vito is aging and concerned about the legacy he will leave behind for his three sons, Fredo, Sonny, and Michael. Vito (Marlon Brando) relishes his role as the proverbial father, grandfather, and godfather to a who’s who of Strasbergian alumni. Newcomer Pacino shines as the level-headed favorite son, Michael, a newly returned war hero and the perfect foil to his brother, the brash and hot-headed Sonny (James Caan).  

The film opens with the lavish wedding celebration of Vito’s daughter, Connie (Talia Shire). The brightly lit, outdoor wedding festivities are juxtaposed against the dark sanctuary of Vito’s study, where even on this important family day, business is being conducted. It is this contrast of light and dark that is seen throughout the film: the symbolic dual nature of man, the good and evil that resides within everyone. Michael, the angel, is cast in full sunlight, aware of--and yet apart from--his family. With Michael is his non-Italian girlfriend Kay (Dianne Keaton), who is meeting the Corleones’ friends, family, and enforcers for the first time. Kay, clearly naive, young, and very vanilla, is dazzled by the wealth and celebrity of Michael’s family.

The celebrations don’t last long, however, as Michael becomes further entrenched in his father’s dangerous criminal underworld. When Vito is gunned down in the street in broad daylight, Michael realizes he can no longer be a bystander in his family’s affairs. The suspenseful, climactic restaurant scene is further proof that Coppola is a master storyteller. Yet despite the brilliance of this contemporary Shakespearean world Coppola has created, it still reflects and glamorizes a rigidly patriarchal society.

            The year 1972 saw the theatrical release of The Godfather and the first issue of Gloria Steinem’s Ms. Magazine. Because literature has always been at the forefront of the women’s movement, Ms. Magazine was second-wave feminism’s response to “ecriture feminine,” a modern publication specifically for women by women. The cover of the July 1972 issue of Ms. read “Wonder Woman for President” and featured a larger-than-life illustration of the famed superhero saving the world. 1972 was also the year that gave us the Watergate scandal, the last Apollo astronauts to walk on the moon, and controversial actress Jane Fonda’s fateful visit to North Vietnam. Through the lens of new historicism we can contextualize these events, particularly the continuation of the women’s movement into the next decade, alongside The Godfather, a film that consistently marginalizes and stereotypes women.

            As the film begins, we see a close-up on the face of a middle-aged Italian man named Amerigo Bonasera. Bonasera has come to Don Vito’s study on the day of Connie’s wedding to ask for a favor (it is believed that a true Sicilian would never refuse a favor on the day of his daughter’s wedding). Would the Godfather be willing to help his family by killing the men who assaulted his daughter? Bonasera sadly tells Vito, “She was the light of my life. Beautiful girl. Now she will never be beautiful again” (Godfather). This statement conveys to the audience exactly how The Godfather perceives women: as objects to be possessed, coveted, and discarded. The shame and disgrace of her assault and the loss of her innocence are too much for her father to bear. Bonasera’s past-tense usage of the word “was” indicates that his daughter no longer is the light of his life. In the eyes of Bonasera, and the rest of the world, she is a fallen woman, never to be beautiful or whole again.

            A short time later, a man named Luca Brasi enters Vito’s study. Brasi is the Corleone family’s enforcer, a towering giant of a man used for his intimidation and muscle. Brasi has come to congratulate Don Corleone on his daughter’s marriage. Clearly not known for his eloquence, Brasi proclaims, “And I hope that their first child be a masculine child” (Godfather). Brasi’s awkward speech is humorous on its surface but indicates to the viewer the deeper overarching mechanisms of patriarchy in society. When placed in a historical context, his statement indicates a long held belief that sons have always been more desirable than daughters. Traditionally sons inherited titles, wealth, estates, and eventually passed down the family name. Conversely, daughters were burdens to their family; they are a family’s liability and responsibility. A daughter requires a dowry with which to purchase a husband, and once she is married she will take her husband’s name, thus extinguishing her own forever.

These rigid strictures placed on women have been prevalent throughout history and are often displayed in The Godfather. The film tends to categorize women into two main types: the Madonna and the whore. Nowhere is the Madonna more evident than in the character Apollonia, whereas her counterpart, “the whore,” is seen in the number of women that Sonny Corleone sleeps with throughout the film. These stereotypical caricatures of women show them as either beautiful, pleasurable accessories or as helping advance the machinations of the men. Because these women are given precious little screen time, it’s important to pay attention when they do appear.

In her academic article “Hemmed In: Kay Adams and Her Changing Fashions,” author Emma Hager explains the significant role that women’s fashion played in The Godfather. Emma states, “Given that women speak all too rarely in the film, it’s especially important that we dwell on how their clothes speak for them. We need to pay attention, when we can, to the pouf of a sleeve or the hem of a dress; they offer a lexicon cut from a different cloth, whose words are quite revealing” (Hager). This shows that Hager is interested in how the clothing reflects or “speaks” for the personalities of each woman in the film, even if these women have no voice of their own.

There are four main women from The Godfather whose power dynamics (or lack thereof) are worth paying attention to: Mama, Connie, Kay, and Apollonia. Mama Corleone’s first name is never mentioned in the film. She is merely Vito’s wife, an extension of her husband and the vessel through which Vito’s heirs are conceived. Most of her scenes feature her bouncing a grandchild on her hip. Mama’s dialogue in the film is spoken in Italian with no subtitles. In other words, she literally has no name and no voice.

Mama Corleone has one daughter, Connie, who proves to be just as impulsive and temperamental as her brothers Sonny and Fredo. Connie chooses for herself a spouse who repeatedly verbally and physically abuses her. When Sonny decides to become involved in her marital problems (to disastrous effect), Connie defends her husband’s violent actions by claiming responsibility for them. The submissive victimization that Connie demonstrates throughout the film is the very thing that second wave feminists of the 1970s were trying to distance themselves from. However, Mama Corleone and Connie are not the most interesting women in the film. Instead, the audience is drawn to the two love interests of Michael – Kay and Apollonia.

As an outsider to the Corleone family, Kay Adams is the audience’s entrée into the mysterious world of The Godfather. Kay is the typical girl-next-door: a cute, skinny, blond-haired, WASP, as American as homemade apple pie and a striking contrast to all the dark-haired, intimidating Italians. Her physical distinctions and progressive views are a clear indication that, in choosing her, Michael is breaking with tradition and pursuing a more Americanized life. Despite Kay’s tendency towards naiveté, she is a modern woman with modern sensibilities. As demonstrated in one of the film’s deleted scenes, Kay and Michael are shown in bed together outside the conventional boundaries of marriage. That’s not to say that Kay is a whore, but it indicates her forward-thinking attitudes of sexual liberation, the importance of reproductive rights, and the nonconformity that were all hallmarks of the women’s movement. Kay’s unconventional sensibilities are a stark contrast to the traditionally patriarchal Corleone family.

It would have been easy for the character of Kay to be completely lost in the background of The Godfather if she hadn’t been played by actress Diane Keaton. Keaton brings just enough personality to the surface to make Kay likeable, if somewhat forgettable. At times, Keaton’s performance feels rigid and halting, especially considering that a mere five years later she would go on to portray one of the most iconic feminist characters of all-time, Annie Hall.

In her 2011 memoir Then Again, actress Diane Keaton talks about her iconic look for Annie Hall, where she was given unprecedented license to create her wardrobe and to “wear what you want to wear” (Keaton, 125-126). Annie Hall’s clothes imitate traditional masculine apparel: loose-fitting pants, dress shirts, a bowler hat, and neckties, but reworked in a new and unique way. Her uncomplicated, unfussy appearance is a reflection of the shifting attitudes surrounding gender roles and the growing women’s movement. The character of Annie Hall is so full of personality and opinions, it’s often hard to reconcile her to Kay Adams. Yet despite Kay’s lack of personality, there are subtle expressions where it’s clear that Keaton is utterly in command of the character . Her embarrassment at being kissed by Fredo and her reaction to Michael’s goodbye all show that Keaton brought subtle emotion to the stiff Kay Adams.

The other woman in Michael’s life is Apollonia Vitelli (Simonetta Stefanelli). Apollonia is the perfect foil to Kay and likely the perfect woman for a man like Michael. Like something out of a dream, Michael (now in exile) comes across Apollonia while walking through the Italian countryside and is seemingly struck “by the thunderbolt” (Godfather). Apollonia is everything that Kay is not: Italian, dark haired and olive skinned, striking, demure, earthy, voluptuous, and a virgin. Apollonia is the film’s quintessential Madonna, and the beautiful setting of their first meeting has undertones of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden. Apollonia is pure and untouched and represents the uncomplicated kind of woman that Michael’s family likely always intended for him to marry. She is a woman who will bear his children and never question his patriarchal authority.

In his pursuit of Apollonia, Michael conforms to the rigid rules of Italian courtship – the couple rarely speak to one another and are certainly never alone together. Michael courts the entire Vitelli family by bringing gifts for everyone, ultimately winning their admiration and trust. With Kay seemingly forgotten and thousands of miles away in America, Michael’s determined courtship of Apollonia eventually leads to marriage. On their wedding night, the couple (both dressed in virginal white) exchange a hesitant embrace. They are, after all, virtual strangers to one another. But love, like happiness, is fleeting and despite Michael’s newfound pleasure with Apollonia, the world he inhabits is a dangerous one. When Apollonia is killed in an explosion that was intended for Michael, he returns to America, determined to rekindle his relationship with Kay. 

One of the most interesting exchanges between Michael and Kay happens near the end of the film. After years of silence, our fallen angel Michael is attempting to lure Persephone to his kingdom. He justifies, “My father is no different than any other powerful man, any man who’s responsible for other people. Like a senator or a president.”

“Do you know how naïve you sound Michael? Senators and presidents don’t have men killed.”

“Oh. Who’s being naïve Kay?” (Godfather). This scene is important in reestablishing both Michael and Kay’s positions and beliefs and perhaps Kay’s willingness to overlook the darker aspects of Michael’s family. In the end, Kay ultimately succumbs to her emotions and returns with Michael to his patriarchal world.  

Despite the abundant toxic masculinity in The Godfather, the final scene of Coppola’s film is a surprisingly feminist one. The scene closes on the lone image of Kay standing just outside of Michael’s office. As the door shuts on her face we see a myriad of emotions cross her features: understanding, vulnerability, sadness, fear, and exclusion. As the camera pans out, the dawning realization of Kay’s circumstances show just how dismissed and separate she is from Michael and the patriarchal world of men he inhabits. Kay’s final moment in The Godfather subtly acknowledges feminists and their century’s long struggle for equality against the mechanisms of patriarchy. Just as the literal door is being shut on Kay, the proverbial door has been continuously shut on women. That Coppola even acknowledges Kay’s perspective demonstrates that he recognizes the unfairness of a woman’s position even if he offers up no solution to it.  

Works Cited

Godfather, The. Directed by Francis Ford Coppola, Paramount Pictures, 1972.

Hager, Emma. “Hemmed In: Kay Adams and Her Changing Fashions,” The Godfather: Anatomy of a Film, UC Berkeley, spring 2018, https://theseventies.berkeley.edu/godfather/2018/06/30/hemmed-in/. Accessed 11 Nov. 2019.

Haskell, Molly. “World of ‘The Godfather’: No Place for Women,” The New York Times, section 2, pp.17, 23 Mar. 1997. https://www.nytimes.com/1997/03/23/movies/world-of-the-godfather-no-place-for-women.html. Accessed 11 Nov. 2019.

Keaton, Diane. Then Again. New York: Random House, 2011.