This Mafia story has a couple of things going for it. In its overall structure it resembles an "Apologia" in the original sense, not an apology but a defense of what the accused has done and the explanations for it.
Joe Valachi was, as I understand it, one of the first members of the Mafia (which is mentioned by name) to spill the beans about initiation rites and about the workings of the organization itself. I don't know how closely the plot resembles historical accuracy but Peter Maas was a careful and balanced writer and usually reliable. When Valachi, played by Charles Bronson in what may be his best performance, tries to hang himself in his cell, it could easily be because of guilt.
The organization of the Mafia seems to fit into a hierarchy of allegiances. It's a little like belonging to the Marine Corps. First, of course, there is one's family. But then there is the Mafia, a brotherhood sealed in blood and fire. Then there is loyalty to the particular province of the old country -- Sicily versus Naples, let's say. Only then is there any expressed allegiance to the nation of Italy itself. When a young man wants to be married, friends ask, "Is she a nice Italian girl?" (America is described by Maranzano as "a foreign country" and high-echelon members take long sojourns to Italy.) Religion is deeply felt but is irrelevant to the violent goings on. Police, lawyers, and other ethnic groups are viewed as potential enemies.
There aren't any real heroes. Valachi himself is more or less swept up into gangsterism but no excuse is given. (Thank God he wasn't an abused child.) He's participated in a number of murders and shows no remorse. We also see that some hits are made to satisfy the lust of a Capo for someone else's wife. It's not "strictly business." We identify with Valachi because he's the character whose development we follow for thirty or forty years, not because he's an upright citizen. He's happy enough to settle down to a legitimate business, running a restaurant, but he's caught in a web of conflicting allegiances to friends, family, and the organization. Except for his final confession, he's never treacherous or particularly clever.
In these -- and in other ways -- "The Valachi Papers" differ from the first two Godfather movies. In Coppola's films, which really DO resemble "apologies", we grow to love the fictional Don Vito Corleone. He's an avuncular figure who is little more than a community organizer. He helps the poor and battles the corrupt and kills only to save the neighborhood from abject subservience. The word "Mafia" is never used. The Corleone family kills only those who deserve to die. There is power and money, yes, but the power is used benevolently and the money is incidental, hardly more than a means of providing well for one's wife and children and the elderly parents, when it's not given away to the poor. When you're done watching the Godfather movies, you almost wish there were more people like that. Like Dirty Harry, they may stretch the law but they keep the streets safe and their neighbors prosperous. They only sell drugs to African-American children.
"The Valachi Papers" is a brutal movie though. There's not much emphasis on family life. No happy al fresco dinners with a dozen people sitting around a long table, drinking wine, eating veal scallopini, and singing songs. Instead there's a scene in which some guy gets his testicles removed for boffing his Capo's girl friend, while he screams and begs Valachi to shoot him.
Bronson's performance really does stand out. He's not the stern, competent character of a "Charles Bronson Movie." He's tentative, sometimes embarrassed and sometimes afraid. For the only time in human memory, he shows what appears to be genuine anguish as he's compelled by compassion to shoot his emasculated friend. Nice job.
Joe Valachi was, as I understand it, one of the first members of the Mafia (which is mentioned by name) to spill the beans about initiation rites and about the workings of the organization itself. I don't know how closely the plot resembles historical accuracy but Peter Maas was a careful and balanced writer and usually reliable. When Valachi, played by Charles Bronson in what may be his best performance, tries to hang himself in his cell, it could easily be because of guilt.
The organization of the Mafia seems to fit into a hierarchy of allegiances. It's a little like belonging to the Marine Corps. First, of course, there is one's family. But then there is the Mafia, a brotherhood sealed in blood and fire. Then there is loyalty to the particular province of the old country -- Sicily versus Naples, let's say. Only then is there any expressed allegiance to the nation of Italy itself. When a young man wants to be married, friends ask, "Is she a nice Italian girl?" (America is described by Maranzano as "a foreign country" and high-echelon members take long sojourns to Italy.) Religion is deeply felt but is irrelevant to the violent goings on. Police, lawyers, and other ethnic groups are viewed as potential enemies.
There aren't any real heroes. Valachi himself is more or less swept up into gangsterism but no excuse is given. (Thank God he wasn't an abused child.) He's participated in a number of murders and shows no remorse. We also see that some hits are made to satisfy the lust of a Capo for someone else's wife. It's not "strictly business." We identify with Valachi because he's the character whose development we follow for thirty or forty years, not because he's an upright citizen. He's happy enough to settle down to a legitimate business, running a restaurant, but he's caught in a web of conflicting allegiances to friends, family, and the organization. Except for his final confession, he's never treacherous or particularly clever.
In these -- and in other ways -- "The Valachi Papers" differ from the first two Godfather movies. In Coppola's films, which really DO resemble "apologies", we grow to love the fictional Don Vito Corleone. He's an avuncular figure who is little more than a community organizer. He helps the poor and battles the corrupt and kills only to save the neighborhood from abject subservience. The word "Mafia" is never used. The Corleone family kills only those who deserve to die. There is power and money, yes, but the power is used benevolently and the money is incidental, hardly more than a means of providing well for one's wife and children and the elderly parents, when it's not given away to the poor. When you're done watching the Godfather movies, you almost wish there were more people like that. Like Dirty Harry, they may stretch the law but they keep the streets safe and their neighbors prosperous. They only sell drugs to African-American children.
"The Valachi Papers" is a brutal movie though. There's not much emphasis on family life. No happy al fresco dinners with a dozen people sitting around a long table, drinking wine, eating veal scallopini, and singing songs. Instead there's a scene in which some guy gets his testicles removed for boffing his Capo's girl friend, while he screams and begs Valachi to shoot him.
Bronson's performance really does stand out. He's not the stern, competent character of a "Charles Bronson Movie." He's tentative, sometimes embarrassed and sometimes afraid. For the only time in human memory, he shows what appears to be genuine anguish as he's compelled by compassion to shoot his emasculated friend. Nice job.