This isn’t a part of Al Pacino I’ve seen for some time, which may be a matter of age and energy or just the fact that there aren’t nearly as many good parts for experienced talent like his in today’s cinematic landscape as there were for young men in the 1970s. But man, watching Pacino in movies like The Godfather and Scarface is kind of astounding. Both his characters themselves and his character choices got increasingly intense, with Michael Corleone starting out as a more mild-mannered guy with fairly kind-looking eyes become the same guy who kisses Fredo with an intense look that I’ve never seen replicated. And then the falseness in his eyes in that opening scene in Scarface is one of the most exciting introductions to a character that we instantly feel as though we know, even though we’ve just met. Tony Montana may be a legendary character but the act he puts on in the immigration office is just a riveting performance.
Perhaps the quality of dialogue as written and style of performance dictated by direction is determined by forces outside of an actor’s control. In many cases they’re manipulated like any other object a filmmaker uses to tell his or her desired story. But the truth in a performance on film takes place almost entirely in an actor’s eyes, and movies allow us the opportunity to get close enough to a performer to look deeply and determine whether we think they’re being truthful or false.
