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Review: Jack Foley
SPECIAL FEATURES: Deleted scenes; The Rebirth of Scarface;
Acting Scarface; Creating Scarface; Scarface: The TV Version.
Theatrical trailer; Teaser trailer; Def Jams Presents: Origins
of a Hip Hop Classic.
HAVING explored the quieter, more thoughtful side of the Mob
in Francis Ford Coppola's Godfather films, Al Pacino went to the
complete opposite end of the spectrum in Brian De Palma's blood-soaked,
coke-heavy Scarface.
Released in 1983, De Palma's update of Howard Hawks' 1930s classic
is an extreme, often over-the-top look at one man's rise to power...
and his eventual downfall.
It is a bullet-ridden morality tale, fuelled by a larger-than-life
performance from Pacino, which frequently borders on the obscene,
but which remains compulsively watchable throughout.
Pacino plays Tony Montana, a Cuban refugee (thrown out by Castro),
who arrives in Florida with only 'balls of steel and my word',
which he refuses to break for anyone.
After surviving a particularly brutal drug deal-turned-sour (the
now legendary chainsaw scene), Montana attaches himself to the
right godfather and begins rising through the ranks, surviving
double cross after double cross to eventually take control.
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Yet in the drug-obsessed, and materialism-fixated early Eighties,
Montana begins to fall victim to the trappings of his lifestyle,
making decisions while high on cocaine and spending money like
water. Hopelessly protective of his sexually active sister, Mary
Elizabeth Mastrantonio, and unable to control his doped-up girlfriend,
Michelle Pfeiffer, Montana eventually falls foul of the wrong
enemies, culminating in a wild shoot-out at his mansion, in which
he is eventually slain.
At three hours, Scarface is a frequently difficult journey through
heady excess. Where the Godfather was a thoughtful and inspired
look at the gangster lifestyle, as lived through a dynasty, Scarface
was an empty, cold and violent opus, which felt bloated by stylistic
excess.
And while several of its scenes have entered movie folklore (such
as that opening gun fight and the 'say hello to my little friend'
finale), its appeal is a lot less alluring.
Pacino, as ever, is mesmerising, positively chewing the scenery,
as the despicable Montana, whose dubious values eventually lead
to his downfall.
Yet with so few characters to genuinely root for, or sympathise
with, the Scarface experience is a somewhat vacuous one. Fun in
places, yet ultimately soulless.
It belongs in the Eighties and has a cool retro feel about it,
but it is very much a triumph of style over substance, held together
by the masterful Pacino.
That said, there is still a kick to be had from that finale!
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