The Illusion of the American Dream in Godfather I (1972)
I've watched The Godfather I more than a dozen times, and every time I did, there was always something new I discovered. Be it Michael's gaze, the dim room in the first scene, or those oranges.
When I was younger, I wrote essays largely on the what-ifs—the alternate reality in which Michael Corleone gets his happy ending with Apollonia in Sicily, never to return to America. That idea struck me deeply, because a lot of things could have gone right. Almost. But they just didn't. Now, much older, I've learned to accept Michael's fate—one that mirrors the "lesser" lives some Americans live— because the idealized version of it has been lost. The idealized version of freedom and equality the American Dream supposedly offers, that is.
From the opening scene, the film already suggests that people often turn to alternative forms of justice due to the ineffectiveness of the legal system. In that scene, Bonasera seeks justice from Don Corleone because the court failed to deliver true justice for his daughter. In Bonasera's eyes, the law was too lenient on acts of violence against women. So her case establishes the idea that true equality doesn't exist.
This dissatisfaction with the justice system is transferred to the film's protagonist, Michael Corleone. Michael initially held a different idea of justice—that justice should be served by following the law and allowing the legal system to deliver verdicts for wrongful actions. He saw violence during the war, and this experience hardened his resolve to choose the law rather than outright violence. He wanted no part in the family business and avoided it.
But reality is cruel. Police officers and authorities—the very people meant to uphold the law—conspire within a corrupt system, nearly killing his father. Later, when Michael tries to start a new life in Sicily and seeks refuge from all the violence and his family's criminal legacy, his real love, Apollonia, is tragically murdered. So is Michael's brother. These experiences deeply shape Michael’s thinking, making him cynical and leading him to believe that he must take justice into his own hands.
Michael's transformation—from an idealistic war hero to a disillusioned, ruthless mafia lord—stems from his changing perception of the American Dream, especially justice.
That scene when he told his second wife, "Who's being naive, Kay?" shows a different Michael—one who is now ready to avenge his brother's and Apollonia's deaths. And he did. He did it in an ironic way, too, as he was inside the church praying while his men went on a killing spree against his enemies. But that's a powerful juxtaposition that shows Michael's public declaration of the moral corruption he has finally embraced.
In the end, Michael becomes a reflection of his father—a man who sacrifices morality for survival and power. Yet, unlike Vito Corleone, who still values family loyalty, Michael rejects not only the legal system but also the very ideals he once held.
The total abandonment of values.
Maybe that's why I end up watching The Godfather again.
Because I've known people like Michael—people who once believed in justice, opportunity, and equality, yet these things remained unattainable to them.