The Godfather Analysis: The Rise and Fall of Michael Corleone [Corruption Character Arc Explained]

In the annals of cinematic history, few films have captured the intricacies of human nature and the corrosive power of ambition quite like Francis Ford Coppola’s “The Godfather.” At the heart of this epic saga lies the tragic journey of Michael Corleone, portrayed brilliantly by Al Pacino. His transformation from a principled war hero to a ruthless mafia don is a masterclass in character development, specifically what storytelling experts call the “corruption arc.”

In this in-depth analysis, we’ll dissect Michael’s character, tracing his descent into darkness and examining how his choices lead to a bitter, yet undeniably powerful, ending. We’ll explore the elements that make his corruption arc so compelling and how it contributes to the film’s enduring legacy. So, grab your cannoli, leave the gun, and let’s dive into the world of the Corleone family.

Understanding Character Arcs: Wants vs. Needs

Before we delve into Michael’s story, it’s crucial to understand the driving forces behind any protagonist’s journey: their wants and needs. These elements are the backbone of character development and are particularly poignant in “The Godfather.”

Wants: The External Goals

A character’s wants are their conscious, external goals. They’re specific to the character and often drive the plot forward. Think of Arthur Fleck in “Joker,” whose primary want is to become a successful stand-up comedian and bring laughter to the world.

Needs: The Internal Struggles

In contrast, needs are internal goals that characters often don’t recognize. They’re universal human desires like love, acceptance, or personal growth. In “Joker,” Arthur’s need is to address his mental health issues, a struggle he tragically fails to overcome.

In most stories, characters achieve some combination of their wants and needs by the end. This balance determines the type of ending they get. But in “The Godfather,” Michael Corleone’s story takes a darker turn.

The Four Types of Story Endings

To appreciate the bitterness of Michael’s ending, it’s helpful to understand the four primary types of story resolutions:

  1. Sweet: The protagonist achieves both their wants and needs. Think Marty McFly in “Back to the Future.”
  2. Bittersweet: The protagonist gets what they want but not what they need.
  3. Semi-sweet: The protagonist doesn’t get what they want but achieves what they need.
  4. Bitter: The protagonist achieves neither their wants nor their needs.

Michael’s story in “The Godfather” is a textbook example of a bitter ending. But what makes it so powerful is the masterful way the film sets up his corruption from the very first scene.

Michael Corleone’s Corruption Arc: A Tragic Descent

The Wedding Scene: Introducing Michael’s True Self

The film opens with the wedding of Michael’s sister, Connie. Amidst the celebration, we get our first glimpse into the Corleone family business. More importantly, we’re introduced to Michael’s initial want and his “characteristic moment.”

Michael tells his girlfriend Kay about how his father made a man “an offer he couldn’t refuse.” He recounts the story with an unsettling indifference:

“Luca Brasi held a gun to his head, and my father assured him that either his brains or his signature would be on the contract. That’s a true story.”

This casual retelling is our first clue that Michael, despite his protestations (“That’s my family, Kay. It’s not me.”), has the capacity for the darkness that will consume him.

The Normal Life: Michael’s Original Want

Initially, Michael wants nothing to do with his family’s criminal empire. He’s a decorated war hero, a college graduate, and he’s in love with Kay. His desire for a normal life is evident when he says:

“That’s my family, Kay. It’s not me.”

This line encapsulates his original want: to live a life separate from the corruption and violence of his family. It’s a want that will tragically become his unattainable need.

The Hospital Scene: Crossing the Threshold

Michael’s descent begins when his father is shot and left unprotected at the hospital. He takes charge, moving his father to safety and even thwarting another assassination attempt. It’s here that we see Michael’s potential for leadership and violence.

“Just lie here, Pop. I’ll take care of you now. I’m with you now.”

This scene marks Michael’s first step into the family business. He even kisses his father’s hand, a sign of ultimate respect in the mafia world. It’s a subtle but pivotal moment in his corruption arc.

The New Want: Protecting the Family

After the hospital incident, Michael’s want shifts. He no longer desires a normal life; now, he wants to protect his family. This change is evident when he volunteers to kill Sollozzo and McCluskey:

“It’s not personal, Sonny. It’s strictly business.”

This chilling line shows that Michael has embraced the cold, calculating nature required in his new world. His original want (a normal life) has now become his unattainable need.

The Climax: Michael’s Complete Corruption

The Baptism Scene: A Brutal Juxtaposition

The film’s climax is a masterful example of dramatic irony. As Michael stands in church, renouncing Satan and pledging his soul to goodness during his godchild’s baptism, his men carry out a series of brutal murders across the city.

“Michael Francis Rizzi, do you renounce Satan? I do renounce him.”

The juxtaposition is stark. While Michael verbally rejects evil, his actions show he’s fully embraced it. This scene encapsulates his complete moral corruption.

The Final Lies: A Facade of Normalcy

In the film’s closing scenes, we see the full extent of Michael’s transformation. When Kay asks if he ordered his brother-in-law’s murder, Michael lies:

“Don’t ask me about my business, Kay.”

His original want, a normal life with Kay, is now just a facade. His marriage is built on lies, and his soul is irredeemably lost.

The Bitter Ending: A Moral Quandary

By the film’s end, Michael has achieved neither his original want (a normal life) nor his need (to maintain his moral integrity). It’s a classic bitter ending. Yet, as viewers, we can’t help but feel a twisted sense of victory.

This complexity is what makes “The Godfather” a cinematic masterpiece. We understand that Michael sacrificed his soul for his family’s survival. In a world where family is everything, his actions, while morally reprehensible, are also understandable.

This moral quandary is what elevates “The Godfather” from a simple gangster movie to a profound exploration of human nature. It asks us: how far would we go to protect what we love?

Lessons for Storytellers: Crafting Compelling Characters

Michael Corleone’s corruption arc offers valuable lessons for writers and filmmakers:

  1. Establish Character Early: Michael’s indifference in the opening scene sets the stage for his fall.
  2. Balance Wants and Needs: The tension between Michael’s wants and needs drives the story.
  3. Show, Don’t Tell: Michael’s actions (like kissing his father’s hand) speak louder than words.
  4. Use Contrast for Impact: The baptism scene’s juxtaposition of holiness and violence is unforgettable.
  5. Embrace Moral Complexity: The most powerful stories, like real life, aren’t black and white.

Conclusion: The Enduring Power of a Bitter Ending

“The Godfather” is more than a crime saga; it’s a profound study of human nature. Michael Corleone’s journey from war hero to mafia don is a stark reminder that even the most principled among us can be corrupted by power, ambition, and misplaced loyalty.

His bitter ending, where he loses both his soul and his chance at a normal life, resonates because it’s painfully human. We may not become gangsters, but we all face choices that test our morals. “The Godfather” shows us the high cost of choosing wrong.

In the end, Michael’s story is a cautionary tale. It reminds us that the path to hell is often paved with good intentions, and that sometimes, the price of power is everything we hold dear. It’s a bitter pill to swallow, but one that makes “The Godfather” an enduring masterpiece of American cinema.