“Dog Day Afternoon” (1975)
Progressive, deeply moving, thrilling, and sensuous (you can practically feel the heat and smell the sweat coming off of the screen), Sidney Lumet’s masterfully constructed thriller is a powder keg of a film, and a large portion of that comes from Pacino’s commanding performance as Sonny. Right from the beginning – as the ringleader of this bank heist gone awry – Sonny knows things did not go according to plan, and doubles-down on it, also knowing it’s not going to end up the way he wants to in the end. The movie grips you as a hostage film, but once Sonny’s real motivations come out – that the money is to pay for his lover’s sex change operation – it becomes a less hostile and more empathetic look at how far someone will go for the one they love. And even if Sonny doesn’t succeed, the truth will at least come out. Not only is the film itself complex, but Pacino’s performance is one of his most complex, as a man facing doom but keeping up the guise that suggests that he is in control. – RO
“Bobby Deerfield” (1977)
“Bobby Deerfield” stars Pacino as a narcissistic race car driver who falls in love with a terminally-ill woman played by Marthe Keller. While not well received by critics at the time, some critics called the film schmaltzy, the Sydney Pollack-directed race-car romance did appeal to Roger Ebert who gave it 3 stars, describing it “a big, slick melodrama that knows exactly what it wants to accomplish and does so with great craft.” Ebert acknowledges “Deerfield’s” unabashed tearjerker tendencies and yet Ebert disagrees with the consensus critical opinion, saying that he appreciated the film’s “willingness to go for the grand gesture, to play it big.” Admittedly, ‘Deerfield’ isn’t exactly super compelling, but Pacino is always watchable. Slow moving and talky, “Bobby Deerfield” goes for an “European arthouse thing,” and Pollack never nails it. And as such includes such bizarre scenes as one where Pacino does a Mae West impression, and another where a woman tells Pacino that she doesn’t give a damn whether or not he wants an omelet, she’s gonna make him an omelet anyway. These scenes don’t play as high art, but they do end up contributing to the general sense of atonal weirdness that pervades “Bobby Deerfield” at the very least a curiosity that you might want to check off your list. —EF
“…And Justice For All” (1979)
A courtroom drama that redefined courtroom dramas for the ‘70s– the line “you’re out of order! The whole trial’s out of order!” has been parodied countless times in pop culture media including a memorable send-up on “The Simpsons” — filmmaker Norman Jewison’s “…And Justice For All” may feel fairly familiar now, but it’s only because it helped contemporize the virtuous idea of upholding the law and the righteous, principled lawyers who want to ensure justice is carried out in a grittier, more realistic setting. But it’s a lot funnier than you may think. Blackly satirical in its blistering indictment of the American justice system, practically rendered as an oxymoron in the movie, “…And Justice For All” actually resembles the work of Hal Ashby, Jewison’s protégé and editor who left him in 1969 to start his own career. It’s dead serious and grave, but also quite funny and sometimes scathingly amusing. About an ethical lawyer (Pacino), blackmailed into defending a repulsive Judge, whom he loathes, accused of brutally assaulting and raping a young woman (John Forsythe). Co-starring Jack Warden as a suicidal Judge and a-then fully coiffed Jeffrey Tambor as unstable Pacino’s law partner, “…And Justice For All,” straddles the line between comedy and drama, but it can feel slightly schizoid at times. While the movie perhaps isn’t quite as essentially as the rest of his oeuvre, Pacino was still justly nominated for Best Actor Academy Award. A biting look at corruption and how, money, greed and power distort and corrode the wheels of justice, ‘Justice’ may veer in tone occasionally, but when its firing on all cylinders and at its coherent best, the drama never wavers to Pacino’s relatively restrained and ardent performance. – RP
“Cruising” (1980)
A grimy serial killer crime drama set amongst the backdrop of the underground gay S&M subculture of New York City, “Cruising” was a bit of a comedown after William Friedkin’s terrific run of “The French Connection,” “The Exorcist,” and “Sorcerer.” However, minor Friedkin – coupled with a prime Pacino – is still worth seeking out. Pacino plays Steve Burns, a cop who goes undercover to track a killer who has been killing gay men who resemble Burns’ physicality. The two keys to the moderate successes of “Cruising” is the relationship between Burns and Ted (Don Scardino), a playwright who Burns befriends when he moves to his undercover apartment, and a dance scene at the leather bar midway through the movie. Until that point, Burns is awkward and hesitant during all of his encounters, coming across as suspicious. In this scene, Burns feels the music and lets his confidence radiate, and in doing so, both surrenders himself over to this facade he is portraying, but also comes into question with his own sexuality. The ambiguous ending does the film zero favors, but until that point, it is a compulsively watchable, if disjointed, crime procedural. – RO
“Scarface” (1983)
It would be difficult to put anything ahead of “Scarface” in terms of Pacino’s showiest, larger-than-life performance. Tony Montana’s image has been plastered across dorm room’s all over the country, inspired hip-hop concept albums, and has influenced other film characters, all of whom only remember the first two-thirds of the film and forget how it ends for Montana. “Scarface” is partially a sneak peek into the “HOOAH” phase of his career that would come in the wake of his Oscar win for “Scent of a Woman,” but the over-the-top aspects of Montana are perfectly harmonious with Brian De Palma’s bold and broad satire of the American dream. It’s less of a performance and more of a vessel for capitalistic ideals, and through the lens of 2018 eyes, the whitewashing is potentially problematic, but it would be difficult to imagine anyone else screaming “SAY HELLO TO MY LIL’ FRIEND!” with such fervor as Pacino. – RO