This premise of drawing a temporal parallel between father and son, showing the ascension of both one and the other, manages to establish an excellent philosophical analysis about the relationship that exists between the choices of one over the other. While Vito Corleone (Robert De Niro), moved by love for the newly started family, makes his business grow based on the game of waist and punctual demonstrations of power; Michael finds strength and constant intimidation the best way to keep things "under control" and thus preserve the family name, the memory of his father and the safety of his wife and children. And it is precisely at this point that we observe the son making the mistakes that the father avoided. Michael is much more moved by the blind obstinacy of duty to the past than by the yearning to build something solid for the future. He wants to finish what his father started. This becomes perfectly clear as the film progresses and the stories intertwine. While facing the hatred of other families and the persecution of the Senate that seeks in every way to exterminate the parallel power that the mafia represents, Michael does not realize that the reason that, in the speech, he uses as a justification for his questionable actions, is flowing among his fingers. What would it be? Yes, your family.

This is one of the best conflicts in the film, by the way. More than the fierce arguments between Michael's lawyers and the politicians who pursue him; more than the shots that are exchanged between your generals; the "battles" carried out by his family are the center of the plot. Coppola achieves the feat of presenting interesting developments for each character, to a lesser or greater degree, allowing his actors to stand out in their roles. Part II, however, brings new directions to most of them, taking everyone to a higher level: even more mature, Al Pacino gives new touches of paranoia to Michael Corleone; Diane Keaton as the wife, Kay Corleone, stands out. Revealing the nuances present in a woman left aside, Keaton conquers us through the construction of the phases that the end of a marriage goes through. She starts faithful to her husband, but as he gets lost in the world of the mafia, the efforts she stars in are exhausted, as well as the love she once had for that man; Strasberg proves what an "Method" actor is capable of by bringing cynicism and bitterness beneath Hyman Roth's calm facade; and John Cazale is the greatest asset of all, winning the chance to turn his character's apparent stupidity into a particularly tragic figure. Despite all its epic scope and its many bumps, Part II manages to appear more intimate by following these characters.

Vito Corleone's origin is magnificently well built. The reconstruction of that historical period, both in Sicily and in New York, brings a strong poetic air to the film. Combining this with the opera atmosphere that the original already possessed, the result is a magnificent cultural and social painting - merits of director of photography Gordon Willis who, like his predecessor, manages, with an almost theatrical light, to assertively portray the tense environment of history. Counting the arrival of Italian immigrants to New York, the film shows how Vito (played by Robert De Niro) developed and what his motivations were, as well as those of several other secondary characters, such as the gangster Clemenza, his partner at the beginning of the formation of the Corleone empire. These leaps in time and the impeccable reconstructions of the period also help to create a romantic panorama of America at the beginning of the 20th century. The temporal reconstruction in the flashbacks is also to be admired, all enhanced by the magnificent soundtrack of Nino Rota and Carmine Coppola, creating new Italian themes based on the musical notes of the first film - the result is epic.

The current Don Corleone is not in serious danger of life - to the viewer he is considered to be a practically invincible figure. Mike's real fear is losing his family, something that is made clear in a remarkable dialogue with his mother, in which she comforts him by saying: "you can never lose your family". It is interesting to note that since his transformation into this monstrous figure it is the first time that we have seen him really afraid. As much as his apparent sociopathy dominates his disposition towards the world in the vast majority of scenes, Al Pacino's work ensures that we see the care that this man has regarding the blood of his blood. The progression of the storyline, however, continues to transform the character - this time in a subtler way than in the first film, of course - taking him from a ruthless figure to an even more traumatized man, who opts for the dark and the silence, abandoning practically all the warmth he showed towards his family.

The first of Mike's impacts on the film, of course, comes from his brother Fredo's betrayal and the discovery of that fact practically takes all of Michael's air. What is interesting, however, is the way in which the script by Francis and Mario Puzo does not leave this factor only in black and white. Fredo didn't know that they would try to kill his brother and he clearly regrets it later. John Cazale, who had a background character in the previous work, gives a real show. "I should take care of you" he repeats to his younger brother, at the same time that he practically shakes in the reclining chair and shakes his hands without the slightest force on his wrist. Here we have the same fragile and childish figure from the first film, leaving us with nothing but a real pity for his final destiny, Michael Corleone's greatest sin.

The second impact comes from the breakup with Kay and the revelation that she miscarried her son. Al Pacino is an actor who notably likes to perform scenes in which his character explodes in anger and here we have the best of the entire trilogy. It is worth noting that the loss of his calm in those moments reiterates his concern for the family. The monster that Michael becomes is practically undone here, when in his expression we can feel all his anger showing. There is a human behind this figure and it is sad to see that, after this explosion, he falls even more, almost completely burying that young veteran we met at the beginning of The Godfather.

The tension generated in the viewer, however, is not limited to Michael's downfall. Coppola knows how to work with precision the suspense of these two hundred minutes of projection. Since the initial problems, we do not know who the protagonist really considers the culprit for the attempt on his life. Was it Hyman Roth (Lee Strasberg, actor suggested by none other than Pacino) or Frank Pentangelli (Michael V. Gazzo)? Or both? The audience is left in the dark for much of the feature and, ironically, when the villain reveals himself the other also becomes one, leading us to audiences seeking to incriminate the Corleones, an element that is inserted masterfully into the story by using the parallel narrative, that oscillates between Vito and Mike.

Both narratives, as they walk and reveal the fate that their protagonists will have, also close this excellent assessment of family inheritance. In Michael's life everything goes wrong. The choices he makes - no more spoilers; watch the movie, please - lead you to a path of guilt and loneliness. With Vito, on the other hand, we have a beautiful scene of the family gathered in the dining room waiting for him. As much as his son tried, he is not like Don Corleone. The overlap that takes us out of his dark room and takes us to the joyful father's dinner appears as a reminder, a reflection, the realization that he failed in his mission. He did not become the man his father dreamed he was. Coppola's option of making sequences in the past and present longer works perfectly, making the rhythm of the work easy to follow. Each scene acts as a chapter within the narrative, in the director's own words, as a short film. The fragmentation of the projection is then disguised by the aforementioned contemplative moments that perfectly unite the past and the present. Disliking one side of the story is almost unthinkable, while both manage to engage us from beginning to end. Michael's perspective continues his sad fall, while Vito's introduces elements that we learned to love in the first film, in addition to offering well-positioned comic reliefs within the heavy climate that has been established since the opening minutes of the projection.

The Godfather: Part II achieves the impossible: to overcome his predecessor with a cohesive text, very inspiring performances and excellent direction. Disguised as a film about the mafia, in fact what we see is a study of family complexities. It is definitely Coppola's best work. Part II may not be superior to the first part of Coppola's trilogy, but it is as powerful a film as it is ambitious - for both good and evil - and definitely one of the best and most successful sequences in cinema.