The Godfather教父 1972 Movie Script

DON CORLEONE:

You take care of your family?

JOHNNY:

Sure.

He glances at SONNY, who makes himself as inconspicuous as he can.

DON CORLEONE:

You look terrible. I want you to eat well, to rest. And spend time with your family. And then, at the end of the month, this big shot will give you the part you want.

JOHNNY:

It's too late. All the contracts have been signed, they're almost ready to shoot.

DON CORLEONE:

I'll make him an offer he can't refuse.

He takes JOHNNY to the door, pinching his cheek hard enough to hurt.

DON CORLEONE:

Now go back to the party and leave it to me.

He closes the door, smiling to himself. Turns to HAGEN.

DON CORLEONE:

When does my daughter leave with her bridegroom?

HAGEN:

They'll cut the cake in a few minutes...leave right after that.

Your new son-in-law, do we give him something important?

DON CORLEONE:

No, give him a living. But never let him know the family's business.

What else, Tom?

HAGEN:

I've called the hospital; they've notified Consiglere Genco's family to come and wait. He won't last out the night.

This saddens the DON. He sighs.

DON CORLEONE:

Genco will wait for me. Santino, tell your brothers they will come with me to the hospital to see Genco. Tell Fredo to drive the big car, and ask Johnny to come with us.

SONNY:

And Michael?

DON CORLEONE:

All my sons.

(to HAGEN) Tom, I want you to go to California tonight. Make the arrangements.

But don't leave until I come back from the hospital and speak to you.

Understood?

HAGEN:

Understood.

EXT DAY:

MALL (SUMMER 1945) Now all the wedding GUESTS excitedly clap their hands over the entrance of the cake: NAZORINE is beaming as he wheels in a serving table containing the biggest, gaudiest, most extravagant wedding cake ever baked, an incredible monument of his gratitude. The CROWD is favorably impressed: they begin to clink their knives or forks against their glasses, in the traditional request for the Bride to cut the cake and kiss the Groom. Louder and louder, five hundred forks hitting five hundred glasses.

EXT DAY:

MALL (SUMMER 1945) Silence.