The Mafia movie/TV show has become so deeply ingrained in the culture as to
appear to have been here forever. The Sopranos, Goodfellas, The Last Don,
Donnie Brasco, Lansky-all staples of cable and theatre, generally sure-fire
box office gold. Given that La Cosa Nostra's roots in this country go back to
the advent of Prohibition or earlier, you'd think that the saga of the
Sicilian struggle would be a long-running theme in celluloid.

It isn't. 1972's The Godfather was the opening shot, the trendsetter. "The Brotherhood
with Kirk Douglas, that was probably the first picture like that," says Al Martino, crooner
extraordinaire and the actor that played Johnny Fontane in Franic Ford Coppola's
Oscar-winning adaptation of Mario Puzo's 1969 best-seller. "Good movie, but it didn't
start the whole thing off. No, the reason The Godfather did what it did is because of the
book - the book was a monster and after it came out and the movie was going to be made,
all of the people that read it couldn't wait to see the film. The book laid the foundation."

Martino is sitting on a plush sofa in his Beverly Hills home, located
directly across the street, ironically enough, from Hollywood's true OG
Edward G. Robinson's house.  Even more ironic is Martino's prized possession,
Bugsy Siegel's bar, which now installed as his bar in his recreation room,
along with photos of the singer with Marilyn Monroe, gold records and
standard career ephemera. The 71-year old casino singer and major hit-maker
from the 50's and 60's has been through the Godfather ringer a million times,
it seems, in interviews. A tough, pugnacious gentleman from the streets of
Philly, Martino pulls no punches when he speaks of the movie and his singing
career. "I might have become a much bigger star, you know, a contender, like
Brando said in On the Waterfront, but I've never been able to not speak my
mind, and even if it cost me, I don't regret it," says the singer.

Martino began his career in the 40's, shortly after leaving the Navy. "I was
a signalman on Iwo Jima," Martino says. "Co-ordinated the merchant ships
bringing in supplies to the troops, I joined at 14. Got a stranger to co-sign
for me, posing as my father, after I'd ran away from home, went right into
the Navy. In 1952, I had my first hit, "Here In My Heart" on our own label
BBS, the initials of our backers - went #1 for 8 weeks!"

Which is when Martino had his first run in with "The Boys", as he calls organized crime.
"The story parallels Johnny Fontane's story," he says. "A few underworld figures from
New York came to Philly to see my manager, to make him an offer he couldn't refuse.
My manager stepped aside after he was threatened. So, now these figures became
my managers." Later, Martino reveals that one of these figures was the notorious
Albert Anastasia, whose murder in 1958 (while sitting in a barber's chair in New York)
was irrefutable proof to the Kefauver Commission that the long-rumored existence
of Italian crime families was true.

"I exiled myself to England, because I signed a note based on assumed future
earnings that I couldn't pay off, after I fired these guys," says Martino.
"Had to stay there for seven years, out of sight out of mind, career over in
America, I thought. I came back to work for 20th Century Fox and when the
Boys' lawyers sent me this demand letter for the 75K they said I owed them, I
never responded. The Don of Philadelphia, Angelo Bruno, negotiated a deal
with Anastasia for me to come back, and with Albert gone, deal gone."

"I went to work for Skinny D'Amato in Atlantic City, after Bruno made a few
calls to get me work," says Martino. "Then I had a few hits, got on Dick Clark,
Alan Freed, went to 20th Century Fox, Capitol." At that point, Martino had a string
of enormous pop hits including "Daddy's Little Girl" (still a wedding request favorite,
according to his wife) and his theme song, "Spanish Eyes", in 1965.
By the late 60's/early 70's, the hits tailed off.

Martino did one appearance on Adam-12 as a pilot, his only acting role until
he was hipped to the impending casting of The Godfather. "I never read for
the role of Johnny Fontane," he says. "Phyllis MacGuire of the MacGuire
Sisters calls me and says that there's a role you can play out of that book,
so I got it and read it. She knew they were gonna make that movie. I called
her back and asked who was making the movie and they told me about Al Ruddy,
the producer and how he was doing it for Paramount. I tracked him down,
couldn't get a meeting - Figured it was a bust out. Stroke of luck, we're
walking down Westwood Blvd and I recognized this young girl from way back,
we started talking and I find out she's Ruddy's secretary! Small world! I was
opening at the Desert Inn in Vegas, called Al, walked into his office, told
him what I wanted. Ruddy and I hung out together, he says, you got the part!
I had it locked in since day one. No one else had a chance."

Which was probably the basis for Martino's feud with Coppola, a man that
Martino cannot speak about with grimacing. "Frances never wanted me, didn't
think I was an actor," says Martino.  " I don't know who he wanted. I was mad
at him for years, it took twenty years for him to apologize and for me to
agree to be in Godfather III. Coppola was furious about being stuck with me,
as a result he never gave me full coverage in the movie, it's either the side
of my head or profiles, only. It was a bad situation - the director has
autonomy over casting. If Coppola hadn't had his way, Brando wouldn't have
been cast - you wouldn't believe the people that wanted that part-Attorneys
like Mel Belli, F. Lee Bailey, English guys like Lawrence Olivier, they all
wanted that part of Don Corleone!"

"Brando was the nicest guy on that film," says Martino. "I never say a bad
word about him, wonderful guy."

Ruddy even sent Martino to Germany to speak to Anthony Quinn about the
Don's role, prior to Brando's casting. Told him that the role was his. " 'I want a
million dollars' was his reaction," says Martino. "Told him it wasn't gonna happen
- no one got more than scale and per diem on that picture. He told me that he had
three homes and he needed the money for the upkeep on those estates. Brando was
on the sidelines, waiting-like I said, everyone wanted that part, even for free!"

Even Sinatra. Despite Sinatra's endless efforts to quash the film (because he didn't like
the way that the Fontane character was, believing it to be based on him), Sinatra's manager,
Mickey Rudin, told him to quit fighting and start joining. "I was in Ruddy's office when the
call came in from Frank," says Martino. "He asked for the part of the Don. Albert was
shaking, he was so nervous, but he steeled himself and told Frank that Brando had the
part - that was the end of it."

Sinatra, according to Martino, was one of the main sources of friction between
Coppola and himself. "Sinatra wanted the part out. Paramount wasn't afraid of him,
they were afraid of an injunction by Sinatra that would shut the movie down. So they
cut a deal - initially, they tried to write the whole part out. But then, the film wouldn't
make sense, the horse's head and the phrase 'make him an offer he don't refuse' don't fit.
So they cut my part down 80% to placate him. And Sinatra still wasn't happy and tried
to have me muscled out of the part - but I had muscle of my own. Phyllis MacGuire called
Sam Giancana for me, and Sam told Frank to back off and that was the end of it!"

Basically, Giancana's intercession got and kept Martino the part in the film.

(At this point, Judy Martino turns ashen white, as this story has never seen the light of day.
Her husband poo-poohs the whole thing. "Those people are long gone and I wasn't afraid
of them when they were alive anyway-don't worry about it!")

Martino believes that the mystique of the movie took on a life of its own.
"James Caan as Sonny, he isn't even Italian, he's Jewish," says Martino. "You were
indoctrinated to think Caan was Sonny - he even curled his hair to match the book.
The book was the whole thing - Paramount didn't even have faith in it, the film was
budgeted at 4 million, Coppola got fired three times on the film, it almost didn't get made,
and when it came in at 13 million, they went nuts, a movie that went on to make a half a
billion dollars! They looked at the dailies and they didn't know, they bitched about Caan
and Pacino, they thought about replacing them, ridiculous. The story of the Godfather
made the movie - anyone could have been in that movie - Caan, Pacino, all unknowns.
Anyone could have played any of those parts!"

Martino turned down the role of Fontane in Godfather 2 after Coppola informed him that
the part would consist of Fontane's rise to fame including a five story picture of Fontane in
front of the Paramount in New York (which was the marketing technique used in the early
40's to make Sinatra a star). That ended it right there. "I was sick and tired of hearing from
Sinatra and sick of Coppola - I didn't want anymore grief about how the part was Frank,
it wasn't. So I said no." Eventually, Coppola and Martino buried the hatchet over Godfather III.
"Coppola had the sequel in mind while shooting the first movie," says Martino. "But there's no
book at all for III-for the sequel, there was film shot already from the first sessions."

Mad, madder, maddest. Martino's polar opposite on the set as well as 29 years
after the fact is 58-year old Gianni Russo, aka "Carlo Rizzi", the traitorious son-in-law.
Affable and ever-smiling, the former jeweller, night-club owner and runner for notorious
mobster Frank Costello has nothing but fond memories for The Godfather except to comment
that, "It was my first picture and my biggest. I've done Any Given Sunday, StripTease, tons of
movies, but that part was the first and the biggest - funny, huh?"

Like Martino, Russo was no actor. What he was, like Martino, was well-connected.
"Paramount was gonna lose a lot of the locations in New York, there was all that Italian
Anti-Defamation League stuff going on, a mess. So, my friend, Joe Colombo (who was murdered
in New York City's Columbus Circle right around the time of the film's premiere) straightened it out
for them - and of course, Joe's people were taken care of. I was a minor celebrity in New York for
my commercials, that I shot featuring myself, and I had a studio set up, so I shot tapes of me reading
for Sonny, Michael and Carlo's parts. Sent the tape over in a Bentley with an Asian girl chauffering it,
because I heard that Ruddy dug Asian girls. And I got the part of Carlo, certainly Joe's, uhhm,
influence helped some".

Ever the enterpriser, Russo set up the catering for the shoots on Staten Island, using his people as
beverage suppliers and bakers for the cast, crews and hordes of extras. He also used his considerable
skills as negotiator for the famous fight scene between himself and James Caan, on East 119th Street
in "Italian Harlem". "We had thirty seven marks for that scene, 37 we had to hit," he says. "Took days
to rehearse it. But what they didn't realize was that in 1971, all of those tenements on the street had
air conditioners sticking out of the windows-what were they gonna do to get rid of them, not to mention,
get the people not to wander on the set dressed like it was '71.  So I told Frances, you gotta pay these
people off, or else they'll throw shit out their windows, not move their AC's, the works-that was what
I did all the time anyway."

Russo still blanches over the thought of the famous fight. "Coppola left that
missed punch, where Jimmy swung at me and missed. When they put it out again
at the reunion a few years back, I couldn't' believe it, it was still in there!"

Despite his tough guy image and street genuineness (which he claims was one
the reasons that he and Caan didn't get along, Caan was smitten with
gangsters, Russo basically was one. Russo says that Caan "enjoyed beating the
shit out of me in that scene more than was natural, y'know?" Russo also
verifies the old rumor that many of the bit parts and featured extras were
actually "The boys" themselves, including Lenny Montana, aka Luca Brasi.
"After the film was over he went back to wrestling and collecting loans,"
says Russo smiling. "Greatest guy in the world") , Russo had a real problem
with his scene beating the Don's daughter, played by Talia Shire. "She was
playing this pregnant girl, she was the director's sister, I never hit a
woman and now this?" he says, laughing. "I guess I wasn't giving it my all.
Talia says to me that I gotta completely get into it, but I was holding back,
so they completely padded her out so I could really wail on her. I did,
too - they cut out part of the scene where I smash her head against the
bath-tub, which is where her face gets all black and blue."

Russo did nearly kill someone on the set for real, however. "In the scene
where Richard Castellano (as Clemenza) strangles me and I kick out the
windows of the car, we had a problem. The glass wouldn't shatter right, it
was sugar glass and it looked hokey, as I was leaning back with Richard
pulling me up. So, what they did was put lead in my shoes, make them heavy
enough to shatter real glass. Anyway, as the car pulls away, with this
teamsters driving and a cameraman on the roof, I accidentally kicked the
driver in the head with these shoes and knocked him out. Had to stop the car
myself before we were all killed!"

Nowadays, Russo does nothing but act, he's done directing, he's run
businesses, but he's finished with all but taking movie roles and savoring.
"My trusty companion is my cell-phone", he says. "I love to work and I love
to act. One of my only regrets is that they were talking about casting me as
Carlo's son, seeking vengeance for Michael's murdering him, in Godfather III
that never came about-I've aged OK and I think I could have pulled it off. "

Why not? As Martino puts it, "the movie was larger than life, it was powerful
enough to make you believe the impossible was possible - that's why the movie
has that quality, why made guys today quote from the thing, why the Sopranos
are a hit, the works. It had a life of its own,  that's why kids who weren't
even born when it came out are still taken by it - it's magical!"