Why does Al Pacino’s character as a ruthless crime boss in Scarface continue to be idolized even 40 years after its release?


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After forty years since Scarface made its explosive debut in American movie theaters, why does Tony Montana continue to be revered by drug dealers, mafia members, gangsters, rappers, and others who aspire to live lavishly outside the boundaries of the law?

His nearly three-hour biography qualifies as tragedy, the story of a rage-choked cocaine addict with minimal self-control and a possible incest kink who methodically alienates everyone he’s ever held dear until he is gruesomely murdered for his impulsivity and hubris. He spends his twilight years paranoid, tasteless, violent and miserable, equal parts cautionary tale and mad king(pin). He’s not exactly an aspirational figure.

However, it is undeniable that Tony embodies the relentless ambition of the American dream, serving as a symbol for the insatiable greed of Reaganomics in the context of Cuba’s ongoing conflict between communism and capitalism. He fled the country during the Mariel boatlift of 1980 (depicted through archival footage in the opening credits, the first of many stylistic choices made by director Brian De Palma), a mass departure of political prisoners following Castro’s decision to release them from jail. After establishing himself as a key player in the Miami drug scene, fueled by Giorgio Moroder’s pulsating synth beats, Tony breaks records by fully embracing the individualistic mindset of his new country’s founding narrative. He takes what he wants and wants it all. As Trans World Airlines’ motto suggests – a company once led by fellow American iconoclast Howard Hughes, consumed by his own obsessions – The World Is Yours. Even in defeat, Tony goes out on his own terms, embodying the “live free or die” ethos to the very end.

Those in the same profession as Tony have come to terms with the fact that if they live by violence, they will also die by it. However, director Brian De Palma and screenwriter Oliver Stone were able to balance the excitement with a more realistic view. When Scarface was first released, it received negative reviews for its excessive violence, resulting in an X rating from the MPAA for its first four versions. From dismemberment by chainsaw to a final scene filled with bullets, the film was criticized for its over-the-top carnage. However, it is worth considering that the exaggerated nature of the violence may be intentional, as seen in the protagonist’s grandiose lifestyle and ultimate downfall. There is no irony or detachment present to provide a sense of satire, instead the tone is closer to self-parody. This tone is reflected in Tony’s excessive home decor, which follows the belief that “more is more” with black marble everywhere. In this sense, Scarface can be seen as De Palma’s version of Showgirls, another story of a climb to power that showcases shameless hedonism in Las Vegas, now transplanted to Miami.

Al Pacino’s portrayal of Tony is both confusing and enlightening. It falls perfectly in between his impressive performances in the 70s and his exaggerated characterizations in the 90s. He utilizes the same techniques he learned through Method acting, emphasizing spontaneity through his impromptu remarks and explosive physicality. This is fitting for a character like Tony, who instills fear in his enemies and subordinates with a mix of inscrutable stoicism and sudden outbursts of anger, aligning with Pacino’s tendency to dominate his scene partners by constantly questioning them. His method of seducing his boss’ girlfriend consists of incessant talking until she succumbs to his attention.

Throughout the film, an abundance of involuntary repetitive movements threatens to overshadow a talented actor, particularly in his exaggerated portrayal of a Cuban accent. Greeting someone with the phrase “li’l fren” has been overused by countless unfunny individuals, likely due to the simplicity of imitating Pacino’s exaggerated speech patterns. This caricature of Latino identity stands out as the most outdated aspect of an otherwise modern film that delves into themes of violence and foolishness in American culture. Interestingly, the casting of Italian-Americans Pacino and Robert Loggia, as well as Italian-Syrian F Murray Abraham, highlights the interchangeable nature of ethnic immigrants who all struggle for the same ideals of freedom and opportunity.

Al Pacino in Scarface

Upon the release of the film, actual Cubans expressed their disapproval of Tony’s character not for cultural appropriation, but for perpetuating negative stereotypes. The film’s introduction exaggerated the number of criminals among the “Marielitos” who arrived by boat. As a result, the producers felt compelled to add a disclaimer after the credits, clarifying that Cuban-Americans are not a homogenous group. This was likely done before those who criticized the film had the opportunity to see the scene where Tony’s mother scolds him for tarnishing the reputation of Cubans.

The most obvious indication of morality in this film is often overlooked, as the story focuses more on the glamorization of Tony’s actions rather than the consequences of his actions. We do not see the repercussions of Tony’s illegal activities, except for a few significant losses towards the end. The lives lost in his wake are those of insignificant individuals, much like the dispensable henchmen. Similar to The Wolf of Wall Street, which has a devoted fan base that idolizes the protagonist’s lavish lifestyle, Scarface also portrays the allure of extreme wealth and how it can be addicting. For every high, there is a corresponding crash, and Tony Montana’s character is a perfect example of someone addicted to cocaine.

If his dangerously overcharged lifestyle has the luster of fantasy, that’s only because it beats working for a living. His most triumphant moment doesn’t come when he’s finally dispatched his last obstacle to the throne, but rather much earlier, as he and his best friend quit their dead-end dishwashing gigs at a sweltering taco stand and swagger away. They’ve just set out on the path to damnation and for so many classes of the all-American striver harboring dreams of mobility, it’s the only one with an upward incline.

Source: theguardian.com