This adaptation of the award-winning play of the same name is so packed with brilliant acting from an unparalleled ensemble, that it is of course difficult to point to "just" one performance, one interpretation of the role. However, it must be said that Pacino's arrogance and his infallible intensity in the role of the real estate agent Ricky Roma stand out among all the great performances in this wonderful gem of a movie.
In the early '70s, Pacino was a veritable hurricane of presence, intensity and vulnerability. His on screen persona was as nakedly raw and stripped down as few actors are today and like De Niro in Taxi Driver in particular, it was early roles early in his career that defined Pacino's acting and his incredible capabilities. Playing New York cop Frank Serpico in Sydney Lumet's iconic thriller, Pacino's character stumbled upon corruption that had made its way to the top of the police force, which drives him to act, and most of this film is a pure performance from the leading star.
The way Pacino convinced in the role of the blind ex-military Lieutenant Frank Slade in this classic gave him an Oscar for Best Supporting Actor and even if the movie itself feels a bit dated 30 years later, it is still the case that Pacino dominates every frame he appears in. The way he almost spasmodically controls the pace and dynamics of the dialogue is still as mesmerising today as it was at its premiere.
The Sydney Lumet & Al Pacino duo was as successful and creatively astute in the 70s as Pacino and Coppola were with The Godfather films, which becomes clear if only in the somewhat overlooked Dog Day Afternoon, which still impresses. As bank robber Sonny Wortzik, Pacino plays manic and mentally broken in such a convincing and poignant way that it's almost impossible to believe that the man in the picture isn't like that, in real life. Pacino is captivating here in a way that he has rarely been since.
The way Pacino portrays Michael Corleone with razor-sharp perfection in Coppola's masterful sequel, must of course be rewarded with a first place on his own list. Anything else would be a disservice, if you ask me. Because there is such amazing depth in this interpretation that everything else he has done pales in comparison. Corleone goes from the young man whose identity oscillates between an unwilling criminal capable of remorse and forgiveness, with a functioning conscience, to that ruthless mob boss whose conscience barely exists. He does it so tightly and with such little means that his later movie outbursts of waving arms and roaring voice seem like another man, another human being.