both played by De Niro for God knows what reason — is turned into a dense, unfocussed and confusing history lesson that rambles on and on to middling effect.
The plot goes nowhere glacially. Underdeveloped side characters are so far to the side, they’re out of frame. At least it starts out with a bang.
Vito, the former head of the Luciano crime family, puts a hit on Frank, the current one, in 1957. Frank is shot point-blank in the head in his Central Park West building’s lobby — and survives.
I wish he hadn’t. Because then the rest of the tiresome movie is Frank insisting that he’s gonna get out of the business and retire to Italy to please his wife Bobbie (Debra Messing).
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