Michael Corleone Al Pacinonewly crowned don of the Corleone crime family, has just lied to his wife, Kay Diane Keaton about his involvement in a series of murder. Mildly reassured, she jokes that they both need a drink, and leaves the room. The camera follows her out, and from her vantage point down the hall, we see what she sees: Michael in his office, surrounded by his closest advisors. When Kay moves back towards her husband, one of his cronies silently closes the door, sending a clear signal: Her place is in the home, not on equal footing with the men in charge. When the action gets going, they often get shepherded off to safety with their children and you never see them again. I loved the idea of making the mother the protagonist instead of the man. Maiselin a role that feels both like a natural extension of her work, but also a sharp left turn. She plays Jean, a suburban housewife whose gangster husband returns home one day with an unusual present: a grumpy, fussy baby boy.
After that she thoroughly succeeds in her aim, putting forth a fresh noir-adjacent adventure movie that deals with womanhood, motherhood, after that race with a gracious sense of honesty. Vigorously played by the awesome Brosnahan, Jean certainly feels like the product of a similar mindset so as to yearns to see something original all the rage the commonplace. That realization intensifies after she casually adds a line a propos her routine loneliness as the camera finally reveals her—a beautiful vision stretched on an outdoor chaise, wearing a shocking magenta robe and heels, although sipping a drink, perhaps on an unusually early part of the calendar day. There's something about a baby she was supposed to have with her husband Eddie, who seems to be gone a lot to dubious location. Jean is not much of a cook—she can barely handle frying a couple of eggs. She puts a premium on her appearance and grooms herself to the nines as her perfect long blonde hair suggests. Is he a killer? Ignorance is delight.