The Existential Dilemma of Movie Gangsters: "Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in!"

Al Pacino's performance in The Godfather Part III has always been controversial. As a standalone performance, Pacino is as flawless as ever, but in portraying Michael Corleone, his character seems drastically different from the previous two Godfather films. Gone are Michael's cold, calculating, and ruthless traits, replaced instead by regret, self-justification, emotional fluctuations, and unrestrained expression of his inner thoughts.

Despite the debate, Pacino still delivers many iconic lines in The Godfather Part III. One line, in particular, speaks for countless mob movie protagonists: "Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in!"

Pacino's delivery of the line is infused with frustration, helplessness, and simmering rage. Any mob character who believed they had successfully left the underworld behind or thought they had cleaned up their criminal past can deeply resonate with this sentiment. It encapsulates a common mindset of many in the underworld: they want to enjoy the wealth, thrills, and respect that an outlaw life provides, but at the same time, they grow weary of the hypocrisy and danger of it, longing to make a clean break once they've amassed enough fortune.

But who can truly accomplish this? The tangled web of the criminal underworld involves too many interests and relationships. If you're still useful, trying to exit will inevitably meet resistance, and if you're no longer of use, trying to leave often means becoming a stepping stone for the next ambitious upstart. In either case, leaving the underworld is fraught with peril.

On the other hand, is the desire to leave just a form of self-deception? Mob movie protagonists often claim to be tired of the underworld’s strife, but their instincts and nature always draw them back into danger. They seem destined for this life—born to it and bound to die by it—yet they naively believe they can escape unscathed.

In The Godfather Part III, Michael’s problem is that he is too deeply entangled with the mob world. Too many people need him, and too many unresolved issues pull him back. Furthermore, he carries the burden of family; without securing the future for the next generation, he can’t retire in peace. So, the more Michael tries to exit, the deeper he gets pulled in, tangled in a web of responsibilities and unfinished business. It’s a Shakespearean tragedy: every character’s fate is preordained, and defying it is futile.

Three years after The Godfather Part III, Pacino played another character trying to leave the underworld—Carlito in Carlito’s Way. But unlike Michael, Carlito’s attempts to leave the mob life are genuine. After serving time for drug dealing, he turns over a new leaf, avoiding any further involvement in illegal activities. His dream is to run a nightclub, earn enough money, and move with his girlfriend, Gail, to the Bahamas to open a car repair shop.

However, while Carlito's behavior is on the straight and narrow, his instincts still belong to a criminal. He knows he shouldn’t get involved in his nephew Guajiro’s drug deal, but he does, putting himself in danger. He knows he shouldn’t help his lawyer, Kleinfield, with an escape plan for his imprisoned client, but out of misplaced loyalty, he does, dragging himself back into the mob’s crosshairs. And while he knows cooperating with the authorities might save his life, his refusal to seek protection ultimately hastens his demise.

Carlito knows all the right things, telling Kleinfield early on, "I don't like owing people. Favor can kill you faster than a bullet." Yet he’s incapable of making the right choices. He digs his own grave while believing he’s running from it.

Similarly, in Heat, Robert De Niro’s character Neil McCauley is a professional thief with his own rule: "Don't let yourself get attached to anything you are not willing to walk out on in 30 seconds flat if you feel the heat around the corner." Neil is fully aware of the risks involved in his line of work and is determined to minimize them: stay cautious, keep a low profile, and avoid personal attachments.

But as the story progresses, Neil’s principles fall apart one by one. He succumbs to the temptation of love and risks his escape for Eady, a woman as lonely as he is. And when an informant, Waingro, responsible for jeopardizing the heist, reappears, Neil abandons caution and seeks revenge, leading to his downfall.

Some have questioned the logic of Heat’s ending. Quentin Tarantino even pointed out that Neil’s final choices contradicted the principles he had adhered to throughout the film, making the story hard to believe. But from a dramatic perspective, the journey from a criminal’s rise to power to their inevitable fall is far more thrilling and emotionally engaging than a story where the criminal successfully escapes after a risky venture. This is perhaps why cinematic criminals keep getting “pulled back in” and why we, as viewers, are so captivated by these narratives.

On the other hand, not all criminals in films truly hate the underworld. In Once Upon a Time in America, James Woods’ character Max successfully leaves the criminal life and becomes a politician. Yet he finds himself missing the directness of the mob world, where, though there were betrayals, there were far fewer than in the political sphere. In the mob, violence could solve most problems, while the political world was filled with deceit, compromise, and backroom deals that corroded one's soul far more insidiously.

All of this points to the fate of these mob characters. Few can genuinely walk away, and most remain trapped in the cages they built for themselves. But in a way, doesn’t this situation mirror life itself? Life is another inescapable predicament, and we cannot pin our hopes on some distant escape. The only “way out” is to fully realize our existence in the present.