Review In A Nutshell:

Brian De Palma and Oliver Stone teaming up in their take of the American Dream, revolving around the political refugee named Tony Montana as he gets sucked into the glamour and profit of the drug underworld set in 1980 Miami. There have been two previous viewings where I felt this was a decent entry for both directors, couldn’t help myself but smile when its iconic moments appear on screen; but this recent viewing has opened my eyes to what dull catastrophe this film truly is, an experience that left me inattentive throughout due to its overpowering and discomforting performance by Al Pacino, and I mean this in a negative way, with his heavy accent and overemphasised mannerisms. I have always thought highly of the American Dream concept, and I have seen many filmmakers use the idea in ways that are compelling and original, but Scarface leaves very little too offer and it lacks the compelling power that it should in its exploration of a figure fractured by his own ambition and greed; I should be sucked into his frustrations and glory, but instead he remains unpleasant throughout, unable to earn my sympathy. It is because of this lack of connection with the protagonist that I found myself feeling every passing minute, simply wishing for it to end. The only redeeming aspect of this is its stylish atmosphere that De Palma creates and the wonderful score composed by Giorgio Moroder, but eventually they both lose their power over me, unable to completely compensate for the lack of interest or connection I have for the protagonist and his story.

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