An Al Pacino appreciation: A misunderstood master actor

The other day at work one of my younger co-workers revealed to me that they had never seen an Al Pacino movie. I was shocked and disappointed, but when I recounted this story to an even younger co-worker -- it got worse, she had never heard of the acting legend.

Pacino has long been one of my favorite actors, but one of the disappointing facets of his career has been the paucity of memorable and/or critically acclaimed roles post-2002's successful Christopher Nolan thriller Insomnia.

So it's perhaps unsurprising that a younger generation is ignorant of his charms -- even his more goofy, over-the-top performances which have perpetuated an unfortunate stereotype of him as a bellowing blowhard, when some his best performances are actually both subtle and quiet.

An ongoing retrospective on Pacino's work is currently being hosted by the Quad Cinema in New York City, with the Oscar winner's blessing. At 77, he is firmly in the twilight of his career, although he will be appearing soon in a high-profile HBO movie about the disgraced late Penn State coach, Joe Paterno.

Still, I saw two Pacino's performances there, separated by more than 20 years, and another 20 years plus since either of their release, that spoke volumes about his talent and how underrated it is.

Pacino remains one of our greatest method actors ever -- and I was so moved by his performances in 1973'a Scarecrow and 1997's Donnie Brasco, that it made me think more deeply on his whole career as a whole.

He has certainly made his fair share of clunkers and continued making crime thrillers far past the point of plausibility (although I am cautiously optimistic about his role in the upcoming The Irishman, since he'll be collaborating with Martin Scorsese for the first time on it. But he is, by all accounts a consummate professional, and the selections suggest he's willing to embrace the virtues of some of his most notorious flops.

In Scarecrow and Donnie Brasco, Pacino delivers two brilliant, but very different character studies.

His character in Scarecrow is a sweet-natured, almost childlike man nicknamed Lion by a more forceful newfound friend played by a typically terrific Gene Hackman. For most of the films ambling narrative, Pacino cedes the spotlight to Hackman, brilliantly underplaying his character's quest to reunite with his estranged wife and child whose gender he doesn't yet know.

Al Pacino in Donnie Brasco

The film ends tragically for Pacino's character, and if he hadn't built up so much empathy and good will through his open, honest performance throughout the movie, it just wouldn't work emotionally. He ends up being the glue without doing anything particularly showy. It's the kind of performance that was the hallmark of his incredible run of films from 1972's The Godfather through 1975's Dog Day Afternoon.

By the time he made the hit gangster film Donnie Brasco, Pacino had already begun to be defined by his big performances and had some so many crime genre films that it may have hurt his chances that awards season. That year, his contemporaries -- Jack Nicholson and Dustin Hoffman -- were both nominated for Best Actor for comeback roles of sorts, but Pacino's work in Donnie Brasco is funnier, stronger and deeper.

I'll never forget his line where he describes himself as a "spoke on a wheel." His character Lefty is a perpetually passed over sad sack who suffers the double whammy of seeing his young recruit -- the titular Donnie Brasco, played by Johnny Depp -- first surpass him in the mobster pecking order and then being revealed to be a covert FBI agent.

The Depp melodrama sometimes drags the film down -- his scenes with Anne Heche as his neglected spouse are particularly overwrought and overlong -- but Pacino's work is pitch perfect. He allows himself to be so vulnerable on screen and achingly human.

He looks frail and wounded, but always plays Lefty with pride, even when he is constantly borrowing money from Brasco to save face.

Clearly, Pacino has a formidable gallery of performances in the tank that can be held up against any number of iconic stars, but I would love to see one last classic one to be a fitting capper to his pantheon. And hopefully, will be enough to make him more than a relic to younger generations of filmgoers.