Women in the Mob
COVID-19 has given many of us the kind of free time that we will never have again.
Many took the time at home as an opportunity to master new skills and develop healthier habits. I, of course, decided I would join a friend and instead learn a love language: Italian. After all, Italy is the promised home of thin-crust pizza and heavenly gelato, sembrava un gioco da ragazzi!
Having spent the last eight months accumulating our knowledge, we finally applied what we had learned to one of the greatest films of the modern era — the Godfather. As a passionate feminist, I was acutely aware that some of my pet peeves were going to be triggered across this three-hour watching. After all, this was a film set in the ’70s and influenced by old-style patriarchal regimes.
So of course, the three women we were given most exposure to in the film fit that exact description.
First off was Mrs. Corleone, Don Vito’s wife and the mother of Michael, Santino, Sonny, Fredo, and Connie.
Seldom given much limelight, it was through the lens of emotion that her character was drip-fed to the audience. Whether it was at the dinner table or in the scenes immediately preceding Vito’s near-death, there wasn’t much depth to her role, other than the fact that she was the glue that held together the complex layers of rivalry between various siblings.
Up next was Connie. As the only daughter in the family, Connie already had quite the task on hand to prove herself to her father, especially when her brothers frequently dominated all family matters. Instead, she was portrayed as a promiscuous character, prone to emotional outbursts, and constantly derailing the plot.
When things didn’t go her way, whether that was one brother not honouring her second marriage, or another brother kicking the living shit out of her abusive first husband, Connie’s tantrums are her first line of defence; she becomes well-known for them.
Bringing up the rear is Michael’s fiance, Kay. Introduced to the audience early on during Connie’s first wedding, her character worked well to contrast to other female protagonists; she came across as shy, reserved, very compliant alongside all of Michael’s many run-ins. Yet just like the other two, merely side-action to the main plot.
This familiar pattern is cleverly interwoven into all the drama between the mannerisms and actions of the male protagonists. Work is never discussed at the dinner table, Michael refuses to tell Kay of his contributions to the death of Connie’s husband. Connie is often dragged away from being in the action. Mrs. Corleone is never left to her own devices. The house is always littered with various men, creating a presence of domination in more ways than one.
As I sat there, watching the film unfold before me, I had mixed feelings towards this blatantly misogynistic representation. On the one hand, I accepted that societal norms at the time dictated this perception of female involvement in the mob as simply docile or hysterical. And yet, at the same time, I refused to believe this was the case. Where were all the badass mob women, fighting crime and controlling entire regimes?
So, of course, I decided to do some research. Funnily enough, I came across quite a few fine mob-slaying femme fatales who warrant a mention, holding just as much power and sway as any of history’s most prominent male mobsters.
Leading the list is Virginia Hill — a woman who fits the Godfather’s depiction of women ‘sleeping around’ and breezing their way through male suitors. Indeed, Hill was married at 14, quickly becoming single again not soon after.
However, this is where her similarities with the film motifs end.
Instead of appearing as another disempowered, sexualized woman, Hills used her debauched ways to slowly rise through the ranks, beguiling many top mobsters such as Charles Luciano and Frank Costello along the way.
Fortunately, she isn’t the only one-woman, mob-slaying heroine to make the list. Joining her on the front line is Stephanie St Clair; the same St Clair who is also recognized as the notorious queen of illegal numbers racket in Harlem New York in the ‘30s.
Such was the power heralded by the African American woman, she made regular payoffs to the police and secured protection for each one of her employees in a manner that echoes Don Vito himself, all the while taking on New York’s political establishment and gangster bosses. In her heyday, St Clair was reportedly worth $300,000 (around $4.3 million today).
Given that both Hill and St Clair operated in the ’30s, the portrayal of women in many mob-themed films in the years after, Godfather or not, is a disappointing one.
Sure, societal norms at the time ordained these perceptions. And there is also the counter-argument that these portrayals serve as a telling reminder of how unjustly women in the mob were treated. However, considering that they paved the way for many real-life mob franchises, they do not deserve the exclusion that the film industry, and indeed wider circles, force them into.
So for all the creations of Connies and Kays, there are Virginia Hills and Stephanie St Claires, Griselda Blancos, Maria Licciardis, and many more. They exist — and deserve to be included not just for the power they hold in the real world, but the influence they should have over on-screen illustrations.
