I was reading last night about Alan Ladd's life. And I mean, from what I know, it's kind of a tragic situation. He was able to achieve that moment. He never thought of himself as a great actor. You know, 'I'm not a good actor', he kept saying. And yet, something about him, the way he presented himself on screen, and the roles that he took, particularly in the '40s and early '50s, were right at that balance point that allowed somebody who was a good, but not a great actor. And for him that was a devastating thing of insecurity that gnawed away at him. And ultimately, there were shifts in public tastes, and shifts in the way the film industry worked that caused Alan Ladd to get side-tracked into a series of films that did not work. And the result was his early death under ambiguous barbiturate, alcohol circumstances sometime in the early 1960s, I think. But for a while, he was the biggest star in the world, in the late '40s, I think, Alan Ladd. And there was a tremendous tension there between what he was and what people projected onto him. But the key thing is that he was an actor who somehow at that time, given the films that were being made, the kind of films... That thing snapped into place, and that projection happened.
And the great thing about [The] Godfather, just to touch base with that again, is that the film itself is the story of the emergence of a personality, Don Corleone from somewhere to somewhere else. And you see it in the film. And that's paralleled in the emergence of Al Pacino as a star. He went into that film not a star. And at the end of the film he was a star. And you can hope that those things happen from time to time. And they do happen from time to time. But they are not... You can't count on them. There's some ineffable part that is very hard to predict.