Casting 2 Con Francis Ford Coppula- Site
This open-door policy, however, made him a target. According to multiple production memos and a 1991 interview with casting director Fred Roos (republished in The Annotated Godfather ), the most famous “con” happened not in a boardroom, but on a sticky August afternoon at a makeshift casting venue on Mulberry Street.
Casting director Ellen Chenoweth ( No Country for Old Men ) once said, “The best actor I ever found was a homeless guy who pretended to be a plumber to get past security. He lied to my face for twenty minutes. Then he gave a reading that made me cry. I hired him on the spot.”
Coppola froze. He looked at the young man—bruised, sweating, reeking of cheap beer and desperation—and legitimately wondered if he had forgotten a promise. Coppola later admitted in a Vanity Fair profile: “For three seconds, I thought maybe I did know him. That’s how good he was.” Casting 2 Con Francis Ford Coppula-
Coppola invited Tony into the private audition room. No sides (script pages). No monologue preparation. Coppola simply pointed to a chair and said, “You just found out your brother sold your mother’s jewelry for drug money. What do you do?”
Coppola realized the con almost immediately after the audition. He found it so brilliant—so Sicilian, so street-smart—that he kept the kid around as a “consultant” for the younger cast members. That young man, under a pseudonym, helped teach Robert De Niro’s young Vito Corleone how to move like a petty thief. This open-door policy, however, made him a target
And that, more than any Oscar, is the art of the con. Did you enjoy this deep dive into film history? Share your own stories of “street casting” gone right (or wrong) in the comments below. And for more untold tales from The Godfather trilogy, subscribe to our newsletter.
When film students study the casting process of The Godfather Part II (1974), they learn about method acting, Robert De Niro’s dedication, and Coppola’s obsessive eye for authenticity. But beneath the surface of that cinematic masterpiece lies a wild, almost unbelievable story: the tale of how a minor street hustler, a casting call mix-up, and a deliberate act of deception completely fooled Francis Ford Coppola. He lied to my face for twenty minutes
Coppola famously insisted on shooting on location in New York’s Little Italy and in Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic (standing in for 1950s Havana). But his biggest fear was the cast. He wanted faces that looked like they had lived in tenement hallways, not actors who had studied at Juilliard. He held open casting calls in community centers, social clubs, and even pool halls.
