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The movie (based on a script labored over for some time by Puzo and then finally given form, I suspect, by director Francis Ford Coppola) gets the same feel. Everybody knew everybody else and had a pretty shrewd hunch what they were up to. The remarkable thing about Mario Puzo’s novel was the way it seemed to be told from the inside out he didn’t give us a world of international intrigue, but a private club as constricted as the seventh grade.
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