Three hours and 20 minutes of Al Pacino suffering openly, Robert Duvall suffering silently, Diane Keaton suffering noisily, and (every so often) Robert De Niro suffering good-naturedly is almost too much, but Francis Ford Coppola pulls it off in grand style. This 1974 sequel never bores, though Gordon Willis’s lights-in-your-face cinematography (with its heavy overhead lighting and all those browns and yellows) gets to you after a while, and Coppola’s preoccupation with religious ritual almost spoils some quietly effective scenes.