#Godfather author movie
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I was successful and loving every minute of it. I’d come a long way from being a crippled, tough New York kid with little formal education and no prospects for the future. Nothing much impressed me anymore, having been around the block more than once, but every day I marveled at the sheer energy of the club-the electricity in the air, the customers trying to outdress one another, as if to say, Look at me I’m sharp, rich, young, and ready to party! Every woman who entered my club got a long-stemmed rose from me personally, which set the mood for what was to come: an evening of fine dining, great live music, and enough people-watching to cause a bad case of whiplash. Eighty-six women worked in shifts, serving food and drinks, while the men tended bar and did any required heavy lifting. I hired only beautiful people, all required to wear tuxedos, although the women accessorized with black stockings under tight-fitting shorts, and revealing crisp white shirts, topped off with bow ties. Once inside, a small army of the best-looking men and women in Vegas greeted them. Patrons were greeted by doormen in formal wear when they were admitted after knocking on the door, and perused by a blinking eye through a peephole. The door was flanked by two mirror-polished brass plaques with my name in flaring cursive writing, announcing their arrival at Gianni Russo’s State Street. At the end of the street, where a patron had to turn a corner to get to the club, that all changed what assaulted the senses was opulence on steroids.Ī fifty-foot red carpet ended at the club’s red-and-white awning entrance. I had freshly painted Dumpsters on the street, which overflowed with what appeared to be mountains of garbage (in reality, bags stuffed with newspapers), to give the impression of a depressed, tough neighborhood, so that people would get the feeling they were slumming. The club was located at the end of the dimly lit State Street. I also went all out on the décor, both inside and outside. But you don’t attract and keep big names as customers, friends of mine or not, unless you provided great food, flash, and class. Stephen Shirripa, who would later become an actor and star on The Sopranos, was one of my doormen. Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, Paul Anka, Engelbert Humperdinck, Louis Prima, Wayne Newton, the two Dons (King and Rickles), and numerous other A-listers made the club their second home. My intention was to attract my celebrity friends, who would, in turn, draw high-rolling tourists and politicians looking for photo ops. I’d opened the club in 1981 in a vacant building off a strip mall, located between the Sahara Hotel and the Hilton International Hotel.

This was a ten-thousand-square foot high-end club with prices to match, and with a very cohesive and jovial crowd, but you never knew what could happen in the blink of an eye with booze flowing like water spilling over the Hoover Dam, and people flying on enough coke and other drugs to keep Charlie Sheen happy for a month.

While that role launched my show-business career, I didn’t get to where I was at the tender age of thirty-nine without having been associated with some of the most powerful people in the world, many legitimate, but most not so much.īut on this cool autumn night, I was thinking in the moment, my mind racing, greeting every one of my three hundred–plus patrons, and trying to focus on everything around me.

#Godfather author movie

I played Carlo Rizzi in the movie The Godfather, Don Corleone’s Judas son-in-law, whose betrayal cost the heir apparent to the crime family and oldest boy, Sonny, his life. And I took chances, many of which I think back on today and wonder how I have survived to tell my story.

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In the world in which I traveled, you needed all that, plus glibness and a take-no-bullshit personality, coupled with a willingness to take chances.

I was reaping the benefits of my acting career, connections to the mob, international political and religious affiliations, and just plain brass balls. My name and reputation brought the beautiful people into my club celebrities mingled with gangsters, politicians, megarich titans of industry from around the world, and the occasional U.S. My name is Gianni Russo and I owned that club, cleverly called Gianni Russo’s State Street. The city has a worldwide reputation for nonstop partying, gambling, and the availability of any kind of sex you can think of, and some that can’t be conjured up even on the mind-bending drugs that were as plentiful as popcorn in a movie theater.Īnd when you owned the hottest club in town, every night was a party. Las Vegas is like no other place in the world.