Scent of a Woman

Scent of a Woman ★★★½

The cocaine-caked Miami “Scarface” might be more iconic, but Al Pacino’s p*ssy-loving fatalist in “Scent of a Woman” is the definitive alpha male of his cinematic career. 

“Scent” is about the time Pacino turned from acting idol to self-parody. But you can’t watch the film and say he wasn’t completely in control of steering the bus of his career off a figurative cliff. 

And here’s why I will always vouch for Pacino as the greatest living actor; independent of director and script, he is absolutely always ‘in’ on the chaos of his performances. 

Did Martin Brest ask Pacino to insert “hoo-ah’s” into every line like some sort of obscure verbal tic? No way.

But there they are - all 30+ of them - punctuating the way for Pacino to move from tough guy gangster roles into decades of parts ranging from closeted gay Republican lawyer to literal Satan. You can’t watch them all and tell me he hasn’t had a heck of a joyride in his golden years.

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