From the New York Times, this is the interview. I'm David Marcasey.

When I was in college, I had a poster of Al Pacino in Scarface hanging up on my wall.

And I know that a Scarface poster is up there with Bob Marley and Dark Side of the Moon as far

as cliche dorm room art goes, but I promise that my love for Pacino and that

movie were real. The sheer bravado he exuded as Tony Montana was irresistible, especially for me at a time in my life

when bravado was, let's just say,

not exactly my default mode.

Also, like a lot of people have that poster,

I just thought it looked really cool.

I came to Pacino's work in kind of a backwards way.

I fell in love with his acting when I was a teenager in the 90s, and that's when he was regularly

popping up in pretty mainstream movies like

Cent of Woman and Heat. I didn't yet fully appreciate him as an icon of 1970s

cinema who helps bring a new level of emotional intensity and realism to screen acting.

But those 70s roles are, of course, where Pacino made his name.

Think of the frazzled yearning Sunny Wardsick and Dog Day afternoon, the tormented cop of Serpico, and the morally compromised

Michael Corleone from the Godfather movies.

These are roles that all shine a bright, empathetic light on what it is to live an emotionally conflicted life.

And that's not even mentioning his work in the theater to which he's periodically returned

over the years.

His Shylock in Merchant of Venice is the single best stage performance I've ever seen.

Over time I've learned that there's an Al Pacino role that has resonated with every phase of my life,

...