Hyman Roth
Based on Wikipedia: Hyman Roth
The Quiet Man Who Was Bigger Than U.S. Steel
In one of cinema's most chilling moments, a frail old man in a modest Miami home looks up from his tuna sandwich and delivers a line that has haunted audiences for half a century. "We're bigger than U.S. Steel," he says, almost casually, as if discussing the weather rather than the vast criminal empire he controls.
That man is Hyman Roth, the main antagonist of The Godfather Part II. And while he is entirely fictional, the real mobster who inspired him actually said something remarkably similar.
The Real Gangster Behind the Fiction
Hyman Roth is a thinly veiled portrait of Meyer Lansky, one of the most influential figures in the history of American organized crime. Lansky was a Jewish immigrant from what is now Belarus who arrived in New York's Lower East Side as a child in 1911. He would go on to become what law enforcement called "the Mob's Accountant"—the financial genius who helped transform street-level crime into a sophisticated multinational enterprise.
But Lansky was far more than a bookkeeper. He was a visionary who saw opportunities where others saw only risk. He pioneered the development of illegal gambling in Cuba. He helped build Las Vegas from a dusty desert town into the gambling capital of the world. And he did it all while maintaining such a low profile that most Americans had never heard his name.
This is precisely what makes Hyman Roth such a compelling villain. He doesn't look dangerous. He doesn't act dangerous. He putters around his house, complains about his health, and seems like nothing more than a retired businessman. Yet behind those watery eyes lies a mind capable of orchestrating murders, corrupting governments, and building criminal enterprises that span continents.
The Making of a Monster
The Godfather Part II includes a deleted scene that explains Roth's origins, though most audiences have never seen it. In this sequence, set in the early 1920s in New York's Little Italy, a young man named Hyman Suchowsky works as a car mechanic. He catches the attention of Peter Clemenza, a member of what will become the Corleone crime family, who has been calling him "Johnny Lips."
Clemenza introduces the young mechanic to his friend Vito Corleone, who immediately recognizes the young man's potential. Vito suggests that Suchowsky change his name—a common practice among immigrants who wanted to assimilate into American society, but in this case, it serves a more practical purpose. A man building a criminal career benefits from a name that doesn't draw attention.
When Vito asks whom he admires, Suchowsky doesn't hesitate. Arnold Rothstein, he says. The man who fixed the 1919 World Series.
This is a revealing answer. Arnold Rothstein was the original godfather of American organized crime, the man who first understood that crime could be run like a business. He was also Jewish, like Suchowsky, at a time when most organized crime was dominated by Italian and Irish gangs. Rothstein proved that intelligence and financial acumen could be just as powerful as muscle.
And so Hyman Suchowsky becomes Hyman Roth—taking the last name of his hero as a kind of declaration of intent.
The Partnership That Defined an Era
During Prohibition, the period from 1920 to 1933 when alcohol was illegal in the United States, Roth proved his value to the Corleone family. He helped them enter the bootlegging trade by setting up a molasses-smuggling operation between Havana and Canada.
Why molasses? Because molasses can be fermented and distilled into rum. And why Havana and Canada? Because Cuba produced massive quantities of molasses from its sugar industry, while Canada had relatively lax enforcement of American Prohibition laws. By controlling this supply chain, Roth and the Corleones could produce alcohol at scale while minimizing their risk of interception.
This kind of sophisticated thinking was Roth's signature. While other gangsters were hijacking trucks and getting into shootouts, Roth was building supply chains and calculating margins. He understood that the real money wasn't in the violence—it was in the logistics.
The Inventor of Las Vegas
Roth's closest friend in the criminal underworld was Moe Greene, another Jewish gangster who appears briefly in the first Godfather film before being famously shot through the eye while getting a massage. Greene, the film tells us, was "the inventor of Las Vegas."
This too has its roots in reality. The real Moe Greene was likely based on Bugsy Siegel, Lansky's childhood friend and business partner who built the Flamingo Hotel, the first luxury casino resort on the Las Vegas Strip. Siegel's vision transformed Las Vegas from a dusty railroad town into the gambling capital of the world.
When Greene is killed in The Godfather—executed on orders from Michael Corleone for his disrespect toward the family—Roth is devastated. But he doesn't show it. "I said to myself, this is the business we've chosen," he tells Michael years later. "I didn't ask who gave the order, because it had nothing to do with business."
This is Roth's philosophy in a nutshell. Business comes first. Always. Even when your best friend is murdered.
But Roth is lying. He never forgave Michael for Greene's death. And he has been plotting his revenge for years.
The Cuban Gambit
By the time of The Godfather Part II, Roth has relocated to Miami, where he lives in apparent retirement. He is old now, and genuinely ill—his health problems are not an act. But his mind remains as sharp as ever, and his ambitions have only grown.
Roth has cultivated a relationship with Fulgencio Batista, the corrupt dictator who rules Cuba. Together with major American corporations, he has developed a plan to build a gambling empire on the island, just ninety miles from the Florida coast. The American government, which supports Batista as a bulwark against communism, is willing to look the other way.
It's an audacious scheme. Cuba would become a playground for wealthy Americans, a place where gambling, prostitution, and other vices could flourish without interference from U.S. law enforcement. The profits would be enormous. And Roth would control it all.
There's just one problem. Michael Corleone wants in.
Keep Your Friends Close
Michael's father, Vito Corleone, had a complicated relationship with Hyman Roth. They did business together for decades. Vito liked Roth. He respected Roth. But as one character notes, Vito never trusted Roth. Not once.
Michael doesn't trust Roth either. And he has good reason. Shortly after they begin doing business together in Cuba, someone tries to kill Michael. A hit squad armed with machine guns attacks his bedroom in the middle of the night. Michael survives only because he happens to be elsewhere at the time.
Michael immediately suspects Roth. But he can't prove it. And he can't simply have Roth killed—not yet. Roth is too powerful, too connected, and most importantly, Michael still needs to identify the traitor within his own family who helped set up the assassination attempt.
And so Michael remembers his father's advice: "Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer."
He continues doing business with Roth. He smiles and shakes hands and pretends everything is fine. All while watching. Waiting. Planning.
The Traitor Revealed
The traitor turns out to be Michael's own brother, Fredo.
Fredo is the middle son of the Corleone family, older than Michael but less capable, less respected, less everything. He has spent his entire life in the shadows of his brothers—first Sonny, the hot-headed eldest, and then Michael, the cold-blooded youngest. Fredo was passed over for leadership of the family, and the humiliation has festered for years.
Roth's right-hand man, a Sicilian named Johnny Ola, recognized this resentment and cultivated it. He befriended Fredo. Flattered him. Made him feel important. And in exchange, Fredo provided information about Michael's movements and security arrangements.
Fredo didn't mean for Michael to die. He just wanted to be noticed. To matter. But in the world of the Corleones, good intentions count for nothing.
New Year's Eve, 1958
On the last night of 1958, Michael makes his move. He orders Roth killed.
"Hyman Roth will never see the new year," he tells Fredo, still not revealing that he knows of his brother's betrayal.
Michael's bodyguard, Bussetta, slips into the hospital where Roth is recuperating from one of his many ailments. He finds the old man alone, vulnerable, connected to tubes and monitors. He raises a pillow to smother him.
And then Cuban soldiers burst into the room and shoot Bussetta dead.
The timing could not have been worse. At that very moment, Fidel Castro's revolutionary army is entering Havana. Batista is fleeing the country. The corrupt government that Roth had spent years cultivating is collapsing in a matter of hours.
Everything Roth has built in Cuba—the casinos, the political connections, the carefully constructed empire—is gone. And Michael's plans have been ruined as well.
The Senate Hearings
Roth survives. And despite losing everything in Cuba, he is not finished.
He turns his attention to destroying Michael Corleone through the American legal system. The U.S. Senate has launched hearings on organized crime, and Roth sees an opportunity. He arranges for the Rosato brothers, two small-time criminals, to attempt to kill Frank Pentangeli, a Corleone family captain who has become disgruntled with Michael's leadership.
The attempt fails, but Pentangeli survives believing that Michael ordered the hit. Furious and afraid, he agrees to testify against the Corleone family before the Senate committee.
It's a brilliant scheme. The Senate committee's chief counsel is secretly on Roth's payroll. The hearing is designed not to uncover the truth about organized crime, but to destroy Michael Corleone specifically. If Pentangeli testifies, Michael will go to prison for the rest of his life.
But Michael has a counter-move. He has Pentangeli's brother Vincenzo flown in from Sicily. Vincenzo doesn't say anything. He doesn't have to. His mere presence in the hearing room reminds Pentangeli of the old world's code of honor—the code that says you never betray the family, no matter what.
Pentangeli recants his testimony. He claims he was confused, that his earlier statements were lies told under duress. The government's case collapses.
The Law of Return
Roth is now a man without a country. The United States wants to prosecute him. Cuba under Castro has no use for American gangsters. He has money—vast amounts of it—but nowhere to go.
And so he makes one final gambit. He publicly announces that he wishes to retire to Israel under the Law of Return.
The Law of Return is an Israeli statute that grants every Jewish person the right to immigrate to Israel and become a citizen. It was passed in 1950, just two years after Israel's founding, as a response to the Holocaust and centuries of Jewish persecution. For Jews around the world, it represents a promise: there will always be a place where you belong.
But does that promise extend to criminals? To men who have built empires on violence and corruption?
The Israeli High Court says no. Roth's request is rejected, reportedly due to his criminal ties. He is a Jew, yes, but he is also a gangster. Israel will not become a haven for American mobsters.
This too mirrors real history. Meyer Lansky made exactly this attempt in 1970, applying for Israeli citizenship under the Law of Return. He lived in Israel for two years while his case was considered. In the end, he was rejected and forced to return to the United States.
The Final Reckoning
Hyman Roth's story ends at the Miami airport. He has been expelled from Israel. He is about to be taken into U.S. federal custody, where he will almost certainly spend his remaining years in prison.
As he walks through the terminal, surrounded by federal agents and reporters shouting questions, a man pushes through the crowd. He is dressed as a journalist, complete with press credentials and a camera.
His name is Rocco Lampone. He is Michael Corleone's caporegime—a captain in the family's criminal organization.
Rocco raises a gun and shoots Hyman Roth dead.
A moment later, federal agents shoot Rocco. He dies knowing that he has completed his mission. The man who tried to destroy Michael Corleone is finally gone.
The Performance
Hyman Roth is brought to life by Lee Strasberg, a man who had never acted in a film before. Strasberg was better known as the father of Method acting, a technique that emphasizes emotional authenticity and psychological realism. He had trained some of the greatest actors of his generation, including Marlon Brando, James Dean, and Al Pacino himself.
It was Pacino who suggested Strasberg for the role. He knew his old teacher had the gravitas to play a man of quiet menace, someone who could terrify the audience without ever raising his voice.
Strasberg's performance earned him an Academy Award nomination. Critics and audiences were mesmerized by his portrayal of evil disguised as frailty, ambition masked by humility. When Roth complains about his health, you almost feel sorry for him. When he talks about being "bigger than U.S. Steel," you believe every word.
Why This Matters
The Godfather Part II was released in 1974, and it remains one of the greatest films ever made. It won six Academy Awards, including Best Picture. It is regularly cited as one of the rare sequels that equals or surpasses its predecessor.
And at the heart of the film is the conflict between Michael Corleone and Hyman Roth—two brilliant, ruthless men who understand each other perfectly and therefore can never trust each other. Their chess match spans continents and years, leaving bodies in its wake.
But the film is also a meditation on what power costs. Michael destroys Roth, yes. But in doing so, he also destroys his brother Fredo, his marriage, and whatever remained of his soul. He wins, and the victory is ashes.
Hyman Roth, for all his evil, understood something that Michael never did. When he said "this is the business we've chosen," he meant it. He accepted the consequences of his choices. He didn't pretend to be anything other than what he was.
Michael, by contrast, spent his entire life trying to go legitimate, to become respectable, to escape the family business. He never could. And perhaps that's because he never fully admitted what he was.
In the end, the quiet old man in Miami might have been the more honest of the two.