We need to talk about that Ferrari. Most people remember Al Pacino’s roar in Scent of a Woman, but there is this specific, lingering fascination with the "50 more" aspect of his performance—the intensity, the extra mile he went to capture the soul of Lieutenant Colonel Frank Slade. It’s been decades. Yet, we’re still dissecting the nuances of a blind man driving a Mondial T through the streets of Brooklyn. Honestly, it’s kinda wild how a movie from 1992 still grabs our collective throat.
The film didn't just win Pacino an Oscar; it redefined the "grumpy old man" trope into something far more visceral and tragic. When we look at Scent of a Woman 50 more years down the line, or even just through the lens of its 50th-anniversary-type legacy, the weight of the performance holds up. It wasn't just acting. It was a transformation that involved Pacino staying in character even when the cameras weren't rolling, scaring the hell out of his co-stars by never letting his eyes focus on them.
The Ferrari Scene: More Than Just Speed
Let’s get into the mechanics of that Ferrari scene. It’s the centerpiece of the "50 more" mentality—doing more than the script required to make the audience feel the terror and the exhilaration. Frank Slade is a man who has lost everything but his sense of smell and his pride. When he gets behind the wheel of that Ferrari Mondial t, he isn't just driving; he's reclaiming his sight through sheer force of will.
Chris O'Donnell’s character, Charlie, is basically us. He’s terrified. He's screaming. But Frank? Frank is alive for the first time in years. This wasn't some CGI trickery. They were really moving. Pacino had to balance the technicality of "not seeing" while portraying a man who could feel the engine's vibration through his boots. Most actors would have played it safe. Pacino went 50 more steps into the madness.
The Mondial t itself is a bit of a polarizing car among enthusiasts. It’s a mid-engine V8, but back then, it was sometimes seen as the "accessible" Ferrari. By putting Slade in it, the film highlights a man clinging to a specific kind of Italian luxury that feels both out of time and perfectly suited to his bravado. It’s loud. It’s temperamental. It’s exactly like Frank.
Why the Tango Scene Stays Rent-Free in Our Heads
You’ve seen it. Even if you haven't watched the whole movie, you’ve seen the tango at the Pierre Hotel. Gabrielle Anwar, who played Donna, reportedly spent weeks rehearsing that dance, while Pacino leaned into the idea that a blind man would lead not with his eyes, but with his chest and his ears.
"No mistakes in the tango, Donna. Not like life."
💡 You might also like: Why Love Island Season 7 Episode 23 Still Feels Like a Fever Dream
That line is the heartbeat of the film. It's the "50 more" philosophy in a nutshell—the idea that even when you're stumbling in the dark, you just dance on. The choreography by Jerry Mitchell was tight, but it’s the lack of eye contact that makes it legendary. Pacino’s eyes are famously "dead" throughout the sequence, a feat that required immense physical discipline. He didn't blink when he shouldn't. He didn't track her movement. He just felt the space.
Scent of a Woman 50 More: The Legacy of the "Hoo-ah!"
The catchphrase. The one everyone loves to shout at parties after two drinks. "Hoo-ah!" It wasn't actually in the original script in the way it ended up on screen. Pacino picked it up from a military consultant during his prep. He realized that for a man like Slade, language isn't just communication; it's a weapon.
When we talk about Scent of a Woman 50 more times in film school or over coffee, we have to acknowledge the script by Bo Goldman. It’s a remake of a 1974 Italian film, Profumo di donna, but Goldman Americanized it by injecting this intense, almost Shakespearean dialogue. The final courtroom scene at the Baird School? That’s pure theater.
"I'm just gettin' warmed up!"
That speech is ten minutes of raw, unadulterated power. Slade isn't just defending Charlie; he’s defending the idea of integrity in a world that has traded it for "burnished" reputations. It’s high-stakes, it’s loud, and yeah, it’s a little over the top. But that’s the point. Frank Slade doesn't do "subtle." He does "50 more" than everyone else in the room.
The Realism of Frank Slade’s Blindness
Pacino worked with the Associated Blind to understand the daily realities of vision loss. He didn't want to play a "movie blind" person who stares off into the distance with a saintly glow. He wanted the frustration. The knocking over of glasses. The clumsy movements that happen when you're still adjusting to a world you can't see.
📖 Related: When Was Kai Cenat Born? What You Didn't Know About His Early Life
- He learned to use a cane as a tool, not a prop.
- He practiced identifying people by their scent (hence the title).
- He spent hours staring at a fixed point until his eyes glazed over.
This dedication is why the performance doesn't feel like a caricature. Even when he’s being an absolute jerk to Charlie, you see the vulnerability underneath the bark. It’s a masterclass in layering. You hate him, then you pity him, then you want to be him, then you're terrified for him.
What Most People Get Wrong About the Ending
There’s this idea that Scent of a Woman is a "feel-good" movie. Honestly? I don't think so. Not entirely. Sure, Charlie gets off the hook and Frank finds a reason to keep living, but the movie is deeply dark. It’s about a man who brought a .45 to New York with the express intention of blowing his brains out after one last "celebration."
The "50 more" refers to the extra life Frank has to live now. He’s going back to his small house, back to his family who doesn't really like him, and back to the darkness. But he’s going back with a sense of purpose. He saved a kid. He drove a Ferrari. He danced the tango. The ending is a truce with life, not necessarily a victory over it.
Modern Context: Does It Still Hold Up?
Watching it in 2026, some of Frank's behavior is... let's say "of its time." He’s aggressive, he’s crude, and he’s definitely not politically correct. But that’s why the character works. He’s a relic. He’s a dinosaur who knows the meteor is coming. If you cleaned him up for a modern audience, you’d lose the friction that makes the story move.
The relationship between Slade and Charlie is the ultimate "unlikely duo" dynamic. Charlie is the moral compass, but Frank is the one who knows how the world actually works. You need both to survive. Without Charlie, Frank dies in that hotel room. Without Frank, Charlie loses his future because he won't "snitch." It’s a symbiotic relationship built on a weekend of chaos.
Actionable Insights for Fans and Cinephiles
If you’re looking to revisit this classic or dive deeper into the "50 more" aspects of Pacino’s method, here is how to truly appreciate the film:
👉 See also: Anjelica Huston in The Addams Family: What You Didn't Know About Morticia
Watch the Italian Original
Check out the 1974 Profumo di donna starring Vittorio Gassman. It’s a very different vibe—more cynical, less "inspirational"—and it gives you a great perspective on how Pacino transformed the role for an American audience.
Listen to the Score
Thomas Newman’s score is underrated. The "Main Title" and the tango tracks are iconic, but the subtle, melancholic strings during the quiet moments in the Waldorf Astoria are what really build the atmosphere. Listen to how the music changes when Frank is alone versus when he’s performing for an audience.
Analyze the Speech Structure
If you're into writing or public speaking, deconstruct the Baird School speech. It’s a perfect example of using "the rule of three" and building cadence. He starts low, builds to a crescendo, and then drops back down for the killing blow: "I would take a flamethrower to this place!"
Visit the Locations
If you're in New York, many of the spots are still there. The Pierre Hotel, the Oak Room at the Plaza (though its status changes), and the streets of DUMBO where they filmed the Ferrari scene. Walking those spots gives you a sense of the scale Frank was trying to conquer.
Scent of a Woman isn't just a movie about a blind guy and a prep school kid. It’s a movie about the "50 more" percent of effort we have to put in when we feel like giving up. It’s about the smell of flowers, the sound of a V8 engine, and the refusal to go quietly into the night. It’s loud, it’s messy, and it’s damn near perfect.