WHEN I INTERVIEWED James Caan late last year, over a long-distance phone call for Empire’s issue celebrating 50 years of The Godfather, it was apparent that the 82-year-old was experiencing poor health. Yet his condition didn’t prevent him from uttering one of his signature, slyly witty remarks. As we tried to speak over a bad phone line, he quipped, “There’s something between us, darling.” Talking to him, even with a bad connection, was a thrill; before the call ended, he quipped: “Put a full-page ad out for me, honey. I could use the work.”