GOODFELLAS (1990)

Neha says

“As far back as I can remember I always wanted to be a gangster” - so says Henry Hill, our anti hero played with ferocious commitment by the ever intense Ray Liotta who in my books plays a character of a lifetime. It helps that it’s based on a true story and Henry Hill is the notorious “Wiseguy” gangster whose life and times have been well documented by crime reporter Nick Pileggi in a novel before he collaborated with Scorsese to pen the film version.

Following the life of Henry Hill we flash back into his early days as a delivery boy for the mob but then he meets and befriends Jimmy played with understated flair by Robert De Niro and as is revealed through Hill’s always penetrating voice-over-Jimmy’s the kind of guy who “roots for the bad guy in the movies.” (And has one of the best character introduction sequences we’ve seen) But of course he’d back the likes of psychopath Tommy played by Joe Pesci whose another startling revelation of the film-He’s as brutal as he is funny (but don’t ever make the mistake of calling him that unless you genuinely believe he’s funny and not in the clown sort of way.)

The story of these three friends follows an intoxicating yet tragic curve-as they are first united by ambition, greed, drugs, rock n’roll, violence and crime and just as Hill gets seduced by the power, glamour and the gamble of the mafia world so do we and so does his wife Karen played with pinching honesty by Lorraine Bracco. It’s interesting how Scorsese adds her voice-over to the film, making her almost an outside eye to the world she’s now a part of. Before we know it the high’s and the illusions come shattering down as Scorsese begins to deconstruct it, starts to question the moral compass even within the mafia world and simply grips us with the dark reality of betrayal, distrust, greed, survival and self-serving agenda’s of friendships and alliances made in the Italian/American mafia reign of the sixties/seventies.

In this character driven drama- it’s about the big story-the rise and fall of Mafia life but it’s really about the small, subtle details as well. No matter how life threatening the situation, these guys still have time for food-the stirring of the tomato sauce for the evening pasta dinner is right up there in their list of priorities and the meticulous preparation of food becomes an equally dynamic aspect of the gang’s life in prison as well. Play of voiceovers and freeze frames aside, there’s also one long uncut scene that follows Henry and Karen through the back doors of a club Copacabana, through the corridors and kitchen to the main room where the waiter guides them to their seat and Henry manages to even talk to a colleague before he takes his place. Karen asks him about why he gave the guy some money before the focus shifts to the stand up routine by Henry Youngman and that’s when Scorsese finally decides to say “Cut”. It’s exciting, hypnotic and kinetic which pretty much sums up the tone and overall experience of Goodfellas.

While there are umpteen quotable one-liners (“What am I, a schmuck on wheels?” “What do you do for a living? I’m in construction.”) and some light hearted moments as well, there’s always a dark sense of foreboding looming in the background. While the “awe” in Hill’s voice-over’s sucks you into the world of the glamorous underbelly, there’s always an unwavering realism and the “true story” factor that makes things feel more plausible and closer to home. Think of a Godfather in the suburban streets of New York.! Scorsese’s astute eye, the attention to detail, the original story, the power packed performances and a truly memorable ensemble of characters makes this no ordinary gangster flick-in fact it’s extraordinary in the way in which it influences, surprises, engages, entertains, inverts the grammar of film making and holds your attention for it’s two hours and thirty minutes of crime, thrills and drama..

Ira says

Goodfellas. Wiseguys. Goodfellas. Glo-rrious. Goodfellas. Gangsters. Criminals. Thieves. Animali. Italian. Mafia. Mafia. Mafia. Words, circle around in my head, punching out at me. Punching with the unmistakable, untouchable machismo and constant droning intensity of Ray Liotta’s voice. Words that hit me quite like the film GOOD FELLAS does with its loaded title, its loaded guns, loaded pockets, loaded performances and loaded emotion.

Watching it for the second time in years, it happened all over again. Like a punch, right in my stomach. Whooosh. Boom, bang. I feel like Joe Pesci, the funny guy, the frightening guy, the guy telling his Italian brothers, all those Pete’s and Paul’s about how he was bashed up by a cop. The guy who uses an expletive in every sentence he speaks and the guy who won best supporting actor at the Oscars for his portrayal of the tiny, and most violent gangster of them all, TOMMY.
EScorsese’s preoccupation, obsession rather with themes of Italian identity, faith in god, Catholicism, masculinity & violence seethe beneath every frame of GOODFELLAS, and I say seethe, because the man is a master of tension. And tension, bubbling, boiling and constant is what he creates in this one from start to finish. Sure, Goodfellas is the shocking saga and true story of the biggest heist in American history, but it’s also a great film taking us into the fabric of the lives of the men who masterminded it. Not just Maurie the wig maker, but ALL of them. The system, the organization, the famiglia.

As the opening sequence bathed in the red from a cars headlights, cuts to a long sequence of flashbacks, Scorsese bombards us with chapter 1 without wasting any time, and in the first 20 minutes you see young Henry (LIOTTA), choosing and infiltrating his way into a life of crime. There is a celebratory, buoyant energy in the fast pace, the crowded frames, the energetic, steady, strong voiceover and the often drowning, upbeat music in the background. And there is something jolting about how casually Henry recalls, “ I was living in a fantasy”. Because you almost join him for the ride. In fact, what’s worse is that you almost BELIEVE that ride. You almost think you’ve ‘met the world’, you almost re-imagine the human moral code you have learnt, known and lived by. Almost. And therein lies the beauty. As much as he sweeps you in, as firm, strong and omnipresent as the fantastic German cinematographer Balhaus’s camera work is, as gruesome, gritty and un-watchable this one gets in parts, Scorsese takes you into it with an illusion of grandeur, an illusion of what’s ‘ok’, (so that you almost agree that the only 2 rules in life are ‘never tell on your friends’ and ‘always keep your mouth shut’).

Through vibrant music, the searing irony of the title, Liota’s delusion of perfection, Scorsese strips down the high life of crime to shock, shake and scandalize you with its ugliness and shocking immunity. And the deliberate flair with which he sets it up tells you that somewhere, somehow, betrayal, backstabbing, blood is around the next corner, that this is all too good to be true. Each time the fantasy and camaraderie breaks with the sight of a corpse, a hand with a gun, a close-up of cocaine, you are forced to remember, this isn’t the real world. This is a dream. A dirty, nasty, underworld, illegal, dream.

Here’s some frightening food for thought: Godfather. Amongst my favourite films of all time. Sopranos. Amongst my favourite TV shows of all time. Italy, one of my favourite countries in the world. Italian, one of my favourite cuisines. I suck in a deep breath, was I Italian in my last life, do I just like Coppola and Scorsese, or De Niro and Brando, or do I take some vicarious pleasure in watching those who live on the wrong side of the law? ((No, psychology, I don’t particularly want an answer). I know the answers are a combination of some of these and a function of the fact that some of favourite directors and actors have done these films but then I have to question, haven’t we all got some strange thrills by doing something forbidden in our lives? Isn’t that one of those covert human follies nobody ever talks about. Isn’t that slicing through to the very fundamental ideas of morality, redemption, good and evil.

At the movies, where glamour & crime are the greatest playgrounds for high drama, the MAFIA has been a fascinating subject. Here’s a world where people can and do, get away with murder. But it’s also a world that’s real, and unsettling. And that’s exactly what a director like Scorsese would be interested in and what he wants it to be. A montage of Bracco as she enters the famiglia, as she recounts how ‘normal’ it was for everyone to be called the same names, to spend all their time together or the prison episode where prison is about wine, scotch and good food for these dons, who basically own the system reiterates these ideas.

To me, somehow, GOODFELLAS seems Scorsese’s most finished work, his most personal, and his most passionate. From the sharpness of the writing and the scope of the dense screenplay, from his attention to detail in every aspect of filmmaking to the wonderful production values. Notice how the costumes, music, and the settings are not only tinged with careful authenticity over the 3 decades the film spans, but also aesthetically well balanced. From the way he uses fast cuts and long tracking shots, to the way he plays with colours, light and moods, from the way he provides 150 minutes of entertainment and thought provoking cinema to the way he gives it all a very firm, very strong, very masculine and very ITALIAN energy.

And above all, for his superb casting. The MEN make the film. And in this case the one woman too. His casting is excellent all around from the biggest leads to the smallest character parts for both men and women. From heavyweights like De Niro or Liotta to Pesci, Paul Sorvino, Tommy’s mom, Henry’s babysitter to the very memorable LORRAINE BRACCO as KAREN HILL, Henry’s one and only, rock and life partner. Performances bring this story alive with an aggressive realism, a focused intensity and an astounding conviction. You grow to empathize, hate, love, and feel for them all. Despite the yelling, the abuses, the drama and the immorality, the gruesome acts, the sense of the indignation and horror at how the world we know turns upside down and is run by criminals, ultimately you gasp, you squirm, shake your head in disbelief, even crack that occasional smile because whether you like it or not, you find finally, that you care, quite a great deal in fact, about that world and the people who live in it. And that, my friends is good moviemaking.