Image via Complex Original
Martin Scorsese may not have invented the gangster movie, but he has undoubtedly set the bar for the tough guy genre. And while he’s contributed some of the genre’s greatest entries going back to the earliest days of his career with movies like 1973’s Mean Streets, 1995’s Casino, 2002’s Gangs of New York, and 2006’s The Departed (which won the legendary director his sole Oscar), there’s no arguing the simple fact that 1990’s GoodFellas is his crowning achievement. And the kind of movie to which all other gangster films aspire.
As the big-screen adaptation of the life of gangster-turned-rat Henry Hill celebrates its 25th anniversary, we’re offering up 25 Reasons Why GoodFellas Is the Definitive Mob Movie of Our Time.
The Scope
Though at first glance GoodFellas’ 146-minute running time could seem daunting to some would-be viewers, given that the film covers a 25-year time span in the life of Henry Hill and his criminal cohorts—from 1955 to 1980—it’s almost more surprising that it didn’t creep up closer to the three-hour mark of The Godfather (or even the three-and-a-half-hour runtime of The Godfather: Part II). Rather than simply presenting a day in the life of a mob guy, GoodFellas offers up a near-lifetime.
The Pacing
All that said regarding the movie’s two-and-a-half decade scope, the bulk of the story takes place in the gang’s 1970s heyday. Yes, we get to see how a pre-pubescent Henry Hill first became enamored of the gangster lifestyle and started skipping school in order to spend more time running errands for the made guys who ran his Brooklyn neighborhood, but it’s just a small part of the setup to the real story, which tracks the rise and fall of Hill and his crew in the 1970s.
The Voiceover
Though the utilization of a voiceover can sometimes be considered a lazy narrative device, there are cases where it almost seems essential. And GoodFellas is a prime example of that, as it allows the audience to be guided through the story by a reliable narrator, and in a sort of anonymity that lets Hill relay details of his life and story that could never be pulled off if repurposed as general dialogue. (As a mob man is not to vocalize the minutiae of how he and his family run their crews.) Even more important is the fact that the film actually uses two narrators, with Henry’s wife Karen contributing a somewhat alternative perspective, all of which makes for a more well-rounded movie.
The Female Perspective
Karen’s contributions to the overall storytelling process also add an element that is sorely missing from most other mob tales: the female perspective. (The Sopranos is one of the few other exceptions to this rule.) Over the course of the film, we see Karen Hill (née Friedman) transform from the daughter of a strict Jewish family from Long Island to the luxury-loving wife of a mobster. And because we see their relationship from the first time they meet on a forced double-date to their admission into the Witness Protection Program, we get to see how easily one can be seduced into this power-wielding lifestyle. “I know there are women, like my best friends, who would have gotten out of there the minute their boyfriend gave them a gun to hide,” Karen recounts after watching Henry brutally attack her neighbor with the butt of a gun. “But I didn't. I got to admit the truth. It turned me on.”
The Outsider Perspective
While there are elements of Karen’s story that are specifically female-centric—i.e. the cheating husband—her point of view also helps to offer an outsider’s perspective from inside the mob life. Her transformation from upstanding citizen to drug-dealing accomplice answers many of the questions that total outsiders have about the realities of the gangster lifestyle.
The Insiders as Outsiders
While “mafia” and “family” are two words that are used rather interchangeably amongst mobsters, one of the more interesting aspects of GoodFellas, and a point that isn’t often written about, is that of the three main mobsters we get to know in the film—Henry, Jimmy, and Tommy—only one of them (the entertainingly unhinged Tommy) has the kind of bloodline that will allow him to advance in the operation. Because of their partial Irish heritages, neither Henry nor Jimmy would ever be allowed to officially ascend to the rank of “made man.” Regardless of how much they honor the family code, they’ll always be on the periphery, dedicating their lives (and risking the lives of their families) to a group that will never truly accept them as members. This is one of the ways in which this movie most differs from The Godfather, in which “family” is a literal term.
That Tracking Shot
Fact: It’s impossible to talk about GoodFellas without making some mention of the infamous tracking shot through the Copacabana—and with good reason. The scene, which tracks Henry’s and Karen’s movements from parking the car to making their way to their table at the Copacabana—through the winding and busy kitchen entrance—is undoubtedly one of the greatest cinematic achievements in film history. And regardless of whether it's your first or 100th time watching the three-minute scene, it still manages to impress and boggle the mind as to how the choreography came together in such a perfect way, with Steadicam operator Larry McConkey following closely behind. Particularly when you consider that it was shot with just a few takes in half-a-day.
The Soundtrack
By now, Scorsese’s love of music and meticulous decision-making when it comes to where and when to place his musical cues—and knowing just the right song to use—is well known. It could very well be considered almost instinctual. In the case of GoodFellas, in reciting the details of a key scene, fans of the film can also recount what song is playing. In the case of the Copacabana tracking shot, it’s The Crystal’s 1963 happy, romantic girl group hit “Then He Kissed Me.” But as time passes and the glamor is stripped away, the soundtrack turns from pop to rock, with tunes from The Rolling Stones, The Who, and Sid Vicious popping up. Eric Clapton’s riffs are all over the place, too, in the form of Cream’s “White Room” and Derek and the Dominos’ “Layla” (which is used twice: once when the pileup of mobster bodies is found all over the city, and again during the closing credits).
The Visceral Nature
GoodFellas’ unique pacing, coupled with its increasingly sped-up soundtrack, only adds to the film’s visceral nature. The audience feels what Henry is feeling. Nowhere in the film is this more evident than in the scenes immediately leading up to Hill’s arrest, in which he spends the day running errands all around town in preparation for a drug run to Pittsburgh (and trying to make the perfect pasta sauce) and swears that he’s being followed by helicopters. The music is constant, and changes from minute to minute, making it as frenetic an experience for the audience as it is for a coked-up Henry.
The Freeze-Frames
Given the film’s vast story and increasingly frenetic pace, Scorsese’s tendency to employ frequent freeze-frames offers something of a quick visual respite—a great way for the audience to catch its collective breath.
Cooking Lessons
Foodies will certainly appreciate the attention that Scorsese pays to what it is that Henry and his colleagues eat, and how they prepare it. In addition to setting many of the scenes in restaurants and nightclubs, a chunk of the screen time is dedicated to showcasing the importance that food plays for Henry, Paulie, and the rest of the gang when they’re cooped up in prison. Raise your hand if you haven’t at least once attempted Paulie’s preferred method of slicing garlic with a razor blade so that it liquefies in the pan.
The Procedural Aspect
Henry details more than just cooking instructions in his omnipresent voiceover. He also turns the film into something of a gangster procedural by explaining the minutiae of how the game works, what part everyone plays, and even the language. “You know, we always called each other good fellas,” Henry explains. “Like you said to somebody, ‘You’re gonna like this guy. He’s all right. He’s a good fella. He’s one of us.’”
Levity
Though GoodFellas is certainly not without its moments of over-the-top violence, it’s also evened out with a biting sense of humor. In one of the film’s most memorably gruesome moments, Tommy doesn’t take too kindly to being disrespected by a fresh-out-of-prison Billy Batts, when he explains to everyone within earshot that Tommy got his start shining shoes. As disturbing as the scene is, Tommy, Jimmy, and even Henry seem rather nonplussed, joking about it when they stop at Tommy’s mom’s house to grab a knife and shovel in order to bury the evidence of what went down. It’s certainly not the only moment where violence and humor are portrayed simultaneously; Henry can’t help himself from laughing hysterically when Jimmy knocks the wig off of Morrie mid-strangulation.
Morrie’s Commercials
Morrie may be the punching bag—literally and figuratively—for Henry and his crew, but he’s also a much-needed comic relief. He’s annoying for sure, and hasn’t quite learned the dos and don’ts of dealing with vicious mobsters. But he’s yet another one of those on-the-periphery characters with whom the audience can relate. And his love for his wife helps to humanize him, which makes the graphic way in which he is ultimately put to rest even harder to watch.
Mrs. Scorsese
Speaking of Tommy’s mom: if that lovable white-haired lady who likes to paint dogs and tell Italian anecdotes looks familiar, it’s because she has played a matriarch in several of Scorsese’s films, including Who’s That Knocking at My Door, Mean Streets, The King of Comedy, The Age of Innocence, and Casino. And she didn’t need much coaching for the part, as she’s Martin’s mom, Catherine Scorsese. She adds one of several elements of authenticity to the film.
Authenticity
Mrs. Scorsese isn’t the only bit of authenticity that you’ll find in GoodFellas. Because it’s based on a true story, Scorsese was committed to sticking as close to the truth as he could, even if that could have been a risky endeavor. Case in point: In casting the role of Edward McDonald, the U.S. Attorney who flips Henry and puts him, Karen, and their family into the Witness Protection Program, Scorsese cast the very same Edward McDonald.
Quotability
“For as long as I can remember I always wanted to be a gangster.”
“Paulie may have moved slow, but it was only because Paulie didn’t have to move for anybody.”
“What am I, a schmuck on wheels?”
“Jimmy was the kind of guy that rooted for bad guys in the movies.”
“Now go home and get your fucking shinebox.”
Part of GoodFellas’ endurance is in its immense quotability.
“How Am I Funny?”
Of all its quotable lines, GoodFellas also contains what just may be one of the most quotable scenes in cinematic history. Sometimes known as the “Am I funny?” scene, it’s the uncomfortable exchange that occurs between Tommy and Henry in a friend-filled nightclub. Tommy tells a story in a way in which only Joe Pesci can, only to have Henry tell him that he’s funny. But Tommy is looking for clarification on the remark, and Henry is having trouble explaining himself. In the end, it’s yet another case of Tommy’s rather demented sense of humor, which is fortunate for Henry.
Tommy
Though Henry may be the rightful star of the film, it’s Joe Pesci’s Tommy who got the most attention for the film—and also won its only Oscar. (Can you say, “snub?”) The demented-but-likeable badass is a role that Pesci has perfected in his career, and has played on more than one occasion for Scorsese (see Raging Bull and Casino). Though it never gets tiring, he’s at his best as Tommy, the psychotic wiseguy who’d probably have fun drinking a beer with.
The Characters
While it’s worth singling Tommy out as one of the film’s most immensely watchable characters, there’s not a character in the movie that isn’t compelling—right down to the briefly mentioned lineup of small-time players with the kind of names that are worth repeating: Frankie Carbone, Fat Andy, Frankie the Wop, Freddy No Nose, Pete the Killer, Mickey Eyes, and Jimmy Two-Times (who’s gonna go get the papers, get the papers).
Gaudiness, Glorious Gaudiness
With any 1970s-set period piece, you’re bound to have a few flashes of tackiness. But the lengths to which Scorsese and his production and costume designers went with going all-out in the cheesiness department are definitely part of the movie’s charm. Particularly when Karen proudly shows off the many customized features of their new home, including a remote-controlled wall/entertainment center that looks like something out of The Flintstones (and not in a good way).
Mob Wives
Though Henry and his pals made their fair share of questionable choices in fashion, GoodFellas’ cheesiness hits its crescendo when Jimmy’s wife, Mickey, throws a hostess party. Karen describes the scene best when she recounts how “they had bad skin and wore too much makeup.” She continues, “I mean, they didn’t very look good. They looked beat-up. And the stuff they were was thrown together and cheap—a lot of pantsuits and double-knits.”
Michael Imperioli’s Gangster Beginnings
A year after making his debut in Lean on Me, Michael Imperioli had a brief—albeit memorable—appearance in GoodFellas as mobster lackey Spider who somehow gathers the strength to mouth off to Tommy, who has already shot him in the foot once before in an attempt to “make him dance.” Their second encounter doesn’t turn out as well. Getting pushed around by more powerful men must have served the actor well, as he ended up playing Christopher Moltisanti, one of Tony Sopranos’ main ball-busters, throughout The Sopranos’ run.
Breaking the Fourth Wall
It happens rather abruptly, but Henry’s transformation from disembodied narrator to fourth-wall-breaker in the film’s final moments—when he steps off the stand and into what his future holds—was an ingenious decision on the part of Scorsese, and one that really drove home the story’s intimate nature.
In Summation: Scorsese
Though there are dozen more reasons that could be laid out to make a case for GoodFellas’ importance in the mob movie genre, they—and all of the above “reasons”—can actually be summed up in one word: Scorsese. Because whether it’s the script or the acting, the cinematography or the soundtrack, the costumes or the production design, every single frame of the film ultimately rests with Scorsese, along with the team of longtime collaborators that he has assembled (particularly editor Thelma Schoonmaker) in order to create a genre unto himself.