Yeah, I'm not afraid to use the word "fuck," I just chose not to in the title of this.
Yet another installment in my quest to get through the AFI Top 100 (10th Anniversary Edition) and write my thoughts about them.
I feel like I'm stealing fucking writing about some of these. This is fucking one of fucking them. Why should I try and comment on a film like this? What do I have to add to the discussion? Fucking nothing. However, I'm doing this, so I might as well, you know, do it.
Film 48
48. "Goodfellas" (AFI Rank #92)
See that last thing I wrote? AFI Rank #92? False. That's just...fucking wrong. That films like (just picking one at random) "Tootsie" are ranked significantly higher than this one is just plain wrong. I'm not saying that this film is necessarily worthy of HEAPS of praise, but it is certainly better than many, many films ranked higher on the list. Or is it? Fun part of this stream of conscience writing is that I often question assertions I make as I'm making them. I might contradict the one I just made. I'll explore my thoughts on the film, and see what happens...
Based on a true story, and frighteningly more true than most films claiming this, "Goodfellas" is yet another masterpiece from one of America's finest film directors, Martin Scorsese. Detailing the lives of smaller time members of the mafia, this film shows us the struggles and allure of the average foot soldier in a small company of the cosa nostra. Whereas a film like "The Godfather" shows us what it's like to be calling the shots, this film shows us who it is that does the shooting. Populated with colorful, if barbaric characters, "Goodfellas" is really a blue collar story about some guys making some serious cash with nothing but their ambition and a loose set of morals.
Our narrator through this journey is Henry Hill, played as an adult by Ray Liotta. A small time hood, half Sicilian, half Irish, Henry has no hope of real power in the mob. What he has, though, is a great time. He loves what he does. He loves stealing things. He loves the limited power he has. But mostly, Henry loves all the things that ridiculous amounts of money can buy. As evidence, I cite the third visit to the Copacabana, on "Girlfriend's Night." Watch all the hoods as they watch Jerry Vale sing "Pretend You Don't See Her." Yes, these guys are loud, obnoxious criminals, but even they get awestruck by the power of performed live music. Sitting in the front of the club, looking like a bunch of starstruck teenagers, we see that in spite of the fact that they feel entitled to be there, they still "get it." Or maybe they realize just how talentless they are. I don't know. I know that you can't watch that scene and not notice how completely out of character their reactions are compared to the rest of the film.
Nearly every aspect of this film is tremendous. Let's start with the soundtrack. Don't believe that it is important? Check out the Wikipedia entry about it. Every one of these uses of music is thought out, it's vital to the scene, and in its context, it makes sense. The "Layla" sequence is especially magnificent, reminiscent of the montage from "The Godfather," in which we see the graphic results of the war between Barzini and Corleone. However, unlike that film, we know the characters who are dying in "Goodfellas." We care about them, and the song culminates with the *SPOILER* execution of Tommy (Joe Pesci), one of the people we've come to love and hate while watching this film. Scorsese loves music, that much is obvious. Having spent a portion of the 70s living with Robbie Robertson, the guitarist and principal (credited) songwriter of The Band, Scorsese obviously pulls from a tremendous knowledge of music history for this film. Unlike a film like "Taxi Driver," which had the music composed for it, Scorsese composed the visual around the audio in this one. It certainly was not the first film like this, but it's one of the best.
I mentioned visual. "Goodfellas" doesn't pull out as many tricks as "Taxi Driver," Scorsese's earlier masterpiece. However, it has its share of close ups, slowed down/sped up film sequences, and freeze frames to remind you just who was in charge on this. One particularly famous sequence is the 3 minute long Steadicam shot as Henry and his future wife Karen (Lorraine Bracco) enter the Copacabana for the first time. It's a dizzying, disorienting shot, and it's meant to show us what Karen must be feeling as she is hustled into a life that few can understand. Also of note is a similar technique used at Karen and Henry's wedding reception, as she meets scads of people whom Henry deals with, and scads of people that wish to show Henry and her tribute in the form of stacks and stacks of cash. Hell, it's used another time, when we meet all of the guys that Henry knew at the Bamboo Lounge. Scorsese had mellowed some as a visual artist by the time this film came out, but his hand is seen deftly guiding so many of the film's sequences.
Story is incredibly important in this film. But here's what's funny. The biggest thing that happens in this film, and the sequence that would probably be most splashy, is the Lufthansa Heist, which is not even shown. The planning of it is hinted at, but not shown. I've read up on it. It was a really, really complicated event, the kind of shit that Hollywood loves to film....but in this film? It's handled by watching Henry hearing about it while taking a shower. See, what matters isn't the what that these guys did, it's the what happened to them as a result. We see guys start to let more and more go as they get deeper and deeper into the life, to the point where we watch Tommy basically becoming a complete psychotic, with no ramifications for anything he does. Watch the sequence where Spider dies. No one blinks, no one, except Henry, cares that Spider died. No, the thing that matters is that now there's a body to dispose of, and that's a tough thing to do. A kid with a family just died. Meh. "You're gonna dig the hole!"
Of course, as things get less and less consequential, mistakes begin to happen, and people start to indulge in excesses that are riskier and riskier. Finally, our protagonist is arrested, and is facing some major jail time for drug trafficking. Of greater consequence, of course, is the death sentence that is likely placed on him as a result of the paranoia of what he might reveal when incarcerated. Yet, in all of that, we see something else. We see how insipid the mafia is on the rest of the family. No, I'm not talking about Karen. I'm talking about Karen's mom. Early in the film, she is a shrieking harpy, doing everything she can to admonish Karen for marrying such a man. When Henry is arrested at the end, however, it is the mother that mortgages her house to bail him out, and she is there, a silent passenger in the car, as Henry is released on that bail. It's like she's come to accept it, too. It's frightening. What we see must have some tremendous appeal, and the "testimonial" of Karen's mom affirms that.
I've always found villains who have the choice about their actions to be the most compelling. Most mafia films, for that reason, really resonate with me. What is it that makes a person choose this lack of morals? I'm not sure this film answers that question. It sure asks it, though.
Know what? I haven't even mentioned acting. Robert DeNiro is his mafia best in this one as Jimmy Conway. This is one of 5 films on the list in which DeNiro has a major role. It's no coincidence. Joe Pesci won an Oscar for his portrayal of Tommy. His improvised "Do I amuse you?" scene is a classic in the annals of Hollywood. Liotta, despite limited range, is tremendous. Watching this time, though, I was struck by two actors. Lorraine Bracco, while subject to fits of yelling, (hey, remember her mother?) is a dynamo as Karen. What's weird is that the role seems so subservient. Yet, picture it in someone else's hands. I can't imagine anyone else being able to do what Bracco did here. Edie Falco, no doubt, stole a great deal of Carmela Soprano from this role. The other actor I noticed this time was Paul Sorvino. I confess I always found Paulie the least compelling character in this film. He's a boss(ish), sure, but he's small time. Yet, this time I watched Sorvino to try and get it. And I did. His eyes, especially, are portals into his soul. I'm often distracted by television and film actors' darting eyes as they look at someone. Sorvino's gaze in "Goodfellas" is unyielding. It just fixes on a point, and it stays there. I found out, through research, that it was a choice. It showed up.
I also touched on improvisation. A significant portion of this film is improvised. Daring, but most scenes really feel alive as a result. The dinner scene with Tommy's mom (Catherine Scorsese, having no business being in a film) would die a horrible death without the actors so clearly struggling to converse. Had it been polished, it would have been wrong. Yet another great scene.
Look. "Goodfellas" is vulgar. Did you notice how I fucking hinted at fucking that above? It's also brilliant.
Watch it.
Ebert wrote a piece on it towards the end of his life. It's here. Or, rather, it's above, in what I wrote. Nailed it.
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