Before Goodfellas (1990), the portrayal of the mafia on screen was grandiose and operatic. The Corleone family in The Godfather (1972) had an almost mythological quality, one of ancient times past. Their rituals were a combination of the sacred and profane. A multiple murder would be juxtaposed with a Christian baptism or a main character would be shot on a fishing boat while reciting a “Hail Mary”.
On September 12, 1990, 25 years ago, director Martin Scorsese would take the mob off the golden throne and throw La Cosa Nostra back out onto the streets with his film, Goodfellas. The brutal and unforgiving movie was developed in collaboration with crime author Nicholas Pileggi. His book Wiseguy (1985) contained the true-life story of Henry Hill, a mobster who intrigued Scorsese. Goodfellas would focus on Henry’s rise up the mob ladder and how he eventually dropped a dime on his crew to save his own skin.
Ray Liotta plays Henry Hill in a breakout performance. Before Goodfellas (1990), Liotta hadn’t done many films. His debut role was in Jonathan Demme’s Something Wild (1986) playing a sociopathic ex-husband and Field of Dreams (1989) as the ghost of “Shoeless” Joe Jackson. The choice to cast him in Goodfellas was a bit of a gamble but one that would soon pay off after the films release.
Henry Hill (Liotta) was a man who in his own words “always wanted to be a gangster.” To Henry, mafia figures like Jimmy Conway (Robert De Niro) were the ultimate personification of American freedom. Adult Henry says:
“For us to live any other way was nuts. Uh, to us, those goody-good people who worked shitty jobs for bum paychecks and took the subway to work every day, and worried about their bills, were dead. I mean they were suckers. They had no balls. If we wanted something we just took it. If anyone complained twice they got hit so bad, believe me, they never complained again.”
A famous scene is emblematic of the special treatment given to those with “connections.” One long unbroken take depicts Henry Hill (Liotta) and his girlfriend Karen (Lorraine Bracco) taking a back entrance to the Copacabana night club, then receiving a special table right in front of the main stage. The scene has been parodied countless times because it is so emblematic of filmmaker, Martin Scorsese’s auteur style. A combination of theme – power, freedom, etc. – and technical proficiency immerse the audience completely.
Once the moviegoers have been pulled into to this world by Scorsese’s direction, the acting kept them there. Another infamous scene reunites a trio of actors from the filmmaker’s 1980 film, Raging Bull. Frank Vincent is a mobster named, Billy Batts who emasculates Tommy DeVito (Joe Pesci) in Henry’s bar. Bats repeatedly makes cracks about “spitshine Tommy”. Folllowing a “go home and get your fuckin’ shine box!” outburst from Bats, Conway (Robert De Niro) politely stands up for his friend.
That is the calm before the storm.
When closing time rolls around, Tommy unleashes his fury on Bats along with Jimmie who stomps Billy’s head into the floor with newly polished shoes. After their vicious beating of Bats, Jimmie is complaining about what the “mutt did to my shoes”. All Tommy has to say to Henry is “I didn’t want to get blood on your floor.” This disregard for human life in favor of material things is precisely what happens when power and freedom go unchecked.
Tommy’s fate later on in Goodfellas is reminiscent of Martin Scorsese’s film, Mean Streets (1973), the opening narration especially. Scorsese reads the thoughts of a young street thug played by Harvey Keitel: “You don’t make up for your sins in church. You do it in the streets. You do it at home. The rest is bullshit and you know it.” Tommy is ‘dealt with’ by Bats’ people as a way to reinforce strength and preserve their reputation. An eye for an eye is the only bit of religion needed among these groups.
Joe Pesci won an Oscar for his portrayal of Tommy DeVito, the unstable sociopath who steals every scene along with huge wads of cash! According to director, Martin Scorsese, the oft-quoted “Am I funny?” scene – where Tommy puts on a fake front of intimidation – is the mafia in a nutshell. You have to have the best poker face in the room. If your street smarts fail you for just one second, it’s lights out!
Ray Liotta’s Henry becomes equally self-destructive, only his conflict is within himself. He is implosive, having fallen victim to all the vices of the mafia lifestyle, the biggest being cocaine. Similar to Tony Montana (Al Pacino) from Brian De Palma’s Scarface (1983), being snowblind causes major lapses in judgment for this figure of “organized” crime.
Both Tommy and the drugs are symbolic of the internal flaws of the mafia. To put it bluntly there is too much unchecked power and a lack of control in the ‘family’. Any time narcotics and murder become the only way to preserve social/financial status, something has gone horribly wrong with the system. When we cannot depend on social institutions like law enforcement and even our own government, has the system failed the very people it has sworn to protect/defend?
Everyone wants to belong, to be part of a family or community. Moreover, traditions and values are learned from those we surround ourselves with. The mafia began as a sort of immigrant support network when Sicilians immigrated to the United States. The prejudice felt by these outsiders caused them to believe they can only rely on themselves and people with the same blood.
Goodfellas has become a classic because it contains themes that are very relevant to American culture: the outlaw, the American Dream of rags to riches and the idea of family/community – searching to a place to belong. In our modern day society, everyone from political pundits to the average middle-class American, are still discussing who belongs in America and who should be kept out.
Today, gangs and cults sprout up all over the United States because individuals feel their concerns are not being addressed by the larger whole. We should take another look at Goodfellas to see what actually happens when those who are part of the system feel like the can survive without it: kids playing stickball find bloody corpses sitting inside brand new Cadillacs.
A Film History Magazine 
[…] Scorsese’s character study not only contends for that aforementioned and arbitrary title, but also for the lofty praise of potentially being considered the esteemed director’s magnum opus. Much can be said about Raging Bull’s masterful editing, courtesy of the inimitable, Thelma Schoonmaker, and Paul Schrader’s comprehensive script, but the film is truly its director’s work and for me it remains the point at which Scorsese was operating at the height of his powers. As brutal as Taxi Driver (1976) and with hints of the darkness so prevalent in The King of Comedy (1982), but as sprawling and as confident as the intricate network of emotional connections that is GoodFellas (1990). […]
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