The Godfather dominates most discussions about classic gangster films, but Goodfellas (1990) deserves a fair shake. Martin Scorsese's gangster opus goes for the gritty life of mid-level hoodlums, not the operatic tragedy of CEO-like bosses. If it's not as tragically moving as the Coppola films, Goodfellas certainly seems more real.
Henry Hill (Ray Liotta) eschews his father's hard-luck life for organized crime. Henry ingratiates himself with mob capo Paul Cicero (Paul Sorvino), becoming partners with cold-hearted enforcer Jimmy Conway (Robert DeNiro) and psychotic punk Tommy DeVito (Joe Pesci). Henry lives the high life with his wife Karen (Lorraine Bracco), a string of mistresses, and all the cars, clothes and drugs he can handle. But his gang's increasingly reckless activities, culminating in a robbery at Lufthansa Airport, lead to a trail of bodies, increasing paranoia and Federal investigation.
Working off Nicholas Pileggi's book Wiseguys, Scorsese crafts a worm's-eye view of the mob world. Unlike Coppola's polished, improbably articulate gangsters, Goodfellas's protagonists are a bunch of short-tempered, impulsive thugs. Jimmy's talk of loyalty is a joke: Henry doesn't mind running a drug-smuggling ring under Paulie's nose, and Tommy kills "made man" Billy Batts (Frank Vincent) over a petty insult. Promiscuity is a matter of course, but the mob wives are (mostly) too scared to complain. Violence isn't a stylish ritual but brutally unpredictable, especially with Tommy around.
Scorsese employs an episodic structure, allowing him to show mundane gangster life between the killings and robberies. One amusing scene has the gang visiting Tommy's mom (Catherine Scorsese) during a job, eating spaghetti while their victim squirms around in the trunk of their car. The most novel conceit, however, is injecting Karen's point of view into the proceedings. She resents being treated like garbage but loves the lifestyle too much to leave Henry, a more interesting and credible characterization than The Godfather's naive victim Kay.
Goodfellas so immerses its viewers that some feel it glamorizes the Mob. Certainly the protagonists live the high life, indulging in petty opulence and giving authorities the finger. A healthy serving of black humor gives Henry and Co. a certain slimy charm. But Scorsese takes care to show the Mafia's nastiness, whether bullying restaurant owners, mistreating their families or devouring its own. Henry and Karen are so greedy and paranoid they can't even enjoy their ill-gotten gains. Every character ends up dead or in jail, murders and betrayals becoming the norm. Henry's unrepentant attitude at the end shows what a bastard he is; only a scumbag would view his life nostalgically.
If nothing else, Goodfellas is a master class of direction. Scorsese makes use of every cinematic trick imaginable: Thelma Schoomaker's mixture of hard editing, freeze-frames and graceful montages, impressive steadicam work and superb narration. He makes wonderful use, too, of a period soundtrack, injecting popular songs as a counterpoint to the action. The list of iconic scenes is endless: Henry and Karen's walk through the Copacabana, Batts' grisly murder, the Layla montage, and best of all, Henry's frantic day running drugs, making tomato sauce and fleeing helicopters. The film is perfectly made, artistic without being ostentateous, a textbook example of filmmaking.
Ray Liotta is superb as Henry Hill, a self-destructive man who can't see the downside of running with a bad crowd. He hasn't done anything half so interesting since. Joe Pesci gives a career-defining performance as a truly loathsome (yet darkly humorous) psycho. Robert DeNiro is intensely restrained; his more colorful co-stars make it easy to overlook that he's the most deadly crook. Paul Sorvino does fine work, and Lorraine Bracco is perfect as a small-time girl seduced into the mob lifestyle.
The supporting cast is packed with recognizable faces. Most of the actors (Bracco, Frank Vincent, Vincent Pastore, Michael Imperioli) later turned up on The Sopranos. Vincent gets a stand-out part, busting Tommy's balls a time too many ("Go home and get your shinebox!"). Samuel L. Jackson has an early role as an associate of the gang ("You were late for your own fucking funeral!"). Catherine Scorsese is extremely charming as Tommy's oblivous mom. Hill's real-life prosecutor Ed McDonald plays himself.
Goodfellas is a seminal work in the gangster genre. I remember preferring Scorsese's follow-up Casino (1995), which goes even further in deconstructing gangster glamor. But that calls for a rewatch.
