Goodfellas Is A 145 Minute Reminder Of Why Martin Scorsese Is A Cinematic Legend

There was this odd phenomenon when The Wolf Of Wall Street came out three years ago regarding many commentators feeling that the movie was explicitly endorsing the various nasty deeds its lead character commits. Art is subjective and all that, so if that's your takeaway from the film, that's fair. Personally though, I'd say The Wolf Of Wall Street very much makes it clear that Jordan Belfort is a very bad man, one that the movie wants you to gawk at while seeing how much this real-life guy was able to get away with in his time of swindling and debauchery. Scorsese's whole point with that 2013 effort is for the viewer to come away with how delusional Belfort was as a human being; despite all the Quaallades and obvious wrongdoings he was committing, he still saw himself as untouchable, above the common world.

Examining the delusional psyche of those corrupted by criminal activity and excess was a prominent theme explored in Scorsese's earlier effort, Goodfellas, a 1990 movie widely regarded as one of his best movies. Watching it for the first time in anticipation of his newest movie (Silence), I can very much see where that perception comes from. It's a film that takes off like a rocket from the opening credits that whizz onto the screen and never lets up in terms of energy from there. Scorsese actually talked about how, after reading the book this movie was based on, he wanted the film to have a pacing style akin to that of movie trailers, and that's an accurate summarization of the type of pulsating rhythm Goodfellas runs on.

Actually, very much like the aforementioned 2013 Scorsese effort Wolf Of Wall Street (which I now see as a spiritual sequel to Goodfellas that examines a similar form of large-scale corruption in the modern age), Goodfellas is a film-long arc of a good kid being drawn into the seedy world of crime and revealing himself to actually be a reprehensible figure that fits all too snugly into all this debauchery. When Henry Hill (Ray Liotta) was introduced into this world of gangsters as just a kid, he was entranced by the special treatment and privileged lives these guys got to carry out. It was the only life he knew, one filled with violence, deceit, all of the kind of actions that, for mobsters, are commonplace, expected even.

Henry Hill is recounting much of the movie by way of narration, which makes the entire film feel like it's Henry recounting old memories in his head, wistful of days gone by in the same way you or I might fondly remember old birthday parties or old school chums. Instead, he's recounting the good o'l days of...violent murder, drugs and spousal abuse, reliving these memories by way of his casual narration that shows hos displaced from reality his mindset has become. To him, all of this is normal, all of this crime, all of these wrongdoings, they're just another element of his normal life and that informal narration that is a major part of Goodfellas helps cement that notion. Henry is recounting old days of being a gangster in a playful "Ah, those were the days!" manner while the audience looks on repulsed at the visual depictions of his past transgressions.

Similarly, the production design and editing of Goodfellas helps accentuate the sense of delusional grandeur Henry carries in his head about his days as a big-shot gangster. Those extended single takes that have become the stuff of legend since this film's initial 1990 release definitely live up to the hype, it's both a gorgeously put-together extended shot and one that carries some underlying menace to it as you see just how deep and wide this crime family is by way of the large amount of people Henry cordially interacts with during this extended take. That's actually the beauty of Goodfellas; it's got a vibrant lively energy to it, but it's one that's masking the obvious horrifying nature of this crime-ridden world, the juxtaposition between the atmosphere and actual content of these sequences creates an intentionally jarring dissonance that helps demonstrate how far removed from any semblance of reality Henry and his various cohorts are.

Taking up that lead role of Henry Hill is Ray Liotta who does strong work in that lead role, particularly in some of the final scenes where Henry's mental state becomes more and more unhinged as drug-fueled paranoia grips his entire being. Lorraine Bracco (the only other actor in the film who gets to bring her own perspective to the table by way of narration) is similarly top-notch in the part of Henry's wife and the way she handles her own characters descent into the world of cocaine and seediness is superb. Robert De Niro works like gangbusters as an idol-like figure for Henry to adore and then there's Joe Pesci as Tommy, as guy with this super casual demeanor that can also be easily agitated and go into a violent rage at the drop of a pin.

He's entertaining to watch in his dialogue delivery but given the kind of unspeakable atrocities he's able to carry out without even so much as blinking, he's also an incredibly intimidating figure and Pesci is able to play off both aspects with incredible skill. Plus, Goodfellas is also the kind of film whose great casting to extends to all of the small but crucial supporting roles, all of the actors do a commendable job making sure their characters fit into this very specific universe Scorsese and fellow screenwriter Nicholas Pileggi have concocted in the process of adapting Pileggi's book Wiseguy. Goodfellas is tremendously powerful cinema, the kind that proves that, yep, Martin Scorsese has earned the reputation he's cultivated as a filmmaker for a reason.