Loving Goodfellas
I, like many, have found myself captivated by films. I grow a clinging attachment towards the characters and their stories. I especially admire the 1990 classic, Goodfellas, directed by Martin Scorsese.
Growing up, I remember my dad would always have the film playing on the television. Yet I was too young to watch, so he would switch the channel or tell me to leave the room. Finally after living off clips here and there, I watched the movie entirely. Then I watched it again. Then probably once more. Maybe another time after that. Also a couple hundred more later on.
This film is a dramatized version of the true events in the life of Henry Hill, played by Ray Liotta. The film has won many awards—best film, best actor, best adapted screenplay—and they’re all well-deserved, due to the talented cast and phenomenal directing by Scorsese.
The film gives us a first-person perspective from future Henry’s point of view. With witty banter, he draws the audience in and lets them understand the life he lived. I admire the way the voice controls the story. The writing does a successful job with giving the audience the information they need in a quick and entertaining way that draws viewers in. It makes me feel as though I am having a conversation with the narrator. The presence of Henry's voice creates a connection for the viewer, as if you are having a debrief with a friend.
Henry’s sidekicks in the movie are James Conway, played by Robert De Niro, and Tommy DeVito, played by Joe Pesci, both amazing at their roles. Pesci is able to enlight rage and humor back-to-back; even the audience and our main character can’t figure out when he’s joking or mad. I’d describe De Niro’s James Conway as a level-headed guy, diligent with his quick-thinking skills but addicted to feeling tense and anxious, which seems to consume him more and more later in the film.
In one scene when they murder a man and have to grab a shovel from Tommy’s mother’s house. She sits them down to eat after they’ve disposed of a dead body in the middle of the night. They all joke and eat while Henry tries to stomach what they have done. I find myself laughing along during this scene as well, as if I was at the table with them.
Everyone involved in the film succeeds in convincing the viewer that the gangster life is fun and easy, but as time goes on anxiety eats away at the same people. You always are worried that you are next to go. Finding your way up the ranks in this life is not easy and, in fact, a terrifying reality. I still remember my first watch: sitting on the edge of my seat, almost hoping for a dull moment to occur.
