While Monty Python 's Life Of Brian amounted to little more than a few angry letters to the Daily Mail, Scorsese received death threats for his daring adaptation of Nikos Kazantzakis's novel. So the last thing the director wanted to do was throw himself into a picture that might piss off the Mafia. Goodfellas, however, was a film he'd felt compelled to make since read Nicholas Pileggi's Wiseguy on the set of The Color Of Money in
It's hard to believe now that Scorsese was in the midst of a career low after The Last Temptation Of Christ before starting on Goodfellas. This is a director in total control of everything at his disposal to film the story he was born to tell, from the astonishingly powerful and expensive soundtrack, through to the flawless casting and rounded off by Thelma Schoonmaker's visceral editing. And none of them even make it into our top five.
By Kyle Smith. If I had been a cartoon character, I would have had stars dancing around my head like Wile E. Just kidding.
Inafter Karen Friedman and Henry Hill — the notorious New York gangster whose life story was made famous by the book Wiseguy and subsequent film adaptation Goodfellas — had been dating for a few months, a neighbor of hers named Ted tried to force himself on her. She slapped him and he relented, angrily pushing her out of his car and driving away. Then she called Henry.
The camera pulls back on the gold, Catholic cross hanging around Henry's neck as the door opens on Karen's house for their next date. At the door's threshold, she covers up all evidence of the crucifix by buttoning up his shirt before her Jewish mother Suzanne Shepherd meets him and asks about his supposed half-Jewish heritage. Good-looking Henry answers: "Just the good half.
For two days after I saw Martin Scorsese's new film, "GoodFellas," the mood of the characters lingered within me, refusing to leave. It was a mood of guilt and regret, of quick stupid decisions leading to wasted lifetimes, of loyalty turned into betrayal. Yet at the same time there was an element of furtive nostalgia, for bad times that shouldn't be missed, but were.
To work out whether the de-ageing could work, Scorsese looked back at his own films. He did his monologues and soliloquies and different expressions. Get rid of the Cadillac!
Henry Hill has died — of natural causes. Henry didn't die the way he expected to. He got whacked in hospital by heart failure at the age of 69, and not by the deadpan wiseguy he reportedly anticipated every day of his life, exacting revenge for his betrayal.
The short actor with an even shorter fuse became famous for playing ruthless mobsters eager to inflict pain, and often their propensity for violence catches up to them — sometimes in savage fashion. In a classic scene from the hit "Goodfellas," Pesci's Tommy DeVito pretends to be on the verge of blowing up on one of his friends, only to explode a moment later when the club owner comes over with the bill. When Pesci leans in and grabs the guy's tie, you just know there's trouble in store.
In fact, Scorsese even left out a Hill crime that eventually became a national sports controversy: Boston College's point-shaving scandal. In the ESPN documentary Playing for the Mobwhich chronicles the history of the scandal, Hill claims he mentioned the operation to federal investigators in passing after flipping on his mob associates in without knowing that point-shaving was illegal. By all accounts, Lucchese crime family associate Thomas DeSimone, portrayed by Joe Pesci as Tommy DeVito in the film, was every bit as ruthless, explosively-tempered, and murderous as his onscreen counterpart.