Goodfellas (1990)
Introduction
Hello you. Make a cup of tea. Put a record on. Something bleak, probably Leonard Cohen or the distant sound of your neighbour's dreams collapsing.
It's 1990. Thatcher's Britain is gasping its last miserable breath; the Poll Tax riots have kicked off, poll tax forms set alight on the streets. Meanwhile, America serves up Goodfellas, a film so cynical, funny, and violent it might as well have been made for exhausted British sensibilities craving escape through someone else's corruption. It's a gangster film from Martin Scorsese, sure, but it's also a searing takedown of every hollow myth capitalism ever sold you.
Plot Summary
Henry Hill grows up idolising gangsters because, honestly, being broke looks shit. We watch him rise through the ranks from petty thief to trusted Mafia associate, living a life of crime and excess. Inevitably, reality catches up. Drugs, paranoia, betrayal, murder—it's all here, a grim carousel spinning faster until everything inevitably flies apart.
Behind the Scenes
Scorsese made Goodfellas after stumbling onto Nicholas Pileggi's Wiseguy, the rare mob book that wasn’t romantic bollocks. The production was chaotic, fuelled by improvisation and real-life mob anecdotes. Warner Bros. execs thought Scorsese was losing his mind with the rapid-fire editing, relentless narration, and brutality. Joke’s on them, as usual.
Joe Pesci’s psychotic mobster Tommy DeVito was partly autobiographical. Pesci based the iconic "Funny how?" scene on his own tense run-in with a real gangster during his early days as a waiter. Scorsese took that and turned it into one of cinema's most nerve-shredding moments.
The legendary tracking shot through the Copacabana nightclub wasn’t originally artistic; they literally couldn't get permission to shoot the front entrance. Scorsese turned inconvenience into brilliance, capturing Henry Hill's entire seductive descent into mob life in one breathtakingly smooth take.
Why It’s a Must-Watch
Goodfellas strips away the glamour and exposes mob life as a hollow, paranoid hellscape of paranoia, drugs, and betrayal. It’s visceral, relentless, and painfully funny, dragging gangster films out of Coppola's grand opera halls and into the grimy kitchen of a coke-addled crook frantically stirring pasta sauce while the FBI circles overhead.
This isn’t romantic gangsterism; it's about idiots getting rich and killing each other over petty grievances. And it's fucking brilliant.
Key Quote
"As far back as I can remember, I always wanted to be a gangster."
— Henry Hill
For Fans Of
Reservoir Dogs (1992). Both films take flashy, violent genres and strip them down to their miserable cores, realising that beneath the glamour, it’s just greedy, frightened men in cheap suits.
Memorable Moments
The "Funny how?" scene, a masterclass of tense, menacing improvisation by Pesci.
The Copacabana tracking shot, cinematic perfection hiding absolute moral decay.
Henry’s coke-fuelled paranoia sequence, capturing the full claustrophobic madness of a man who's utterly fucked it.
Easter Eggs
Scorsese’s mum plays Tommy’s mum, improvising the entire late-night dinner scene.
The painting Tommy’s mother shows off was painted by Nicholas Pileggi’s mum.
The final shot of Tommy firing a pistol at the camera nods directly to the silent-era classic, The Great Train Robbery (1903), suggesting nothing’s really changed about greed and violence in almost a century.
Why You Should Care
Goodfellas matters because it stares capitalism in the face and tells you exactly what it is: organised crime with better marketing. It strips away the glamour and leaves you watching the ugly truth that money corrupts, loyalty is a joke, and the American Dream is a lie built on blood-soaked cash.
Watch it because it's a masterpiece. Watch it because Pesci's performance is so frighteningly real it might ruin your week. Watch it because Scorsese makes every other director look lazy.
See you on down the road.
