Scorsese's 'GoodFellas' dead on

Daily Arts Writer

In each of the past three decades, Martin Scorsese has directed at least one truly astounding film. After a few generally unnoticed movies, he burst into the 1970's nitty gritty film revolution with "Mean Streets." Three years later with "Taxi Driver," his first collaboration with writer Paul Schrader, Scorsese made Travis Bickle (Robert De Niro) into the world's most misunderstood miscreant, consistently emasculated by his own inability to make his intentions clear. It might be the best film of that decade.

Courtesy of Warner Brothers De Niro doesn't always age quite this gracefully in Martin Scorcese's "GoodFellas."

In 1980, Scorsese, Schrader and De Niro reteamed for "Raging Bull," a boxing biopic that brought a bloody new meaning to "on the ropes" - and again, very possibly the best film of that decade. "The Last Temptation of Christ" and "The Color of Money," two of his other '80s films, also stand tall in his oeuvre.

The 1990s haven't been quite as good to Scorsese. He's had several flops in a row now, including the recent "Bringing Out the Dead." But at the start of this decade, he made the greatest gangster flick this side of "The Godfather," where the protagonist is not a high-ranking Mafioso - hell, he isn't even pure Italian. "GoodFellas" stars Ray Liotta, De Niro and Joe Pesci (who picked up an Oscar for his troubles) as a trio of New York City working wiseguys, following them from the good old days where authorities were bribable and the Mafia was king to the recent past. And it's damn close to being the best film of this decade.

Liotta plays Henry Hill, a Mafia wannabe whose clear blue eyes reflect all the way back to his Irish ancstors. The first lines of his running voiceover tell us all we need to know about him: "As far back as I can remember, I always wanted to be a gangster." Case closed. Throughout "GoodFellas," that's all Henry really wants. He wants to be one of the guys even though the wrong blood runs through his veins, he wants the life, the camaraderie, the love.

He gets it, and then some.

It's Henry's voiceovers that carry us through "GoodFellas," that explain the things that don't make sense, that comment with wrly deadpan humor on the images before us. Often voiceover is just a cover for plot holes and a lack of clarity; not so here. Liotta does excellent voice work, providing just the right balance of subtle enthusiasm and necessary detachment for relaying his life story.

Henry, for his part as a fictional character, is the unsilent observer, our guide on this journey through the depths of a crime family, through the unraveling of an empire, through the thrill of a heist and the pain of a sting. His wife, Karen (Lorraine Bracco), a lone Jew to Henry's lone Irishman in this culture of Italians, narrates later in the film, but she cannot hold a candle to her husband (though she certainly does try, and were Liotta not so great at what he does, she would succeed). The staccato cadences of "Fuck you, pay me, fuck you, pay me," the woodenly amused introduction of dinner participants like Jimmy Two-Times - it all creates an atmosphere of assurance, of security. We are in good hands with Henry, even when his own life is in peril. We are in the best hands with Scorsese.

Scorsese's conception of the film is what marks it as a can't-miss endeavor. There's something about a Scorsese movie that's different from others - you can always tell when you're watching something he's had a hand in. It might be the mobile, fluid camera, or the way he uses a cinematographic trick just right. It might be his ability to choose just the right song to fill out a scene, like the Wall of Sound number "Then He Kissed Me" that accompanies an endless steadicam shot - cribbed by dozens but equalled by few (see "Boogie Nights" for a successful copycat).

Or maybe it's just the slightly seedy, grungy New York City that the majority of his works take place in. It's the kind of city that's so much fun to watch but not where you'd want to live, full of characters with problems galore and no reprieve in sight.

Whatever the reason, "GoodFellas" is a gangster epic of a different color. Our guys are not Mafia royalty with bodyguards and compounds. They do not come through their ordeals with flying colors; some die, and some suffer a fate worse than death - otherwise known as the shnook-laden Witness Protection Program. The heady days of the '60s and '70s give way to the sprawling-out-of-control, drug-fueled desperate hours of the 1980s. Loyalty gives way to betrayal. Planning gives way to impulse. The perfect gangster life gives way to uncertainty in a world where the rules are changing.

The only thing that doesn't tell is Scorsese's unwavering vision of spiraling human nature as it falls prey to circumstance and happenstance. It's enough to remind us that for all the Spielbergs pumping out hit after hit, it's Scorsese who rightfully owns the title of America's greatest living filmmaker.

11-18-99