The Sopranos and American television drama

Gangsters

The era of the gangster movies began shortly after the era of organized crime in the United States first began. The outlaw, in one form or another, has always been a fascination of mainstream America, and this has been reflected in our popular culture. The dime store novels of the nineteenth century were, in some ways, the precursors to the crime-based films of the twentieth century. In these books, characters like Billy the Kid and Jesse James were immortalized as rugged individualists who lived by their own rules and challenged authority in cunning and daring manners. Essentially, the character of the outlaw has been fascinating to American audiences for ages. But what the Wild West outlaw was to audiences of the nineteenth century, the urban, organized crime element came to represent many of the same values in the following century.

Yet, although many of the same values were present, gangsters and Wild West outlaws, as portrayed in books and films, were different in the amount of violence they were associated with. Much of this came as a reaction to the highly visible and publicized acts of murder and mayhem that occurred in the 1930s, in some of the nation's largest and most crime-infested cities. During this age, Chicago emerged as the capital of organized crime in America. One character in particular, Al Capone, managed to both captivate and disgust people around the nation. Literally dozens of Hollywood films were made either directly about Capone or loosely based upon his actions; many of these films were made during his lifetime. Movies like Little Caesar (1930), and Scarface, Shame of a Nation (1931) adapted living characters and recent events into thrilling stories of a mobster's rise and fall from power. This established Capone, and the crime bosses of the 1920s and 1930s, as intensely compelling characters who thumbed their noses at authorities, and managed to live like kings for a brief period of time before being brought to justice. This last theme in most crime films often came as a moral lesson to audiences: although these individuals were fascinating, living such a violent and morally reprehensible existence always possessed dire consequences.

One of the most famous and popular crime films of the 1930s was Angels with Dirty Faces (1938). This film was an intensely moralized tale of the rise and fall of gangsters in the United States; ultimately, it is made clear that the consequences of the violent lives of gangsters are equally violent -- as the famous closing seen of an execution in the electric chair reveals. The characters from this film, the Dead End Kids, were so popular that the film spawned a series of related films and spin-offs, which ranged from crime dramas to comedies.

During the following decade saw a bit of a decline in the volume of gangster movies produced in Hollywood. After all, it was an age when the Nazis had suddenly emerged as the major enemy of most Americans; also, the era of prohibition and widespread bootlegging had come to a close. Nevertheless, a handful of popular gangster films still made it to the big screen; Lady Scarface (1941), Johnny O'Clock (1947), and Dillinger (1945) all followed the similar pattern of the rise and fall of these compelling urban outlaws.

The 1950s returned to the trend of producing biographical accounts of famous American mobsters in the Bonnie Parker Story (1958), Baby Face Nelson (1958), Machine-Gun Kelly (1958), and Al Capone (1959). Unlike many of their early counterparts, which were often thinly-veiled biographies of such individuals but with different names, these films borrowed the famous names but often embellished the stories to make them more appealing to movie-going audiences. One subtle change to the persistent themes in these films was than in many cases, it was no-longer apparent whether the police were consistently fighting for the common good or whether they were criminals themselves. This may have been a consequence of the early post-war political atmosphere, in which communists emerged as the enemy of the United States and many questioned the validity of condemning such a group in a society where political freedom was supposedly an innate right.

During the 1950s and into the 1960s heist dramas began to become more popular with audiences and filmmakers alike. Robbery (1950) and Crime Wave (1953) are two examples of this trend. In these films the plots often became more complex, and the main action of them involved the ingenious schemes devised to commit an individual crime; this was a clear departure from the biographical epic accounts of famous gangsters, which dominated Hollywood before this time. However, also in the 1960s, many crime-based films began to follow the trend established by the immensely successful and popular James Bond film series. These films surrendered realism in their plots and characters for the benefit of generating fantastically exciting storylines, along with a series of incredible stunts. This oftentimes campy approach spilled over into the gangster film genre, and spies often became a major component of crime dramas. Nevertheless, the biographical epics remained fairly popular in the 1960s with Bonnie and Clyde (1967) was perhaps the most successful of these films, and reflected Americans' continuing fascination with violent criminals who live by their own rules, but often suffer an early demise because of it.

The early 1970s saw the creation of a pair of the most critically acclaimed and influential gangster movies that were ever created. The Godfather (1972) and the Godfather Part II (1974) arguably set the tone for organized crime-based films for the next three decades. These films took a somewhat unique approach to the long-established biographical account of the life of a gangster. The films were immersed in the Italian immigrant culture out of which much organized crime in the United States originated. In both installments of the Godfather, the characters were no-longer sensationalized creations coming purely out of the minds of Hollywood writers and directors; instead, these characters stove for a level of realism that made these intensely violent characters relatable as well as compelling. Fortunately for the makers of the Godfather films, crime films in general were experiencing a powerful comeback in the 1970s. An indication of this fact is that four consecutive years, from 1971 to 1974, crime-based dramas won the Academy Award for Best Picture; these films were both installments of the Godfather, as well as the French Connection (1971), and the Sting (1973).

Following these successes, however, gangster films saw a bit of a subsidence during the 1980s. Few films were able to adapt the formula mastered in the Godfather, and mold it into something original that movie goers had not yet experienced. A few notable exceptions to this trend were Once Upon a Time in America (1984) and the Untouchables (1987). Although Once Upon a Time in America received much critical acclaim, it was a box office flop. The Untouchables, on the other hand, drew in millions by, once again, evoking the mythic characters of Al Capone and Elliot Ness. The heroes of this film, like many crime films of the age, were on the side of the law; there was something more of a clear distinction between right and wrong, good and bad in the 1980s than appeared in the decade that preceded it. Scarface (1983) was the major gangster biography of the decade, and it reflected again the theme of moral corruption followed by a violent demise for criminals.

The tone, theme and plot of gangster and crime films took a dramatic turn during the 1990s, during which time two main film directors emerged as the dominant influences upon the entire genre: Martin Scorsese and Quinton Tarantino. Scorsese's manner of storytelling followed, to some extent, the traditional plotline of rise and fall in the lives of gangsters. However, each of his films approached this from a gritty and realistic point-of-view -- not shying away from violence -- and yet humanizing the characters by strongly developing the Italian mobster setting out of which they emerged. The most notable Scorsese films of the 1990s were Casino (1995) and, what it widely considered to be his masterpiece, Goodfellas (1990). Scorsese's films and many of the 1990s gangster movies, have commonly featured famed actors Robert De Niro, Al Pacino, Joe Pesci and Harvey Keitel. Keitel, in particular, has also made repeated appearances in Tarantino's crime dramas as well.

Though Scorsese adapted the traditional gangster-drama story arc to modern times, Tarantino took a decidedly different approach to the gangster film. Deeply influenced by filmmaker John Woo, Tarantino took a blend of non-stop action and hip culture references, and used them to humanize his usually very violent characters with snappy and highly original dialog. Tarantino's Reservoir Dogs (1991) set the tone for this new brand of gangster films; the film is spliced together at different points in time, with the major plotline following a violent shooting after a botched bank robbery. Tarantino followed it up with Pulp Fiction (1994) which won the Palme D'or at the Cannes Film festival and was ranked by the American Film Institute as one of the greatest 100 films of the twentieth century -- just behind Goodfellas, which was ranked at number 94.

The 1990s also saw innovative interpretation of law enforcement's role in the perpetuation of organized crime. One of the most notable examples is L.A. Confidential (1997), in which corruption has reached so deep into the Los Angeles police department that two seemingly unrelated criminal investigations both lead to the police chief. The genre also proved its adaptability and continued appeal with Heat (1995) and Carlito's Way (1993); both films starred Al Pacino, and Heat brought Pacino together with De Niro in two of the most memorable scenes in the pair's careers.

Prior to 1999, however, the gangster genre had not successfully expanded to television. But in January of this year, HBO's the Sopranos debuted with considerable critical acclaim. Again, the emphasis of the Sopranos, directed by David Chase, was upon realism. One of the most powerful appeals of the series was the portrayal of the delicate balance the main protagonist, Tony Soprano, works to maintain between life at home, and his life as an organized crime member. Like the Godfather and Goodfellas, the Sopranos take the biographical approach to the gangster genre. By working this methodology into television, the Sopranos is often credited with initializing a trend of bringing significantly more artistry to television dramas; many of the HBO series that followed -- such as Oz, the Wire, and Deadwood -- continued this trend of complex plot lines combined with authenticity and violent realism.

Organized crime films, on the other hand, have seen something of a subsidence in recent years, but have continued to show their resilience, and reflect the seemingly limitless interest American audiences have in the criminal element. One of the most original contributions to the crime film was Sin City (2005), which was a comic book style adaptation of Frank Miller's urban gothic stories. Though crime films in general have not slowed down to any reasonable extent, it would seem that the influence of the Godfather, Goodfellas, and more recently, the Sopranos has made filmmakers wary of approaching the bio-epic approach to American gangster stories, for fear of falling short of the immense success of these pieces of work.

In many ways, these three gangster-based film/television adaptations are very similar. The most obvious similarity is their apparent concern for creating realistic characters and situations. All three attempt to accomplish this by firmly establishing the cultural setting in which Italian organized crime has survived for the better part of a century. This should not be altogether surprising since all three directors -- Scorsese, Coppola, and Chase -- are all of Italian descent and, in many ways, have been exposed to the underpinnings of organized crime through much of their lives. Accordingly, the audience is not presented with the mythic, bigger-than-life characters who dominated the gangster movies of the early portion of the twentieth century. Instead, the very human and relatable qualities of these characters are juxtaposed against their oftentimes violent and reprehensible actions as gangsters. The protagonists are neither clearly heroes nor clearly villains; this makes them, in many ways more compelling, and certainly more complex. This also reflects the increased level of sophistication among American movie goers and television viewers; they expect to be presented with characters and storylines that are believable because, after all, the existence of organized crime has remained a very real facet of American life for generations. So, of course, bringing an understandable element to this lifestyle aids viewers in comprehending how such violent individuals can actually exist.

The Godfather movies clearly represent a turning point in the method of the biographical approach to crime films. Prior to the Godfather, gangsters had rarely been treated with much empathy in the movies, and their characters had not been granted any significant levels of psychological depth or feeling. Coppola broke with this tradition, and attempted to represent the organized crime families of the United States as operating in a way similar to a feudal society. From this standpoint, the Corleone family was depicted as something of a royal family within the mafia underworld; in this way, the violent actions of the main characters and, particularly, the transformation of Michael Corleone from a "civilian" into the Godfather, were characterized as being at least partially results of matters of family honor and pride. With this interpretation of Italian-based organized crime, Coppola made his characters decidedly more relatable than past filmmakers had attempted.

Coppola was not the first choice as director of the Godfather. Although he won the 1971 Academy Award for his screenplay for Patton, he was a relative unknown as a director. Furthermore, he was apprehensive about taking-on the task of depicting the mafia in America (Hughes 126). However, he was given the right to work on the film adaptation of the book -- which was originally written by Mario Puzo -- along with the original author. Coppola's earlier works as a director had been Dementia 13 (1963), Finian's Rainbow (1963), and the Rain People (1969). Despite this rather inauspicious resume, and skepticism of the project, once assigned to the Godfather, Coppola immediately began to shape it from the vision Paramount executives had for the film, into the picture of the Italian mafia that he believed the film should be.

The fundamental theme of the Godfather is that there are essentially two sides to the Don. Publicly, he is the smiling friend to everyone and the gentle father. But this facade stands in stark contrast to the dark and secretive office in which all of the Don's shady schemes are hatched. This is a theme that we see reflected in the more modern the Sopranos. This stands as a necessary component of humanizing a character that might otherwise be difficult to comprehend; after all, he is a man who possesses deep loyalties to his family, but who also is unafraid to commit heinous acts of murder and violence. Coppola's interpretation of the mafia underscores the idea that this violence is truly a consequence of family loyalty, and that this is a carryover from long-established Italian social organizations.

However, Don Vido also functions as something similar to an unofficial member of royalty; he exists as a form of justice that, somehow, the ordinary functioning of United States society does not possess. Accordingly, the Don's position as an organized crime figure positions him such that matters of honor and injustice can be addressed in perhaps more violent or morally questionable ways than the American justice system will legally allow for. This theme is reflected in one of the first scenes of the film -- which happens to be the first scene of the novel -- in which Amerigo Bonasera asks the Don to take revenge upon two men who have beaten his daughter, and escaped the sort of justice that he believes they deserve. Bonasera defends his actions by saying, "I believe in America," (the Godfather 1972). However, it is clear that there is a point where the authority of the American government ends and the authority of the old Sicilian regime begins.

Of course, one of the major reasons Marlin Brando won an Oscar for his performance is that he plays the family side of the Don equally well as the side that coldly orders men's deaths. In a scene that is crucial to the development of the family side of the Don, he plays with his grandson in the garden before suffering a heart attack. This reveals that he is a man capable of tenderness, but primarily only to those who are members of his family, or to whom he owes a certain amount of respect. Otherwise, anyone is fair game in the aims of "business." Meanwhile, the family and extended family of the Corleones weaves a web of plot and subplot that reflects the dynastic culture that the Italian mafia is supposed to represent: "Aside from the male members of the family's numerous business meetings, the clan is depicted domestically as a normal family, almost of soap opera dimensions," (Hughes 131). Overall, although the common morals of American culture may not directly apply to these individuals, they are depicted as possessing an obligation to family first, and accordingly, they are justified in their own minds in being a portion of the criminal element in the United States.

It is this obligation to the family that initiates virtually the entire plot within the film. This is largely why it is essential for a character like Michael, played by Pacino, to exist within the Corleone family. By joining the armed services, Michael attempts to both distance himself from the criminal foundations of his family and identify with a different cause -- that of mainstream United States society. He is ridiculed by his brother for such a choice, and is, for a time, left out of the day-to-day workings of the family. Michael, after relating a violent story to his future wife, Kay, states, "That's my family, Kay," and attempts to reinforce the notion that he is separate from his family and their values; however, eventually this proves to be untrue (the Godfather 1972). One of the defining moments for Michael's character is when the Don is laying in the garden, nearing death, and he says, "I refused to be a fool, dancing on a string held by all those big shots," (the Godfather 1972). He mentions that he had hoped Michael would be able to become a senator or governor, but that there simply "wasn't enough time." Michael assures his father that "we'll get there," (the Godfather 1972). This exchange reveals that Michael has been drawn fully into the family, and, despite his earlier claims that his values are different from those of his father, they have actually become identical.

The scene is also important for establishing the root reasons why the Don and his family feel justified in breaking the law. Broadly, they resent the power that the United States government holds over them, which from their point-of-view is corrupt and unjustified. According to the Corleones, power and stability comes from the family and through the honor within it; it does not come from some outside, official entity such as the government.

In this way, Coppola manages to provide a moral template from which the Corleone family operates. This is one of the features of the gangster film genre that was missing almost completely up until this point. Michael is, perhaps, the most relatable character, because he possesses an obvious appreciation for the core values of American life, but is nonetheless shown to hold most powerful and significant ties to his family than to the letter of the law. Through him, the audience is able to at least partially understand how an ordinary American citizen could potentially be drawn into a life of crime; the only way is if they are forced to choose between the family and the abstract premises behind the United States' laws.

The morality of the characters in the Godfather is, in many ways, a reflection of a trend in American storytelling; a trend that has attempted to build a somewhat romanticized image around the character of the outlaw. This, of course, already occurred with the Wild West outlaws in the novels of the nineteenth century and in the Hollywood productions of the twentieth century. Perhaps the most lasting image of the American hero is the cowboy -- the last man who was free to forge his own destiny in the American wilderness. Like all heroes, however, the cowboy was guided by commonsense moral codes; Faludi notes that "the cowboy of the myth wasn't trigger happy and he wasn't a dominator," (Faludi). Even the Hollywood depictions of historical figures that were, in their time, vile brutes represent attempts to capture some innate morality in their actions. One such example is the 1993 film Tombstone, which portrays the Earp brothers as renegade enforcers of the law -- as they saw it -- and as men who never shot first. This is despite the historical evidence that indicates the legendary fight at the O.K. Corral was merely an ambush; the "outlaw" cowboys may have been fired upon before they even knew the Earps were there (Earp Trial Homepage). Additionally, the Earps history of drunken rowdiness and debauchery is wholly ignored by the film. Overall, most Hollywood representations of Wild West heroes follow the monomyth archetype, irrespective of historical accuracy.

Coppola, however, pulls few punches in his depiction of the American mafia. Although the characters are certainly moralized, and situated in some ways as searchers of the American dream, the violence they perpetuate is not toned down or stylized within the films. The death of Luca Brasi, for example, is exceptionally brutal: "He meets Bruno Tattaglia and Sollozzo in a bar, but ends up with his hand pinned to the bar with a knife and a garrotte looped around his neck. Coppola doesn't spare us the sight of Brasi's choking," (Hughes 132). Similarly, when Michael shoots Sollozzo and McCluskey, the murders are represented in gruesome realism; brain matter, blood, and final death struggles are all represented in the murders. In this way, there is nothing truly heroic or glorious about these killings; they are deliberately made this way by Coppola to continue the theme of the dichotomy in the lives of the men within the Corleone family -- and within the mafia in general.

Nevertheless, this violence is depicted as truly a consequence of wanting the best for one's family. In this way, the lives of the Corleones are somewhat skewed versions of the American dream; one in which the major obstacle toward attaining power and prestige, which is promised by the American dream, is the federal government. It is an adaptation, once again, of the cowboy myth in American culture: the notion that being an individualist, and adhering to one's own notions of morality can result in success. Nevertheless, more urban versions of the cowboy myth can be found in the media. One of the most common characters that elementally captures this persona is the renegade cop; found in such films as Lethal Weapon, Dirty Harry, Rush Hour, and Sin City. The characters from these films satisfy the requirements for the cowboy myth because, although they are willing to bend some of the rules, they do so as a representation of their own notions of morality; they still work for the greater good. Additionally, these characters only shoot in self-defense, they protect the innocent, and they are committed to stopping those who violate their principles of action. Yet, they remain symbols of individuality because they choose to operate outside the policies that prevent them from supporting the primary morals of society. Still, they fail to match the image of the cowboy perfectly; they are unable to wholly strike-out on their own, explore new lands, or live off the wilderness. It is chiefly the notion that we can live our own lives, not violate any of our beliefs, and still reach our goals that is perpetuated in many crime films and adapted into the Godfather. Coppola's characters are an even more problematic fit than the renegade cops; yet this is intentional to some degree. It is important that the contrast between the two lives of the Don are stark, so that the audience is impacted by the element of self-deception in their moral codes.

Essentially, the theme of the family man fighting for a better life for his children is carried through into the Godfather Part II. Some of the most powerful scenes of this installment involve Vito Corleone as an up and coming mobster in New York in the early twentieth century. One of the most brilliant juxtapositions of the two sides of the Don occurs when Vito commits his first murder, that of Don Fanucci, and then is shown celebrating independence day on the steps of his apartment building with his infant son sitting on his lap. The message is clear: these murderous actions are done for the good of the family.

In this way, Vito Corleone is depicted as a pursuant of the American dream; yet his son, by putting the needs of his business ahead of the needs of his family, brings about the destruction of both. Clearly, both installments of the Godfather rely upon the importance of the family and the troubles facing individuals attempting to attain the American dream. The American dream essentially signifies the notion that hard and consistent work can eventually provide anyone with what they desire for survival. America is one of the first places in the history of civilization in which the concept that everyone can make something of themselves has been prevalent -- that an individual can start with nothing, and end up with everything. This, however, is merely a theoretical notion; in reality, numerous limitations obstruct acquisition of the American dream from multiple angles. The dream has established a cultural mentality that justifies the status quo, and lends credence to the successes or failures of the individual: it makes the individual the only one responsible for their plight or their dominance. Inherent restraints on success exist in the very structure of our society -- in the organization of our cities. These structural restraints tend to also support the status quo, and additionally, amplify its consequences. Organized crime, as the films depict, is something of an oppressive force for Vito -- as is the poverty experienced by immigrants, particularly those of Italian descent. Accordingly, his act of murder is nothing more than a method of freeing himself and his family from the unjust limitations put upon their efforts for success in American society.

Of course, the Godfather Part I and II significantly influenced how the film industry and American society as a whole understood the role of the gangster in the United States. In short, it became a far more nuanced and relatable conception of the mafia. Although this humanistic portrait of the American mobster may have been somewhat more accurate, with respect to how these individuals actually viewed themselves, later films would attempt to better represent the truly chaotic nature of organized crime -- one in which the feudalistic society depicted in the Godfather films was less rigid. The Corleones were driven, at least at first, by honor and concern for one's family. However, many of the characters involved in real organized crime are motivated by personal greed, and possess no clear familial ties or much apparent loyalty -- other than to the friends they make in the business.

Goodfellas, though taking the biographical approach to gangster films once again, was adapted from the true story of Henry Hill, in the book Wiseguy, written by Nicholas Pileggi. This made is different from the Godfather in that the film truly captured the unstable nature of organized crime in New York; this was in contrast to the feudalistic interpretation of the mafia that Coppola depicted in his films. Although this structured society definitely is present in Scorsese's version of the mafia, Goodfellas depicts a world in which the outlying gangsters, and those possessing very few loyalties, play a significantly larger role in the way the underworld operates. Additionally, the film makes it apparent that many of the most violent acts that occur within the setting of organized crime are not the result of orders handed down from the godfather, but are often simply the result of flared tempers among scores of very violent men.

Some of these alterations to the iconic picture of the mafia and gangsterism presented by Coppola can be said to be a result of the true-crime aspect of the story of Henry Hill. However, many of the alterations to the gangster image portrayed in Goodfellas were likely a consequence of Scorsese's unique vision of what organized crime truly represented in the city of New York. Scorsese, by this time in his career, had already achieved significant critical acclaim for his dark visions of the New York underworld. His first major film Mean Streets brought together what would become two of the most significant actors in crime-based films during the 1970s, 1980s, 1990s and into the twenty-first century -- Robert De Niro and Harvey Keitel. This film brought Scorsese to his roots in Little Italy -- the section of New York City in which he was born and raised -- and focused on several themes that would resurface throughout his career as a filmmaker; these themes included "macho posturing, bloody violence, Catholic guilt and redemption, gritty New York locale, rapid-fire editing, and a rock soundtrack," (wikipedia).

Most of Scorsese's films, throughout his career have used New York as not simply the setting, but almost as a character within the films. Taxi Driver (1976) created a frighteningly dark, isolated and violent picture of 1970s New York, and further solidified De Niro's career, following the Godfather Part II, as an intense and varied actor. The city itself, in Taxi Driver, though filled with millions of people, became a source of the main character's alienation from society, and descent into utter madness. The morally deprived, crime ridden, and violent city of New York emerges within this film as almost a supernatural force, shaping human beings and molding them into miniature replicas of is dark nature. This theme remains within Scorsese's next great vision of New York -- Goodfellas.

Following Taxi Driver and Raging Bull (1980), Scorsese experienced a decade of subtle departures from the films of his early career, which featured extreme violence, machismo, and the pervasive theme of the power of the social setting. However, his return to the subject of Little Italy and the world of New York gangsters in 1990, according to many, resulted in what many believe to be the most significant film of his career and, perhaps, the greatest gangster film of all time. Goodfellas was a box office smash and opened to widespread critical acclaim. Scorsese adopted much of the formula invented by the early Warner Brothers gangster films of the 1930s, the Public Enemy in particular, but mixed it with his own blend of editing, dialog, style, themes, and morality.

Essentially, Goodfellas exists as a modern installment of the famous gangster bio-epics -- just as the Godfather was. However, Goodfellas, unlike the Godfather, is based upon the lives of actual gangsters; this makes it similar to the dozens of bio-epic gangster movies that came out in the 1930s and 1940s. Yet unlike these early films, Scorsese, and co-writer Pileggi, strove to make their depiction of the mafia as realistic as possible. This meant that not only were the murderous exploits of these gangsters represented within the film, but their motivations, morals, and actual functioning of their lives emerged as key points of interest within the story. These goals made Goodfellas a new and modern blend of the old approach to the gangster movie, the vision created by Coppola's acclaimed films, and the impressionistic style unique to Scorsese's earlier films set in New York City.

This mixture of interpretations of the gangster life resulted in the similar, big happy family version of the Italian mafia, in which good Italian food and eating was always central toward forming bonds of camaraderie, which was depicted in the Godfather. Yet, the friendship and family atmosphere is significantly more tenuous in Scorsese's vision of the mafia; the threat of violence is always palpable. One of the most famous scenes of the film makes this atmosphere exceedingly apparent; Ray Liotta's character tells Joe Pesci's character that he is "really funny," after relating a comical story that resulted in laughter from the entire company at dinner. "What do you mean, I'm funny?" replies Pesci, whose character, Tommy De Vito was based upon the real-life gangster Tommy DeSimone (Goodfellas 1990). Tommy proceeds to rant for several minutes, asking Henry Hill -- Liotta's character -- "You mean, funny like a clown? I amuse you?" with the threat of violence apparently very near at hand just moments after the friends had been enjoying a cordial meal (Goodfellas 1990). Although it is eventually revealed that Tommy is joking with Henry once again, it is clear that this family atmosphere only extends so far among men who are willing to commit the most heinous acts of violence at only the slightest provocation. In this way, the gangsters within Scorsese's Goodfellas are not the same men in Coppola's the Godfather. They are not, first and foremost, concerned with the honor of the family with which they are associated; instead, they are incredibly brutal men, whose motivations for violence often involve monetary gain, but can also involve petty insults and revenge.

Still, one of the important themes running throughout Goodfellas and all of Scorsese's films that utilize New York as a setting, these sometimes horrific characters are largely products out of the setting in which they grew-up and learned how to live their lives. The main character, Henry Hill, is widely compelling in this regard. Just as the character of Michael Corleone is eventually roped into the role of the Godfather as a consequence of his deep ties to the family out of which he came, Henry Hill becomes indoctrinated into the role of a gangster due to the immense influence of the mafia in the portion of New York in which he grew up. Hill, because he is of Irish descent, is made aware very early that he will never be capable of reaching the highest ranks within the Cicero crime family; this is because only one hundred percent Italians are allowed to become "made" men, which means they are untouchable by those associates of the family who are lower in the ranks. Nevertheless, Hill becomes immersed in the criminal happenings within the family simply because it has surrounded him since his early childhood, and fascinated him since as far back as he can remember. In this way, Hill is made into a mobster not clearly out of any innate evil residing within his character, nor is made into a mobster because of issues of honor and familiar obligations; Hill becomes a mobster, a criminal, and a violent man because it is the only social structure and culture he has ever experienced.

The power of Goodfellas is that the storytelling techniques used truly create a picture of the gangster life that is, at least on some levels, appealing. Hill was not born into the gangster life, only the setting in which it resided. but, with the use of narration, the audience learns, "As far back as I can remember, I've always wanted to be a gangster.... To me, being a gangster was better than being President of the United States. You were treated like a film star," (Goodfellas 1990). These words are brilliantly voiced, during the film, as the audience is shown three well-dressed men, opening the trunk to an automobile, and stabbing a man in the trunk with a large butcher knife. This is, obviously, the dark side of the gangster life; yet it is clear that there is also a certain power associated with such terrible actions. We later learn that the victim in the trunk is killed because of a minor verbal insult he gave Tommy. By being a gangster, Hill lives in a world where respect and royal treatment come out of a willingness to be extraordinarily violent. Hill's wife, Kay, is mesmerized by the way Henry is treated by those lower on the totem poll. It is clear that Henry, Tommy and Jimmy possess power, wealth, and widespread respect that they could never have attained without the fear that surrounds them; this is the appeal of the life of a gangster; and it has virtually nothing to do with the rules of loyalty and honor that Vito Corleone attempted to instill in his son, Michael, in the Godfather. Because of these alterations to the gangster image of old Hollywood and the feudalistic mafia depicted in the Godfather, Goodfellas emerged as one of the most significant gangster films of all time. Scorsese maintained Coppola's concern for realism, but combined it with a vision of the lower levels of the mafia, in which honor meant very little next to power and the threat of violence. Hill notes in the voiceover, "Murder was the only way that everybody stayed in line.... You got out of line, you got whacked," (Goodfellas 1990).

Of course, Hill's story follows the traditional trope of lowly beginnings, rise to power, and the fall into the clutches of justice. But the form of justice that Hill experiences is significantly different than one sees in the gangster films that preceded Goodfellas. There is no violent end, such as Pacino's bloody death in Scarface, and there is no triumph of the justice system, like what is depicted of Capone in the Untouchables. Instead, Hill avoids both the form of justice that the mob seeks against him, and any significant amount of jail time; he becomes and informant to the FBI and his testimony lands some fifty other gangsters in prison for serious lengths of time.

Yet, as with the Godfather, we are presented with an image of Hill's life as being something akin to the dark side of the American dream. He attains wealth, power, and prestige, but these things are directly derived from his involvement in murder, gambling, prostitution and drugs. We watch Henry's descent into drug-induced paranoia and betrayal, all stemming from his life of crime. But unlike the tough life of Vito Corleone, which we see in the Godfather Part II, Henry Hill is not brought into a the life of the gangster purely out of necessity or out of a desire to improve the lot of his family; Henry has always sought the immense status associated with organized crime. Goodfellas reveals that this status is attainable, but at the cost of a moral existence, and, ultimately, that the achievements of the gangster are ephemeral. Hill enters the witness protection program and becomes an "ordinary citizen" by the end of the film. Though this might not seem like punishment for a man who was involved in murders, extortion, beatings, and drug trafficking, to Hill, it represents the end of the life he had always wanted for himself. By the end of the film, gone is the rock star status that he wowed his wife with, and that made him feel like a big shot. Gone is the feeling that he was smarter than everybody else who worked ordinary jobs, made no money, and got no respect. Scorsese's point here is two fold: first, it is a critique of the American justice system that a man like Hill can avoid what most people would term justice; and second, it is an illustration of the idea that his life in little Italy shaped him into something that is utterly incongruous with the "normal" life he has before him.

The impact of Goodfellas upon gangster movies and popular culture was almost as immense as the impact of the Godfather. Taken together, Coppola's and Scorsese's pictures of the Italian mafia in America came together to form the image that many Americans are familiar with today. It is significant, as well, that this image has also been accepted by modern-day gangsters and members of the mafia -- as depicted in David Chase's the Sopranos. David Chase, when discussing the process of creating the HBO television series called Goodfellas his "Koran," (Stark). Additionally, the characters within the television series repeatedly reference both films, and possess an obvious reverence for the characters portrayed by Al Pacino and Robert De Niro.

As one would expect with a program influenced so strongly by both of these films, the Sopranos depicts a version of mafia life in which the feudalistic structure is of high importance, but also in which acts of random and senseless violence are also the norm. Tony Soprano, the series' main character, is a high-ranking member of the Soprano crime family, which has reached agreements with neighboring New York crime families allowing them to operate in New Jersey. In this respect, there is certainly an adherence to something resembling the codes of honor and the structural agreements between competing crime organizations that is depicted in the Godfather films. Also similar to the Godfather, Chase is very concerned with depicting the balance between Tony's life as a family man and his life as a member of the mafia. Meanwhile, the Sopranos presents a version of the mafia that is decidedly modern; gone are many of the traditions and much of the culture associated with their ties to the "old country." Although there is a stressed importance upon good homemade Italian food in both the Godfather and Goodfellas, one of the recurring themes in the Sopranos is that much of this tradition has been lost. Furthermore, most of the strongest ties the characters on the Sopranos hold to their Italian heritages are associated directly with the history of the Italian mob in the United States. This means that the influence of popular culture, as well as films like the Godfather and Goodfellas, has formed the new Mafioso's interpretations of what it means to be Italian, and what their line of work means for them as individuals, as family men, and as Americans.

Yet another major theme with which the Sopranos shows its clear dual influence from the two aforementioned films is the problem of explaining to audiences how such violent criminals came to be who they are. In the Godfather the pervasive idea is that the powerful notions of family, honor, and the obligations that go along with these are what create mobsters. We see this clearly with the conversion of Michael Corleone from a soldier and outsider to his family into the Don. In Goodfellas the recurring Scorsese theme is that the city itself, and the setting within which organized crime occurs, often attracts people to it, and transforms them into the brutal thugs they eventually become. We see this conversion, obviously, with Henry Hill, whose attraction to the star-like lives of the mobsters in his neighborhood eventually builds him into a man who creates power out of the fear of violence.

The characters depicted in the Sopranos show both of these characteristics; they are shaped by their families, but also attracted by the power associated with a life in organized crime. Tony, clearly, possesses long-standing ties to the Soprano crime family from the very beginning of the television series. An obvious example of the dual attraction depicted in the series, however, comes from Tony's son, a.J. At various points in the storyline, a.J. reveals his familial ties -- such as when he very naively attempts to kill his uncle in response for his father's shooting -- but he also reveals his reverence for the glamour of being a gangster -- such as when he brags to his girlfriend about his role in his family's crime organization.

These influences, in some ways, mirror Chase's influences as a filmmaker. Like Coppola and Scorsese, Chase comes from an Italian background, and grew up in New Jersey -- the setting of the Sopranos. In interviews, Chase has repeatedly identified his parents as a source for much of his work as a writer; he identifies them as being overbearing and his mother as lacking any expressions of compassion or understanding (Biskend). His mother is also the inspiration for the character of Livia Soprano in the television series. Furthermore, "Chase claims his father was an angry man who belittled him constantly as a child and his mother was a 'passive-aggressive drama queen' and 'a nervous woman who dominated any situation she was in by being so needy and always on the verge of hysteria,'" (wikipedia). His parents were a powerful force within the early years of his life, and his difficulties with them led to bouts of depression, which reached from his childhood and well into his college career. All of these different facets of his background become apparent in the well-rounded characters and situations he creates for the Sopranos: "In the Sopranos, he merges Mafia mythology with the realities of impossible mothers, marital difficulties, rebellious children and a world that sometimes can seem a whole lot more manageable on Prozac," (HBO). Despite the clear influence of his childhood upon his writing, Chase was not able to borrow from much direct experience with the Italian mafia.