Guise Goodfellas and \"Tough Guise\"

¶ … Guise

Goodfellas and "Tough Guise"

In "Tough Guise: Violence, Media and the Crisis in Masculinity," Jackson Katz shows a clip from Martin Scorsese's 1990 film Goodfellas in which the character Henry Hill (played by Ray Liotta) pistol whips the neighbor of his girlfriend Karen (Lorraine Bracco). According to the film's cinematographer Michael Ballhaus, it was the "most violent scene" he had ever filmed: "There's so much energy in this shot. The violence is shocking, it comes out of nowhere" (Penn, 2010). The film's realistic depiction of violence and wise guy machismo are two reasons Goodfellas has achieved iconic status in pop culture. But as Katz argues, and as Scorsese attempts to show, the "tough guise" of Henry Hill and friends is as equally repellant as it is attractive. This paper will examine how Goodfellas presents both the reasons why men and women are attracted to the "tough guise," and the reasons why the "tough guise" is ultimately an unfulfilling avenue through life.

Based on the non-fiction work Wiseguy by Nicholas Pileggi, Scorsese's Goodfellas was meant to be more than just another gangster movie: It was meant to be a real reflection of the glamour and the horror intertwined within the "tough guise" lifestyle. As Pileggi himself asserted, "There's no sense in making another gangster picture, unless it is as close as possible to a certain kind of reality, to the spirit of a documentary," and this spirit is realized in Scorsese's film (Vervis, 2007, p. 210). Through the use of the freeze-frame and the slow-motion steady-cam shot, both of which emphasize the horrific nature as well as the seductive and hypnotic power of the "tough guise," Scorsese is able to show why the "tough guise" is able to attract and repulse at the same time.

For example, early in the film Henry (still a boy) stops to help a man who has been shot. He is scolded by the wise guys for "wasting eight fucking aprons on this guy." Henry's sympathy for another human being is thus stomped out: "We gotta toughen this guy up" -- is what is heard while Scorsese gives a close-up of Henry's face, brow furrowed, eyes following the wounded stranger who has obviously felt some of the repercussions of dallying with the mob. It is a moment of painful juxtaposition -- painful because it is woefully ironic (Henry is showing manly virtue, and the "real men" with their "tough guise" refuse to allow him to do so). One familiar with Henry's story knows, of course, where it all ends. Henry's sympathy for suffering humanity will turn to blithe indifference as he adopts his "tough guise." His face, however, can never mask what his heart knows: namely, that he may go along with the criminal world out of a longing to belong to something and be respected (the appealing part of the "tough guise") -- but he himself has no taste for the criminal world's inhuman brutality (which is the repellant part of the "tough guise").

The unfortunate and ironic consequence of adopting the "tough guise," as Jackson Katz asserts, is that Henry Hill finally disappears into a world of anonymity where he is a no one in a town of nobodys -- living in an American suburb of the Witness Protection Program. In effect, Scorsese's film is a witness to the fraudulent "tough guise" world that Henry Hill inhabits and, finally, is evicted from. Indeed, this is made all the more apparent in the final moments of the film when Henry leaves the witness stand and seemingly exits the scene, speaking directly to the camera now, as though all that had just been witnessed was an illustration of his courtroom testimony. Scorsese cuts to a boring subdivision: Henry Hill exits his boring house in a bathrobe, stoops to get the newspaper "just like anybody" else, and for a moment remembers that he used to be a gangster. Scorsese cuts to a clip of the violent thug Jimmy (played by Joe Pesci) firing rounds point blank at the audience, and then cuts back to Henry who is either smiling or grimacing at the memory of Jimmy's "tough guise."

Of course, there are moments when Henry Hill himself becomes just as violent as the world he inhabits. The ferocious pistol-whipping is one such scene, referenced in Jackson Katz's "Tough Guise" as a perfect illustration of the kind of brute strength admired by men. Scorsese's use of the freeze frame earlier in the film allows the audience to reflect on the horrific scenes of violence as they unfold: whether one admires the "tough guise" or not, it's terrible effect is never blunted. In the pistol-whipping scene, however, Scorsese allows the film to continue -- and the earlier freeze frame style that was used to shock and introduce the audience to this world of "tough guise" is no longer necessary: if the audience is still watching, it has likely become as captivated by the "tough guise" as Karen, who is about to be handed the bloody pistol used to beat her neighbor.

That Karen admits to being attracted to Henry and his "tough guise" is no surprise. As Jackson Katz explains, she is drawn to what she perceives is a "real man." The sad reality is, however, that her "real man" is a real gangster and will lure her into a criminal world of drug-dealing, murder, and cheating. The realness that she thinks she wants is superficial: By the end of the film she loses everything she has "gained." Her fortune, like her name and status, disappear. She no longer is able to see her family, and the "man" she thinks she has fallen in love with has turned out to be just another "shlub."