A cozy bar is decked out with colorful Christmas lights. “Frosty The Snowman” by The Ronettes plays as champagne glasses clink; when the tune changes to Darlene Love’s “Christmas (Baby Please Come Home),” tokens of appreciation are exchanged.
This is Goodfellas, the classic Christmas movie.
The 1990 gangster film isn’t exactly accepted into the Christmas canon. There’s no unconditional love, innocent hijinks, or happy ending; Paulie Cicero doesn’t learn to appreciate what he has like George Bailey in It’s a Wonderful Life, or save the day through the power of song, a la Buddy in Elf. Instead, it’s packed with profanity and murder, leaving only five minutes of runtime for the distinctly Christmassy scenes.
And yet. For someone like me, who grew up surrounded by my big Italian family (much like mobster Henry Hill and his Family), Goodfellas evokes a sense of tradition and familiarity as much as the seven fishes on Christmas Eve. In the break between antipasto and pasta courses, you could squeeze in a couple of scenes, and return to the dining table after Tommy DeVito and Jimmy Conway whacked Billy Batts. Even now, my husband and I watch it every December (I’d like to watch it biweekly, but not everyone was raised on a Sunday gravy.)
Sure, it’s not as saccharine as a Hallmark flick, but why is that an essential ingredient? What is a Christmas movie, at its core? It’s a familiar story that wraps up neatly at the end — whether that’s with a hug or a grisly murder. There’s always conflict, too — no holiday is perfect! Put some Yuletide decor onscreen, however briefly, and an abundance of food, and you’ve got yourself a classic Christmas movie.
Henry Hill receives a generous gift at the aforementioned bar and indulges in meals made with love by Martin Scorsese’s own mother. The Christmas Spirit even moves him to treat his family with the biggest tree he can find, plus an array of expensive gifts — the temptations of cocaine and hookers be damned! Plus, there are three Christmas songs on the soundtrack.
If Die Hard can be a Christmas movie, so can Goodfellas. And The Godfather can be a Thanksgiving movie… but you’re not ready for that conversation.
