WORDS: Eoin McCague 

One of the greatest scenes in movie history lasts three minutes and five seconds. It features no memorable dialogue in arguably the most quotable film of all time.  It unashamedly blasts a song by The Crystals whose on-the-nose lyrics are laughable. There is no violence, no swearing, no cocaine, no action, nothing.

It consists entirely of two people making their way to their restaurant seats. The fact they do this via a back door, a sewer system of corridors and a bustling kitchen, all the while weaving in and out of staff while handing out tips on the fly shouldn’t be that exciting. What is it that makes the Copacabana scene in Goodfellas so special?

Because this is Martin Scorsese, the greatest pop director of all time, operating at the peak of his game.

 Oh, and it’s all in one shot.

 Narratively, the Copa scene serves to introduce Karen Friedman (Lorraine Bracco) to the seductive mobster lifestyle of future husband Henry Hill (Ray Liotta). His is a world where you leave the car with a guard who will wait loyally (“better than leaving it at a garage”), a world where you take the back entrance because it’s “much better than waiting in line,” a world where everybody gets twenty dollar tips — even if they’re just eating a sandwich in the corner. Thematically, the scene is also a rich example of the power and social status the Mafia held in the early 70s. As a rising star, Henry would never have had to worry about waiting in line, or not being able to find a table near the house entertainment. Part of Scorsese’s genius is including us through the personification of the Steadicam’s movement. We don’t have to worry about these things either.

Cinematographer Michael Ballhaus has gone on the record stating that the scene took eight takes to shoot and it is believed that it is the eighth that made the cut. Scorsese’s love affair with long takes is no secret. In fact before the Copacabana scene, I would have placed the dressing room shot from Raging Bull on par with Touch of Evil’s opening as the greatest long form shot in history. As it stands, Goodfellas obliterates them both. This is because, rather than focusing on the couple, the audience is placed directly in the Copacabana through ingenious camera techniques. The subtle bobs and weaves, slight directional pans, and comfortable distance maintained behind Henry and Karen allow us to fully believe that we are in the camera’s position. Scorsese wants us to feel like a guest at the Copa because he knows that, just like Karen, we are itching to know what comes after the back door opens.

‘Then He Kissed Me’ in the hands of any other director would have come off as snarky. As it stands the 60s pop classic portrays immediate feelings of nostalgia. Yes, the lyrics are laughably blunt. We are well aware they relate to Karen falling for Henry and Henry falling blindly for the lifestyle he has inherited. However, the song perfectly complements every stylistic aspect of the scene. The airiness of the lyrics seamlessly goes hand in hand with the playful smoothness of the Steadicam’s movement. It ties the scene together and, through the use of a song from a bygone era, perfectly conveys the feeling of innocence that can mirror Karen’s moral state, and the way Henry views his lifestyle.

The Copa scene’s influence is felt to this day. Recently Derek Cianfrance tipped his hat, opening The Place Beyond the Pines with a uninterrupted shot of Ryan Gosling making his way through a bustling fairground. David Fincher incorporated digital trickery to make a trip around a house look harmonious in Panic Room. It is Paul Thomas Anderson though, who has come to the closest to emulating Scorsese’s ingenious timing. His three-minute shot around a pool party in Boogie Nights encompasses a number of characters, pushes forward the plot and even launches the camera into the pool after a bikini-clad beauty.

The Copa scene then, represents the apex of Henry Hill’s career as a mobster. Ironically, it also represents the apex of Scorsese’s. Succeeding films have had moments of style, flashes of grandeur of course (Kundun’s landscapes, Shutter Island’s jump cuts and Hugo’s immersive use of 3D come to mind) but none enjoy the white-hot genius on display in Goodfellas, most noticeably found in this home-run of a scene. When ambition and talent combine to make something that is technically so difficult look so easy, legend status emerges.