The 33 Gangster Films You Can’t Refuse


“It’s not just Italian American gangsters. It’s Cagney and Bogart movies, it’s Westerns. Americans seem to have some kind of fascination with outlaws in general. Maybe it’s because we were an outlaw nation to begin with. This nation was born of rebellion against authority, and in a weird way, that’s what these characters represent. That image is very attractive to Americans. It’s part of the national unconscious. It’s practically in our genetic code.”


― Steven Van Zandt in the article ‘A Harried Godfather struggles to balance his personal and professional lives’. By Matt Zoller Seitz in The Star-Ledger, 1-9-1999

Introduction

As far back as I can remember, I always loved gangster movies. Well, that’s not exactly true; I have always loved watching bad guys, so I definitely recognize myself in that Steven Van Zandt quote above – and I’m not even American. As a child, I loved cartoons and action films – like the James Bond movies – that featured inspiring villains.

Then, when I was 13, I saw GoodFellas for the first time. It immediately became my favorite film, my love for the gangster genre was awakened, and I have since watched countless gangster films. So now, more than 30 years later, I have decided to put together my personal ultimate ranking of gangster classics.

But what do I mean by ‘gangster film’? First, I had to get my criteria straight: gangsters must play a lead role in the movie. So is Heat a gangster movie? Definitely. Yes, fifty percent of the film is about the cops trying to catch the robbers, but those robbers play a huge role in the movie. In screen time alone, Neil McCauley’s gang can match most of the other gangsters on this list.

Of the final selection, I had the most doubts about The Untouchables and Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels. The first is really about Elliot Ness and his special police force, but I still felt the gangsters play a very prominent part in the film. Robert De Niro’s Al Capone, in particular, is such a powerful gangster performance that the movie belongs on this list.

As for Lock, Stock: the main characters may not be arch criminals, but they are still up to their necks in crime. Besides, most of the other characters are legendary gangsters such as Hatchet Harry, Big Chris, and Barry the Baptist, so it’s pretty obvious it should be included.

One movie that didn’t make the cut is L.A. Confidential. A brilliant film, surely, but its ‘gangsters’ are mostly crooked cops, and therefore don’t count as gangster characters.

Great movies that almost made the cut: Scorsese’s Mean Streets, which I chose not to include because its characters are so low-level in the underworld and the film features few high-level mobsters.

The terrific A History of Violence, which is more an action thriller focused on the psychology of its characters rather than crime. And Bound, more an erotic thriller in which one main character (Joe Pantoliano’s Caesar) happens to be in the mob.

Movies that do live up to the criteria and almost made it, and therefore deserve an honorable mention: Gotti, A Bronx Tale, The Roaring Twenties, Little Caesar, Scarface (1932), Eastern Promises, and The Public Enemy.

So now, without further ado, I present the 33 gangster films that define the genre for me… Just don’t go busting my balls about the selection, okay?

The 33 Gangster Films You Can’t Refuse

32. Road to Perdition

31. American Gangster

30. The Killing

29. King of New York

28. The Departed

27. In Bruges

26. Ghost Dog: The Way of the Samurai

R.I.P. Big Pussy Bonpensiero

Vincent Pastore, the Italian-American actor from New York who played the legendary Salvatore ‘Big Pussy’ Bonpensiero in The Sopranos, has died. He was 80 years old.

Pastore was a former club owner in New Rochelle, New York. He became friends with Matt Dillon and Kevin Dillon – two of his regulars – who convinced him to try acting. He was in his forties when he got into the business. He died with nearly 200 film credits to his name (including Flodder in Amerika!).

In 1990, he had a small role in GoodFellas (credited as ‘Man with Coatrack’), one of the greatest gangster films ever made. That year marked the start of the decade of the mob movie, and Pastore appeared in many of them: State of Grace, New Jack City, Carlito’s Way, Sugar Hill, Gotti, The Last Don, A Brooklyn State of Mind, and Witness to the Mob.

In 1999, he was cast in The Sopranos as Big Pussy Bonpensiero, one of Tony Soprano’s crew members. His character’s name was based on a real gangster, apparently – something show creator David Chase had picked up somewhere. In fact, there were two Pussys in the mob: Big Pussy and Little Pussy. This became one of the big mob jokes in the pilot episode:

HESH: I hear Junior wants to whack Pussy Bonpensiero?
TONY: Pussy Malanga.
HESH: Oh, Little Pussy?
TONY: Yeah, Little Pussy. What, you think he’s gonna fuck with Big Pussy? My Pussy?

In the first season, Big Pussy became one of the leading characters. Then, in episode 11, Tony is told by a corrupt cop on his payroll that Pussy is a rat. A heartbroken Tony tells his soldier Paulie to go and check, and after a tense confrontation, Pussy flees.

Later that season, Tony suspects the cop was actually referring to Jimmy Altieri, another “fat fuck with black hair”, and Jimmy is killed on Tony’s orders. Pussy is exonerated, but he remains on the run, fearing his friends want to whack him.

When season one became a phenomenal success, fans wondered what happened to Pussy. David Chase realized he had to bring him back for season two. And so Pussy returns – only for us to quickly discover he’s working with the FBI to get Tony indicted. The way Tony eventually discovers this, and deals with it, leads to my favorite moment in The Sopranos in my favorite television episode of all time, from any show.

He would always remain famous for this role. I remember him coming on the ‘Talking Sopranos’ podcast, telling the story of how he took his grandchildren to the zoo and people recognized him: “Hey, it’s Pussy!”

So, 26 years after his fictional death in Funhouse, now Pussy has joined Tony (James Gandolfini) and Paulie (Tony Sirico) in Tony’s heaven crew.

Rest in peace, my friend.

Read some of Big Pussy’s best lines on The Sopranos here.

The Roaring Twenties (1939)


‘America’s Most Colorful Era!’

Directed by:
Raoul Walsh

Written by:
Jerry Wald (screenplay)
Richard Macaulay (screenplay)
Robert Rossen (screenplay)
Mark Hellinger (story)

Cast:
James Cagney (Eddie Bartlett), Priscilla Lane (Jean Sherman), Humphrey Bogart (George Hally), Gladys George (Panama Smith), Jeffrey Lynn (Lloyd Hart), Frank McHugh (Danny Green), Paul Kelly (Nick Brown), Elizabeth Risdon (Mrs. Sherman), Ed Keane (Henderson), Joe Sawyer (The Sergeant)

The Roaring Twenties opens in the immediate aftermath of World War I, as soldiers James Cagney and Humphrey Bogart return home in 1919. They find a nation grappling with economic hardship and rising living costs just as Prohibition is ratified, turning alcohol into both a forbidden fruit and a lucrative business opportunity.

The film follows Eddie Bartlett (Cagney), a former doughboy who seizes the moment and rises to power in the bootlegging underworld. Along the way, he reconnects with Jean Sherman, a woman he corresponded with during the war, securing her a singing job at a nightclub. His path eventually crosses again with his old comrade George Hally (Bogart), now a rival booze importer. Their partnership sours, and tensions escalate when they double-cross fellow bootlegger Nick Brown.

The movie by Raould Walch, who would ten years later make the best gangster film yet at that point – White Heat – is a trendsetter in more than one way. Walsh crafts The Roaring Twenties with a dynamic, almost documentary-like style. Crisp black-and-white cinematography is punctuated by newsreel-style interludes, lending the film an energetic, GoodFellas-esque rhythm. The story of the ‘working gangster’ feels like a clear influence on Scorsese, blending ambition, a jetset lifestyle, and eventually an ugly downfall.

Cagney delivers another magnetic performance as Eddie Bartlett, a character who begins as a mild-mannered entrepreneur, but grows increasingly volatile as his world unravels. What sets The Roaring Twenties apart is its focus on redemption: Eddie’s final act is a selfless one, driven by love rather than greed. It is a rare moral twist for the genre.

Like most gangster tales, it ends with a memorable line, this time spoken by a dame: “He used to be a big shot.”

Rating:

Quote:
EDDIE BARTLETT: “I just ran into a streak of bad luck, that’s all. I’ll be there on top again. I just got to figure out a new angle.”

Trivia:
Gladys George replaced Ann Sheridan (the female star of Cagney’s previous gangster film Angels with Dirty Faces) who had replaced Lee Patrick who had replaced Glenda Farrell for the character of Panama Smith.

Apple TV Special: Mr. Scorsese

Mr. Scorsese is a five episode film portrait about one of the greatest film directors of all time now playing on Apple TV. It’s the most extensive documentary ever shot about the Italian American cinematic master, featuring interviews with a.o. Leonardo DiCaprio, Robert De Niro and Daniel Day Lewis. Reason enough for me to subscribe to Apple TV. An additional benefit of the subscription is that Marty’s latest film – Killers of the Flower Moon – is also available on the channel.

Scorsese is a very sympathetic guy; I have seen many interviews with him before, logical since he’s my favorite filmmaker, but in this series, you really get to know the man. He grew up in Little Italy and later Manhattan. He was very asthmatic as a child and he couldn’t play outside. There is this shot in GoodFellas where a young Henry Hill is staring out of the window observing the wiseguys outside. That’s Marty right there.

Movie theaters had air conditioning, so that’s where young Martin wanted to be as much as possible. He could breath there, and the movies formed his mind. At home he watched old Italian films with his family. He started making extensive storyboards which his father thought wasn’t very manly. Marty learned of the mobsters who controlled much of the economic activity in his neighbourhood. His father had a good job in the garment industry, which was worked out by the mob. He told young Marty: “Don’t ever let them do you a favor. They’re nothing but bloodsuckers.”

The young Scorsese initially wanted to become a priest, but that path wasn’t for him. Neither were the streets. Literature wasn’t part of his culture either, but a priest encouraged him and his friends to look beyond what they knew; to go to college, to read, learn, and explore. He attended a talk about film school and heard a professor speak passionately about cinema. That was the moment he knew what he wanted to do.

At New York film school he met Thelma Schoonmaker, his future editor. She recalls seeing his student work and knowing immediately that “he had it.” His student film It’s Not Just You, Murray! (1964) won the award for Best Student Film. In 1967 he made his first feature, Who’s That Knocking at My Door, starring Harvey Keitel.

Scorsese married young, but his first marriage collapsed quickly because his mind went more and more to making movies. He went to Hollywood to further his career and met an amazing assortment of talent there: Coppola, Schrader, Spielberg, Lucas and De Palma, known collectively as the ‘Movie Brats’. They were given this name because they were the first generation of formally trained filmmakers to unite film knowledge with artistic ambition.

In the early seventies, King of the B-movies Roger Corman gave Scorsese the chance to direct a movie. This became Boxcar Bertha (1972), a Bonnie and Clyde-style crime movie. His artistic friends hated it. Marty thought it was a good practice in shooting on budget and shooting on time, but his friends thought he had betrayed himself as an artist.

John Cassavetes had seen his feature Who’s That Knocking at My Door and advised him to make more personal movies like that. About Boxcar Bertha he said: “You just spent a year of your life making a piece of shit. Don’t do that again.” Scorsese showed him his Mean Streets screenplay and Cassavetes told him to go find a lead actor to star in it. Then he met De Niro who was from the same neighbourhood.

Mean Streets was based on people and experiences from his neighborhood and people fell in love with it, because it felt completely authentic. That makes sense, because it was real. Now, Marty got more opportunities. With his next film Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore (1974), he showed he could also direct women. Ellen Burstyn won the Academy Award for Best Actress for her lead role.

Although Scorsese gained recognition, this period also marked the start of heavy drug use. Film remained his way of working through deep inner turmoil. Drawn to darker characters, he was captivated by Paul Schrader’s script for Taxi Driver. He and De Niro set out to portray a loner like Travis Bickle without turning him into a caricature. Travis is isolated in almost every frame. Taxi Driver (1976) was a huge critical success and won the Palme d’Or.

Everybody praised it. It hit a nerve and showed a true understanding of the American unconscious. A lone man who commits atrocities, like the snipers who killed politicians at that time. Travis has a saviour complex: he wants to save the girls and kill the bad guys. The final scene was too violent for the sensors, so Scorsese changed the colour of the blood to dark, rusty brown or brownish-pink rather than bright red. Daniel Day Lewis was hypnotized by the film and went to see it five or six times. It was the first time he saw Bob (De Niro) act, which was a big thing for him.

After the success of Taxi Driver, he made the costly musical failure New York, New York (1977). His second marriage also fell apart and what started then was a period of self destructive behavior. He started doing lots of drugs and tried to find his cinematic muse again. He almost died – and part of him wanted to because he didn’t know how to create anymore. De Niro had a big part in getting him back on his feet. They went to Sint Maarten where they worked on the script for their next masterpiece: Raging Bull (1980).

Thelma Schoonmaker explains the film’s shooting and editing, and the documentary allows you to rediscover the beauty of its black-and-white imagery. It’s a true work of art. Scorsese had found his muse again, and also his third wife: the daughter of Ingrid Bergman and Roberto Rossellini.

After Raging Bull he wanted to do Gangs of New York and The Last Temptation of Christ. The scripts were there, but the movies were too expensive to make at that time. He did another project with De Niro, The King of Comedy (1982), which flopped. Scorsese’s career was now once again in a bad state. “He was done for in Hollywood”, they told him.

He made a comeback with After Hours (1985), an odd ball comedy shot on a low budget. Key to the film, Scorsese explains, was the collaboration with Director of Photography Michael Ballhaus, who would later shoot GoodFellas. In 1985, he married for the fourth time, this time with Barbara De Fina, who would produce a number of his movies, including Casino.

The re-established Scorsese followed up After Hours with The Color of Money (1986), a pool hall movie starring Paul Newman and Tom Cruise, and a sequel to The Hustler (1961). The movie did well, so now Scorsese could finally make his beloved project The Last Temptation of Christ (1988). He made the film to “get to know Christ better”, he explains.

The budget was tight, so he could only do two takes of every shot during the difficult shoot in Morocco. It was very tough, he says. Even tougher was the reception of the film: people were very upset. It was banned in Rome, Israel, and India – and someone set off a bomb during a screening in Paris. Blockbuster didn’t carry the film. Marty needed FBI protection for the second time (he had gotten threats after Taxi Driver and had needed protection then as well).

While working on The Color of Money, Scorsese read Wiseguy by Nicholas Pileggi, the true story of mobster Henry Hill and his life within the Lucchese crime family. Pileggi and Scorsese had both grown up in the same neighborhood and collaborated on the screenplay for GoodFellas. Scorsese had the film fully mapped out in his head – frame by frame, song by song. The result is pure montage, weightless and electric. Scorsese created a new cinematic language for this movie. “It has this crazy energy”, says Spielberg. “Like a runaway train.”

Previews strangely enough saw a lot of walk-outs. Executives wanted him to cut out the last twenty minutes, which is the whole cocaine sequence. Marty stood up to them and saved the movie. God bless him.

After GoodFellas, Scorsese worked with De Niro again in Cape Fear (1991), a successful remake of the 1962 thriller – and in 1995 they made another mob masterpiece with Casino. It’s about mob guys who were given paradise with Las Vegas – but they got kicked out of paradise because they are so evil. The movie has a unique structure like GoodFellas, but it takes it one step further.

In between, he explored another closed society with The Age of Innocence (1993), his first collaboration with Daniel Day-Lewis. It’s about a man imprisoned by the culture he belongs to, and a great love doomed to remain unconsummated.

In 1997, he returned to another genre he loved to do: the spiritual film. Kundun (1997) is about the Dalai Lama in Tibet. There were no actors in that country, so he had to get all these performances out of non-actors. The film was panned-down as dull. Then came Bringing Out the Dead, a loose follow-up to Taxi Driver, but it was still born at the box office.

Scorsese was dead again, but then who came knocking? Leonardo DiCaprio was now Hollywood’s new golden boy, a guaranteed name for box office success – and a movie star with resources to invest in the projects he chose to star in. Now, Scorsese finally got the opportunity to make his long awaited dream: Gangs of New York (2002).

The film reconstructs 1860s New York in massive sets built in Rome. This was the Five Points neighbourhood, which was dominated by gangs. Scorsese calls it science fiction in reverse. George Lucas came to visit the sets and said that “this is the last time sets like this will ever be built”.

The film has an uncanny reverence to today’s political violence, with the natives who can be seen as the proud boys of that time. People who claim to be the only true Americans and are prepared to use savage violence on immigrants.

Fortunately, the very expensive film – that was produced by Harvey Weinstein – did well at the box office.

He continued to work with DiCaprio, first on The Aviator (2004), a biopic about Howard Hughes, a man obsessed with filmmaking and aviation. The film received 11 Oscar nominations, and then it dawned on the film community that Scorsese never won an Oscar. But, even though The Aviator won in nearly every category, it lost the director award to Clint Eastwood for Million Dollar Baby.

But two years later, they made it up by giving him the Oscar for The Departed (2006), another gangster film. It was awarded to him by his old friends George Lucas, Steven Spielberg and Francis Ford Coppola – a bittersweet moment. In 2010, he made another film with DiCaprio, Shutter Island. And to complete the streak with Leo, he made The Wolf of Wall Street (2013), a commentary on how excessive and moralless capitalism has overtaken our society.

Marty once again portrays the dark side of human nature in all its forms, including terrible domestic violence. Scorsese has often been accused of glorifying bad behavior, but another way to see his work is that he refuses to sanitize human nature. The Wolf of Wall Street was a massive success, tapping directly into post-financial-crisis anger.

The documentary concludes with The Irishman (2019) and early footage from Killers of the Flower Moon (2023). We also see Scorsese at home, caring for his fifth and final wife, Helen Schermerhorn Morris, who suffers from Parkinson’s disease. It’s deeply moving to see the great filmmaker in this intimate setting.

Steven Spielberg provides the perfect closing tribute for this must-see documentary about the legendary director: “There is only one Marty Scorsese. He is a cornerstone of this art form. There is nobody like him and there will never be anybody like him again.”

Indeed.