Category Archives: That One Scene

That One Shot: Goodfellas

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For me, the tracking shot has always been my favorite camera movement. In our current film culture, which values incessant quick cuts, there is something to be said about being able to keep the camera running for an extended period of time. It is a testament to this that tracking shots are usually the ones people remember, and the one type of shot people are always making lists about.

Ask anyone devoted to film what their favorite tracking shot of all time is, and you will get any number of answers. Some might point to the opening of “Touch of Evil” which shows us the planting and eventual explosion of a bomb in one breathless take. Others might point to the car chase sequence of “Children of Men,” which is so powerful because the camera never cuts away from the violence, and therefore the viewer never knows what’s going to happen next. However, I believe the best of them all is the famed Copacabana shot from “Goodfellas.”
This single shot is equal parts thrilling and entertaining to watch. For those of you who haven’t seen “Goodfellas” yet (and if you haven’t turn off your computer and go watch it right now), it is the true story of Henry Hill (Ray Liotta), an Irish-Italian hoodlum who finds great success as a small time mobster in the 50s and 60s, but then loses it all after a string of misjudgments and bad decisions. The movie is split up into two acts: the first act is a glorification of a life of crime and taking the easy way out, and the second half is a condemnation of this exact lifestyle.
This shot takes place during the movie’s first act, in which Henry takes Karen (Lorraine Bracco) on their first date together at the Copacabana. It goes on for around three minutes, an impressive amount of time to go on without a single cut. The lingering camera gives off the vibe that an invisible third party is following Henry around and documenting his life. This third party may know the strife that lies ahead but for know, focuses on the glamour.
The shot starts off on the street, where Henry refuses to leave his car in a garage, because he so loathes the idea of having to wait for it. As the camera continues to follow Henry and Karen across the street, they cut through the long line waiting to get in and go approach an underground entrance. Once the doors swing open and they enter, Karen has officially entered the criminal underworld. And this is a hard place to ever come back from. If this scene represents a descent into hell, a selling of the soul, then Henry and Karen are like the honorary king and queen.
This scene represents what will be the apex of Henry’s mob career. At the Copacabana, he doesn’t have to wait for a table: the Copacabana brings the table to him. Once the tracking shot ends and Henry and Karen have entered the restaurant, the camera doesn’t stop there. Perhaps Scorsese felt that cutting this shot would have ruined this scene, which feels like a big encapsulation of a major moment. Most people’s greatest moment of success might be when they make a fortune or get to run their organization. For Henry, that greatest moment is when he gets to avoid waiting in line. It’s all part of Henry’s plan to be as far from an ordinary schmuck as possible.
What fascinates me most about this is not just what happens onscreen, but what must have happened behind the scenes as well. It is hard to even imagine how difficult this must have been for Scorsese, cinematographer Michael Ballhaus, and all of the actors and extras in the scene to shoot and coordinate. It feels like every last action had to be so carefully plotted out and that one false move could have ruined everything. Every movement of every chef and every waiter must have been coordinated to a T. However, there are still some tiny moments that make me believe that it went off the script a few times. When Henry bumps into a plate, his reaction seems too genuine to have ever been planned.
In that lies the beauty of “Goodfellas,” the reason that I (and most other viewers) watch the movie again and again: it is so obsessively crafted, yet so loose and free. We are not meant to simply watch the lives of these gangsters and their families, but become a part of it. It invites us into their lives in a way that even “The Godfather” couldn’t do. The viewer is probably smart enough to know the dangers of entering the mob. However, for this one moment, getting into the Copacabana with a front row seat of the show seems pretty damn well worth the risk.
Watch the scene, with some interesting commentary from cast and crew here.

That One Scene: Inglourious Basterds

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“That One Scene” is a recurring series on The Reel Deal where I examine that one scene in a certain movie that sets it apart from all others.
First off, we have a major dilemma. When I first created “That One Scene” back in August, I promised to write about one remarkable movie scene every week. Obviously, this didn’t happen.
However, now that I am a second semester senior and certain responsibilities don’t exist for me anymore, I believe now is the perfect time to bring this post back. And now, I’m going to bring it back by discussing a movie I’ve talked about way too much recently: “Inglourious Basterds.” My incessant chatter though is for good reason, as this was a film made to be broken down piece by piece to be fully admired. Also, I hope this serves to show you why this film truly deserves to take home Best Screenplay this year.
There are a multitude of great scenes to break down in this film. I could’ve discussed the stretched out, tension-filled opening scene. I could’ve discussed the audaciously long tavern scene. I also could’ve had some fun and discussed the Bear Jew beating a Nazi with a bat. However, I’ve opted for one of the more subtlety beautiful and less appreciated scenes in the film. It’s a tour-de-force of fine writing, acting, and directing.
The scene occurs after our hero Shosanna (Melanie Laurent), a Jew hiding as a French movie theater owner in Nazi-Occupied Paris, manages to sit through an entire meal with Joseph Goebbels. Hans Landa (Christoph Waltz), the SS Officer responsible for the slaughter of Shosanna’s entire family walks into the room. Quentin Tarantino doesn’t skip a beat going into this scene. The banging drums seem out of place in a WWII epic, but it serves well in sending chills down the viewer’s spine.
As Landa greets her, Shosanna’s skin turns white as a skeleton. Laurent shows her as someone vulnerable enough to crack at any moment. Tarantino spends an awful long time focusing on Shosanna’s facial expressions, basically making the conversations occurring right above her shoulder seem insignificant. Laurent’s acting shows more fear, vulnerability, and ultimate strength in just a few smacks of her lips than any amount of words ever could. For a director so enamored by conversation, this seems like an interesting, and even welcome, change.
This entire scene contains an incredible amount of ambiguity around it. From the beginning, we are nervous of whether or not Landa will recognize Shosanna. By the end, it’s still impossible to tell if he did or not. For someone known as “The Jew Hunter,” Landa maintains a jovial demeanor throughout the scene.
Landa says the purpose of their meeting is to discuss security matters. At times, it seems less for information and more as a means of torture. He even orders Shosanna a glass of milk, the very thing he drank the last time they were acquainted.
Meanwhile, there is a great focus on the strudels. It seems unnecessary, but Tarantino seems to have a great love of shaping human interaction around the things we eat. That lovingly shot close up of Shosanna ripping off a piece of strudel, then piling a little cream onto it, reminds me of watching Samuel L. Jackson devour a Big Kahuna Burger in “Pulp Fiction.” Tarantino seems to think a lot can be said about a person by how they eat their food. In this instance, Shosanna is someone who is careful, and will never miss a detail. Landa, meanwhile, shoves the pastry in his face. This is consistent with much of the humor arising from this character; he seems to be funniest in how outlandish he is in just about everything he does.
It’s strange also to see the weird chemistry between Landa and Shosanna. While one is a Nazi and the other is a secret Jew, they seem quite good in listening to each other and responding to each other’s comments. At times, they chat almost as if they are old friends.
Of course, while parts of this scene may seem very light-hearted, one can forget its extremely serious undertones. After all, this is a film about the topic of genocide. The most serious moment comes as Landa states, “I did have something else I wanted to ask you.” His smile so quickly turns into a frown, showing how his character can go so quickly from kind to cruel. Shosanna of course, tries to stand her ground. Tarantino takes no hesitation in lingering on this long, frightful silence.
Suddenly, Landa’s deathly stare turns into an all-out smile. He states, “But right now, for the life of me, I can’t remember what it is. Oh well, must not have been important.” This reveals something very important about Landa. Throughout the film, he seems to constantly be on the line between very serious man, and cartoonishly over-the-top. He is a villain so frightening in his insane self-centered principles. Yet, here, he is as clueless as the conventional Hollywood villain who’s too underwritten to stop his foe.
In this case, it’s not poor writing, but some form of satire. That, and it reveals Landa as the most complex Nazi we may ever see on film.
If we look at it from the possibility that he did know it was her, why wouldn’t Landa try and stop her? Well, maybe he didn’t want to because he enjoys torturing her with mystery better. Also, Landa is always fixated on the idea of survival. He seems to hold great respect for those who will do anything to survive. This is why many believe he let Shosanna run away at the beginning. Now, he sees that she is not only surviving, but thriving (like the rats he discusses earlier in the film). He may be simply amazed at how she overcame so much to come this far, and that she deserves to remain in secret.
After Landa leaves, we get to see why Laurent deserved an Oscar nomination this year. After Landa leaves, her feigned smile quickly turns into a frown. When she sees she is completely alone, she lets out a giant gasp and begins crying. It seems almost as if she’s been under the identity of Emmanuelle for so long that she forgot how to feel like Shosanna. It’s strange how she turns around to see if it’s okay to cry; as this makes it seem like her reaction is almost mechanical. However, Laurent manages to make it the most emotionally realistic moment in the entire film. It could also be that she, like the audience, can’t believe she’s made it this far. In this way, Laurent turns Shosanna perhaps into the film’s most relatable character.
Overall, this scene seems to be an embodiment of what “Inglourious Basterds” is truly about: a celebration of the finer things in culture. This ranges from good cinema to good Scotch, good cigarettes, and of course, a fine dessert. Here is a scene that represents why Tarantino is the auteur of our generation: he has an incredible understanding of humanity, timing, and detail.

That One Scene: (500) Days of Summer

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“That One Scene” is a new (and hopefully recurring) series on The Reel Deal where I examine that one scene in a certain movie that sets it apart from all others.

I hate having to answer the question “what do you think is the most important part of a movie” because it is simply impossible to answer. Every part of a film contributes to how good the final product is. Without good actors, the character’s don’t seem real; without good writing, the situations don’t seem real, and without a good director the whole project falls apart.
However, there is always one part of a film that always stands out to me. One thing that in my eyes that can make or break a film: dialogue. Whether or not the characters have believable banter is what contributes to an entire film feeling realistic or not. That is the particular reason why Judd Apatow and Quentin Tarantino are the best scribes currently working in Hollywood.
I would like to bring up a very recent example of great dialogue. It is a very short scene from “(500) Days of Summer.” This snippet of dialogue might not seem like much when read aloud, but when put in the context of the film, it is incredible:
Summer: Is that true?
Tom: Yeah, yeah. He drinks and he sings…
Summer: No, no not Mackenzie. The other thing.
Tom: What thing?
Summer: Do you…like me?
Tom: (Pause) Yeah, yeah of course I like you.
Summer:…As friends?
Tom: Right. As friends.
Summer: Just as friends?
Nothing remarkable sounding here. But yet, there is. Even when not hearing this in the context of the film, there is something beautiful about this dialogue’s simplicity. In it’s simplicity, it feels so real. In it, Summer isn’t really asking for an answer she doesn’t know, she is just asking for confirmation for something she believes has to be true.
But that’s not the point. When you see this scene in the movie, you will realize everything about it is perfect. The surroundings of the scene seem totally irrelevant; everything is focused on Tom and Summer because it is all about them. This is their moment; their first moment where they see that something other than friendship may be possible in the near future.
Gordon-Levitt and Deschanel deliver the dialogue flawlessly. Every emotion they convey is perfectly entwined with every word they speak. They add a level of friendly awkwardness that no script can convey on it’s own. It is the true essence of onscreen chemistry: two people (typically a man and a woman) being able to communicate with each other at a realistic level, whether for positive or negative reasons.
I recall a line from Roger Ebert’s “Pulp Fiction” review in which he says “this movie would work as an audio book.” What he’s saying that when dialogue is good, sometimes listening can defeat watching.
Good dialogue is like good music, you can listen to it over and over again. That is the case for this scene of “(500) Days of Summer.” It is no complex, witty conversation about hamburgers or foot massages but simply an intimate moment between two strange souls. It is not just the words you want to listen to over and over again, but the delivery.
If “(500) Days of Summer” gets nominated for Best Original Screenplay at the Oscars this year (which I 100% guarantee you, it will), this will be the clip shown when its title is announced.
The next installment of “That One Scene” will discuss the “Ride of the Valkyries” scene in “Apocalypse Now.”