For two days after I sawMartin Scorsese's new film, "GoodFellas," the mood of the characters lingered within me, refusing to leave. It was a mood of guilt and regret, of quick stupid decisions leading to wasted lifetimes, of loyalty turned into betrayal. Yet at the same time there was an element of furtive nostalgia, for bad times that shouldn't be missed, but were.

충성에서 배신으로, 근데 마피아 시절을 은근히 그리워하는 아이러니한 무드.

mob wives never went anywhere or talked to anyone who was not part of that world, and eventually, she says, the values of the Mafia came to seem like normal values. She was even proud of her husband for not lying around the house all day, for having the energy and daring to go out and steal for a living.

마피아 와이프들 세상에 빠져 사니, 그 세계의 논리가 체화됨. 도둑질하느라 바쁜 게 자랑스러움

That was the life he wanted to lead, the narrator tells us. The memory may come from Hill and may be in Pileggi's book, but the memory also is Scorsese's, and in the 23 years I have known him, we have never had a conversation that did not touch at some point on that central image in his vision of himself - of the kid in the window, watching the neighborhood gangsters.

다름 아닌 스콜세지 자신의 반영. 어린 시절 창 밖으로 갱들을 바라 보던.

It isn't about any particular plot; it's about what it felt like to be in the Mafia - the good times and the bad times. 

특별한 플롯이 없다. 그저 좋은 시절과 나쁜 시절만.

We follow them through 30 years; at first, through years of unchallenged power, then through years of decline (but they have their own kitchen in prison, and boxes of thick steaks and crates of wine), and then into betrayal and decay.

처음엔 호시절, 그리고 쇠락, 그 담엔 배신과 부패.

From the first shot of his first feature, "Who's That knocking at My Door" (1967), Scorsese has loved to use popular music as a counterpoint to the dramatic moments in his films.

항상 유명한 음악을 영화의 드라마적 순간과 대위법적으로 사용하는 스콜세지.

This is the sequence that imprinted me so deeply with the mood of the film. It's not a straightforward narrative passage, and it has little to do with plot; it's about the feeling of walls closing in, and the guilty feeling that the walls are deserved. The counterpoint is a sense of duty, of compulsion; the drug deal must be made, but the kid brother also must be picked up, and the sauce must be stirred, and meanwhile, Henry's life is careening wildly out of control.

마지막 쫓기는 듯한 시퀀스가 이 영화에서 가장 인장이 되는 무드를 남긴 시퀀스. 죄의식과 의무감의 공존.

Many of Scorsese's best films have been poems about guilt.
"GoodFellas" is about guilt more than anything else. But it is not a straightforward morality play, in which good is established and guilt is the appropriate reaction toward evil. No, the hero of this film feels guilty for not upholding the Mafia code - guilty of the sin of betrayal. And his punishment is banishment, into the witness protection program, where nobody has a name and the headwaiter certainly doesn't know it.

결국 죄의식에 관한 거. 근데 범죄에 대한 게 아니라 동료를 배신한 것에 대한.

What finally got to me after seeing this film - what makes it a great film - is that I understood Henry Hill's feelings. Just as his wife Karen grew so completely absorbed by the Mafia inner life that its values became her own, so did the film weave a seductive spell. It is almost possible to think, sometimes, of the characters as really being good fellows. Their camaraderie is so strong, their loyalty so unquestioned. But the laughter is strained and forced at times, and sometimes it's an effort to enjoy the party, and eventually, the whole mythology comes crashing down, and then the guilt - the real guilt, the guilt a Catholic like Scorsese understands intimately - is not that they did sinful things, but that they want to do them again.

이 영화가 위대한 이유는 마피아의 삶에 폭 빠져서 헨리 힐의 감정을 충분히 공감할 수 있게 하는 영화의 매혹 때문이다.
그리고 스콜세지의 진정한 죄의식은 범죄를 저지른 것에 대한 게 아니라, 그 시절을 그리워한다는 것에 대한 것이다.
Posted by 木石
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