It’s somewhat fitting to be writing about mob movies only a few short miles from where Al Capone’s South Side Chicago gang once ran a bootlegging empire through brute force and backroom politics. And it’s downright surreal and disturbing to be only a short stroll from where the infamous Valentine’s Day Massacre occurred in 1929 — allegedly Capone’s bloody blueprint for settling gangland scores.
Capone died nearly 70 years ago, but you still can’t mention his name in Chicago without perking ears and sparking imaginations. He’s as iconic in this town as Barack Obama, Ernie Banks, or Mrs. O’Leary’s Cow. An amalgam of historical figure, favorite son, and folk hero — a combination that speaks to something remarkably peculiar about the types of characters (both real and fictional) who capture our imaginations.
The strangest feeling when watching a mob film comes when you pause for a moment, acknowledge that the character you’re rooting for is a murdering sociopath, and immediately shrug off that realization. How do we so cavalierly rationalize the fact that we’re often pulling for a villain — something we’d never do while watching, say, a superhero movie? Wait, both sides are villains in this movie. Yeah, but I’m rooting for the good villains. Partly, we’re living out fantasies through onscreen bosses and button men who follow a code that, while often brutal, seems to get results far more efficiently than the avenues available to the rest of us legit schmucks.
But more so, the mobsters we’re allied with as viewers — from Vito Corleone to Tony Soprano — tend to be incredibly likable. They’re family men, loyal friends, funny guys, and often “respected” members of their communities. It’s these same qualities, then, that make it all the more terrifying when that switch flips and a fella who looks like the type we’d invite to a poolside barbecue at our house starts practicing amateur dentistry on another guy using pliers and a parking meter.
I think that’s the appeal of many mob movies, really. We’re simultaneously captivated and terrified by the violent, heinous acts committed by men who seem like good enough fellas — if you ignore the body in the trunk. Sure, sometimes the shock of a mob hit stems from sheer brutality or pints of blood donated to the surrounding walls. But just as often it’s the sudden jump from a world we understand to an underworld we can barely fathom, our favorite gangster morphing from nice guy to wiseguy in the time it takes to say fuhgettaboutit.
These are the mob hits that shock us several viewings and, in some cases, many decades later. If you have other shocking hits you’d like to rat about, feel free to spill them in the comments section. And if you don’t agree with us, just remember: It’s not personal. It’s strictly business.
–Matt Melis
Senior Editor
10. Push It To The Limit
Scarface (1983)
Hit Man: Tony Montana
Who Got Whacked? Manny Ribera
Look, Tony Montana (Al Pacino) is a fucking raving lunatic. Point to any scene in all 170 minutes of Brian De Palma’s sprawling gangster masterpiece and you’ll have solid evidence of his madness. Subtlety isn’t his strongest attribute — after all, he screams as much as he violently kills — which is why everyone who has ever met him is absolutely terrified, from his enemies to his family to his friends. His closest pal Manny Ribera (Steven Bauer) probably should have been a little more wary. Yes, they grew up together, survived refugee camps together, and climbed up the ranks together, only that don’t mean jack shit to a guy like Tony. Especially a coked-out Tony. And especially a coked-out Tony who discovers you’ve been shacking up with his sister, Gina (Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio). Blame it on drugs, reckless abandonment, blind rage, or a severe Oedipal complex, but when Tony takes out Manny for simply being a good guy to his sibling, well, he turns into a real jerk. –Michael Roffman
09. A Knife to a Gunfight
The Untouchables (1987)
Hitman: Frank Nitti
Who Got Whacked? Jimmy Malone
Perhaps we were always supposed to know Malone (Sean Connery) would get iced. After all, he’s the lone wolf among his trusty Untouchables on a redemptive streak — a disgraced beat cop with an honest soul and Irish wit. Without him, Elliot Ness (Kevin Costner) would be wandering around the streets of Chicago blind, only hoping to do some good. No, Malone has seen it all, and he knows how to take down Capone by pushing all the forbidden buttons. But those buttons can only be pushed so far, which is why when Malone harasses police chief Mike Dorsett (Richard Bradford), he’s signed his own death slip. He knows this, a harsh realization he accepts long before that rainy alleyway fight with Dorsett. But he’s a born fighter. So, he gets the goods and bites the bullet. Many of them. And it’s one of the most ruthless and agonizing on-screen deaths this writer’s ever shed tears to, one that stings decades and multiple viewings later. ::cue Ennio Morricone’s “Death Theme”:: –Michael Roffman
08. One Hole, Two Brothers
Casino (1995)
Hit Men: Frank Marino and the rest of Nicky Santoro’s former crew
Who Got Whacked? Nicky and Dominick Santoro
It’s not personal. It’s strictly business, my ass. Okay, we get it. Nicky Santoro’s (Joe Pesci) reckless antics had become bad for business. But a good, old-fashioned shot to the back of the head — bada-bing, bada-boom — would have sufficed. But no, the old bosses are vengeful, coldhearted pricks, and the shock here is the ghastly lengths they go to torture and make an example of Nicky. After leveling Nicky with an aluminum bat, Marino, Nicky’s former #2, and crew use his kid brother, Dominick, for batting practice. Not only is Nicky forced to watch his brother bloodied and beaten within an inch of his life, stripped, and rolled into a grave, he’s getting a preview of his own fate. In the end, the siblings are buried alive in that cornfield. Nicky never lives to tell the tales of his glory years in Vegas. Though, oddly enough, he still gets to narrate them. –Matt Melis
