“Funny how?”: Why humour makes Joe Pesci so terrifying
Many actors share the belief that comedy is harder to master than drama, and while Joe Pesci is equally great at both, he’s at his very best when he mixes the two to incendiary effect.
Of course, the barometer will always be the most famous scene of his career, when Pesci’s Tommy DeVito terrifies Ray Liotta’s Henry Hill in Goodfellas after being informed that he’s funny. Funny how, exactly? Well, the star absolutely lets rip in a tightly-balled and expertly-performed sequence that underlined how he’s at his most frightening when there’s a rich vein of humour to be mined.
It’s one of the most famous exchanges in modern cinema, with Pesci being rewarded with an Academy Award for ‘Best Supporting Actor’ into the bargain. That’s not the only instance of his delicate balance between hilarity and abject terror, though, even if it remains his most celebrated by far.
He’d already worked magic with Scorsese and Robert De Niro in Raging Bull, where he played Joey LaMotta, the younger brother of the leading man’s Jake. Whereas De Niro was tortured, conflicted, and wrestling with his inner demons, the more acerbic qualities Pesci brought to the table made them the perfect verbal and performative sparring partners.
There’s a tension to their scenes together so thick it couldn’t even be cut by a knife, but there’s also an undercurrent of dark humour to be found. That mostly comes from Pesci as he immaculately – but barely – tries to keep a lid on Joey’s bubbling frustrations, particularly when he’s goaded into punching his older sibling square in the face.
His anxiety-riddled turn as David Ferrie in Oliver Stone’s JFK and the hot-headed Nicky Santoro in Casino were portrayed with visceral agitation that they generated plenty of laughs, even though neither project was a drama by any stretch of the imagination, and nor was Pesci mugging for the cheap seats. It came so natural to him that the seesawing between leaving the audience in stitches and having them fear for their lives ultimately defined so many of his roles.
He went for pure comedy as Leo Getz in the second, third, and fourth entries in the Lethal Weapon franchise, but as the series wore on it became increasingly clear that there was too much of a good thing. It’s a purely comedic part, and one that worked significantly better in small doses, hinting that Pesci going bigger and broader without much to aim for dramatically wasn’t the best way to maximise his gifts.
Even The Irishman‘s Russell Bufalino manages to hit the mark, with Pesci playing it straight once again and projecting a suitably imposing aura, but the scenes where he’s becoming increasingly flustered with Kathrine Narducci’s wife Carrie are some of the crime epic’s funniest moments, but there’s also a lingering sense of dread that he’s ready to lose his shit at any given moment.
Leaning into that baggage worked wonders for Home Alone, too, which was basically ‘what if Tommy DeVito was the scene-stealing supporting act in a family-friendly comedy instead?’. The man himself summed up his approach to balancing humour with terror better than anybody ever could, and it’s every bit as unnerving as his greatest characters.
“What I do is think of somebody that I know very well who is the same type, and play him,” he said. “I do my Tommy. I do Joe Pesci as if I were this killer, this crazy, funny, wisecracking person”. Needless to say, he’s turned it into an artform, and there’s arguably nobody better in the business at being every bit as uproarious as they are intimidating.