Henry Hill RIP.

Heh. He may have been the epitome of everything I despise: a Thrasymachean nutter who thought the Good Life meant lots of money and stealing it was fine. He didn’t even repent once he entered the Witness Protection Program, continuing to insist he loved the life and missed it so.

And yet. He gave us GoodFellas. He offered the spark for Pileggi and, in turn, Scorsese. If God exists and he’s as much an aesthetics as an ethics fan, that’s probably the one fact his barrister won’t have to spin.

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