Despite its controversial topic, length and the initial flop at the box-office, the movie Once Upon a Time in America has turned throughout the decades since its release in 1984 into a cult-product, highlighting the tensions as well as the promises of the New World as a symbol of dynamic constellations of power, love, greed, sexuality, violence, crisscrossing diverse intersectional discourse on identity, public representation and emerging voices in mainstream media. While critically observing 1984’s Once Upon a Time in America from 1984 with its major themes of masculinity, friendship and betrayal, this essay delves into its status of a cult media phenomenon encompassing the realities of early 20th century America and its manifestations of the “American dream”.
Ambivalences and Contradictions
When released in 1984, the epic crime movie co-written and directed by the Italian filmmaker Sergio Leone (1929-1989) with music by his long-time collaborator Ennio Morricone (1928-2020) and starring Robert de Niro and James Woods in ones of their most iconic roles, Once Upon a Time in America (in Italian: C’Era Una Volta in America) was the last iteration in the director’s Once Upon a Time Trilogy, which included Once Upon a Time in the West (1968) and Duck, You Sucker! (1971). Based on Harry Grey’s (autobiographical) novel The Hoods (1952), it stars Robert de Niro, Elizabeth McGovern and James Woods and chronicles the lives of best friends David “Noodles” Aaronson and Maximilian “Max” Bercovicz as they lead a group of Jewish ghetto youths who rise to prominence as Jewish gangsters in New York City’s world of organized crime in the first decades of the 20th century. (Harry Grey’s real name was Herschel Goldberg. He lived from 1901 until 1980 and is known as a former-gangster-turned-informant.) The movie explores themes of childhood friendships, love, lust, greed, betrayal, loss, broken relationships, together with the rise of mobsters in American society. The original “European cut” of 229 minutes has remained a critical favorite and frequently appears on lists of the greatest movies of all times, particularly in the gangster genre. Once Upon a Time in America premiered at the 1984 Cannes Film Festival on 20. May 1984, and received a raucous, record-breaking ovation of nearly 20 minutes after the screening (reportedly heard by diners at restaurants across the street from the Palais), at a time in Cannes’ history before marathon applause became a regular occurrence. In the United States, however, a heavily edited version of the film received a wide release in 894 theaters on 1. June 1984, and grossed US$2.4 million during its opening weekend; it ended its box-office run with a gross of just over US$5.3 million on a US$30 million budget, therefore turning into a spectacular box-office flop.
Sergio Leone’s Once Upon a Time in America has been collecting throughout the decades various critical responses, from enthusiastic ones praising his depiction of early 20th’s century America with its omnipresent violence, blatant social inequalities, relentless pursuit of wealth at all costs until straightforwardly furious ones, which criticized the two rape scenes and the graphic scenes of violence and cruelty as well as the openly offensive sexism and misogyny. Equally acclaimed as an “an epic poem of violence and greed” (Ebert, R. 1984. Once Upon a Time in America, a Review, at https://www.rogerebert.com/reviews/once-upon-a-time-in-america-1984; retrieved 5. January 2025) and the best movie depicting the Prohibition era as well as one of the finest releases during the 1980s, the movie version of Once Upon a Time in America abounds in memorable scenes, individual lines and dialogues. The music composed by Ennio Morricone stands out both due to its original parts, among which “Deborah’s Theme”, initially written for another movie in the 1970s and rejected, haunts audiences well after the end of the movie itself, and the incorporation of Gheorghe Zamfir’s pan flute theme, and due to its suggestive inclusion of source music (or diegetic music, referring to those musical elements in a drama, e.g., movie, opera, musical or video game, which is part of the fictional setting and so is knowingly performed and heard by the characters) delivering credible historical embedding in addition to a more deeply nuanced outlining of the characters.
Narrative Lines
The narrative line of the movie jumps between 1933, 1918 and 1968, seen from the perspective of the main character Noodles, either as his memories or as his apparently real-life experiences in 1968: however, particularly equivocal are the beginning and the ending scenes of the movie placed in 1933, with Noodles hiding in an opium den from syndicate hitmen, with the last shot of the movie being of Noodles in a smiling, opium-soaked high, suggesting that the scenes set in the 1960s could be seen as an drug-induced dream of Noodles’, who remembers his past and envisions the future (an interpretation supported by Leone’s suggestions in interviews). Furthermore, the ending in which Max appears as Noodles is leaving Bailey’s mansion and then suddenly disappears behind a truck only for Noodles to see the blades of the truck spinning, was reportedly left ambiguous on purpose: James Woods himself, who played Max, stated that he does not know if Max jumped in the truck or just disappeared. It is a paradoxical ending, as the entire movie rotates, essentially, around Noodles spending the second half of his life seeking out the truth of what had taken place, only to discover it, not accept it, and not investigate what really happens to Max: the probable interpretation that he desperately wants to believe the reality he has created for himself, not an objective one, indicates additionally that the 1960s scenes is a product of Noodles’ imagination.
Once Upon a Time in America is a complex movie, directed by a visionary Sergio Leone as his magnum opus and the last work of his life. As is often the case with such multi-layered releases which escape simple interpretations and for the sake of the current analysis, three dimensions in Once Upon a Time in America seem specifically relevant and therefore drawn into the spotlight: firstly, the violence and aggressiveness enveloping the concept of freedom, including sexual violence and misogyny; secondly, the intersectionality of individual identity encompassing race, ethnicity, religion, class, sexuality, finances, which circumscribes equality; thirdly, friendship as brotherhood and its relation to the American dream: the climactic, cathartic resolution and transcendence of modernity announcing its very dissolution.
Freedom, Masculinity and Violence
To start with the violence and aggressiveness displayed in Once Upon a Time in America, these are most strikingly depicted in the two rape scenes, which were, and still are, specifically controversial in the movie’s reception: “blatant, gratuitous violence” displayed for the sake of itself and not obeying the general logic of the dramaturgic construction. Nonetheless, it has been equally argued that Leone’s representation of rape “articulates the dysfunction between bodies in images and bodies themselves” without glamourizing “violent sex”, expressing the fact that the movie’s central gang members are all emotionally stunted, “like small boys obsessed with their equipment who have no idea how to relate to flesh-and-blood women” (McCarty, J. 2005. Bullets over Hollywood: The American Gangster Picture from the Silents to “The Sopranos”. Boston, Massachusetts: Da Capo Press, pp. 68) The question arises, nonetheless, to which degree violence in all its forms of manifestation and aggressiveness are related to freedom as the fundamental element in humans’ quest for fulfilment and the crux of modernity.
In Once Upon a Time in America, violence is a way to survive as the strongest, firstly in a specific area and secondly due to history’s advancement. Later on, violence is a means to get ahead of others so that one can enjoy the best things life has to offer. Closely related to violence is in Once Upon a Time in America competitiveness, namely ruthless competitiveness: it is not enough to be very good, one has to be the best. Being the best leads to one’s freedom of choices regardless of who is set to lose: women are, by definition, in this constellation, purely objects of exchange and means of negotiation, and there is nothing to elevate their status. In 1968’ encounter between Deborah and Noodles in Deborah’s changing room, there is no overt trace of the former emotional bond, but the tension between “what could have been” and “what has turned out to be” is almost physically palpable in the conversation – which, like all great conversations in world literature between former (or potential) lovers, reverberates through all the things left unsaid rather than the ones expressed. In Noodles’ world, there is no space for regret and what-ifs; life has been what it has been, and at least he was given the chance to live. Whether this was a good or a bad thing, is not known, as the open – paradoxical – finale rejects any equivocal answers. Eventually, Once Upon a Time in America’s violence is, in fact, gratuitous: while it honestly, accurately, allows for insights into early 20th century’s America, it does not contribute to the main character’s formation and development, who remains a prisoner of his past, unable to truly move forward.
Equality and Individual Identity
Then there is the confusing, but liberating intersectionality of individual identity encompassing race, ethnicity, religion, class, sexuality, finances: this vision of individual identity and what a human being can do with his/her years of life, circumscribes equality as the second half of the modernity’s equation. Noodles and his friends have no chance of a normal life in dignity: as Jewish immigrants and children, they are victims of the ruthless social environment. Very early on in their lives, they are keenly aware of this situation and have no illusions as to their prospects in the future. Naturally gifted with an exceptional intelligence, they set up on a journey of tricking the system around them, itself deeply corrupt, so that they can move upwards in a world which equals money with power. In this concern, it is interesting to observe in parallel Noodles and Max: while Noodles pursues both rape scenes, which turns him into the weaker antagonist, it is Max who, supposedly, has betrayed his best friends and stolen the money from the locker but created the circumstances for Noodles to escape, and eventually gets romantically involved with Deborah, Noodles eternal love interest, whom Noodles had forever lost due to the rape gesture.
Both Noodles and Max are equally stunted, but in different ways: Noodles seem unable to control himself in key-moments, be they romantic or professionally motivated like the diamond heist, and fails to see the meaninglessness of (immediate) revenge, visible in his killing of Bugsy and his attack on the police officer after Dominic’s death in his arms. This would indicate deeper layers of kindness and human warmth, hidden beneath cruel life experiences, which nevertheless remain unmanifested throughout the entire movie. On the other hand, Max is calculated and cold, thinks of himself above anything else and, one might argue, does not care about friendship and such related values as loyalty, compassion, honesty, in the advent of the betrayal. I argue that regardless of whether the opium den scenes at the beginning and at the end of the movie refer to the reality or are simply drug-induced illusions, they reflect at the very least deep-seated knowledge in Noodles’ subconscious about the truth of what had happened and what would turn out to be possible due to Max’ relentless pursuit of his own ambitions regardless of their costs. Despite coming from the same origins, their lives had very different outcomes: this seems to be Noodles’ vision, of the past as well as of the future. Meticulously, Once Upon a Time in America delivers consistently bitter lessons in the consequences of choices never made – or poorly made – and in existential trajectories resulting from those (non-)choices.
Brotherhood versus Friendship
Related to the concept of freedom as violence and competitiveness as well as equality as the ability to transcend one’s origins, the third dimension of friendship as symbolical brotherhood which overcomes blood relations stands out: both the pursuit of freedom as the most basic human right and need has been repeatedly connected to violence and competitiveness of individual – particularly masculine – identity and therefore employed almost in apologetical manner in explaining and interpreting history to survivors, and the principle of equality – of chances, of choices, of outcomes – has been continuously utilized to turn young inexperienced characters into archetypes of individuation and historical progress, thus, again, excusing the pains and suffering inflicted upon those who had happened to be in their way towards reaching their potential and transcending the limitations of their origins. In addition, these two concepts and their affiliated characteristics have been connected to the “American dream” as the climax and catharsis of modernity: it is one of those delicately genial ironies in Once Upon a Time in America that it portrays the very dissolution of the phenomenon it actually pretends to reveal. The “American dream” is not something humans can pursue, but something which pursues, chases, hunts down those who dare to believe in its feasibility. It destroys those involved in its manifestation by corrupting the very fabric of their humanity, by pushing to their demise in the name of an illusion.
This is, I would argue, the key to understanding both the incipient and the final opium den scenes and Noodles’ visions: like the drug-induced dreams, the “American dream” itself is a drug-induced delusion, destructive and self-destructive, which does not allow for winners or even survivors. Money and the illusion of power – over one’s own destiny, over others, over history as in Max’ political transformation – it mediates are just that: illusions feeding each other in an endless self-reinforcing spiral of self-doubt, self-betrayal, self-denial. In such an interpretation, it turns out to be irrelevant whether Noodles’ visions are real memories of the past, immediate or distant, or imagined events of a reality decades away: what matters is the very fact that betrayal of one’s best friends was imaginable followed by a prosperous life. I would argue that Noodles’ purgatory ends with the ambiguous scene of the garbage truck at the closing of the movie: whether Max dies or not is equally irrelevant. What truly matters is the resolution to leave everything behind and to move on. Knowledge of the truth is less vital as the ability to leave the past behind and to find a way to keep on living – free from the doubts, crimes and perils of the past.
Towards a Masculinity of Authentic Vulnerability
In this interpretation, the two opium den scenes are the central perspectives which open and close Noodles’ evolution: firstly, there is his past as an innocent child who had no other choice but to live life as it came and to learn on-the-go the strategies of survival in an unequal society desperately pursuing the “American dream” and its promise of freedom; secondly, there is his future when he understands – is forced to understand – that his past with its friends has forever been erased by cruel acts of betrayal motivated by greed and selfishness. The real transition into maturity for the middle-aged man comes at the price of the loss of innocence preserved in the memories of his childhood and teenage years: it is not cynicism which accompanies this transition, but a deep sense of liberation and empowerment – as well as gratitude towards being alive. While not explicitly explained in the movie with all its violence, murders, promiscuity, Once Upon a Time in America delivers indirectly o vision of life which moves beneath the mundane preoccupation with survival and shows that, ultimately, accepting the unacceptable and moving on without looking back can become a life strategy.
In Noodles’ iconic character (admirably embodied by Robert de Niro in one of his most sensitively acute if not celebrated roles), the question of whether the production and promotion of masculine identity can be achieved by the instrumentalization of money, sexuality and power as key-elements of freedom can be addressed and answered, arises – then again, the phenomenon of masculine vulnerability as the ability to connect with one’s emotions and therefore to those around oneself in an authentic manner is both observed and performatively dissected, keenly reconstructing Noodles’ inner structure, in the pursuit of developing and pro-actively employing these values as a means to transcend the impeding “death of vulnerability” in human individuals of the overly secularized modernity. More than four decades after its release, Once Upon a Time in America continues to deliver insights into the dynamics of what has come to be labeled as “toxic masculinity” as well as potential ways of liberating oneself from its uncanny delusions – humility and honesty being two of the major strategies towards a life of authentic freedom.
