It’d be easy to dismiss them as merely Tom and Jerry with Jersey accents, but actors Frank Vincent and Joe Pesci’s relationship is a testament to loyalty and hard work. Together, the duo staged some of the most memorable mob-movie scenes as they perpetuated the ugliest grudge match in movie history.

On-screen, Pesci usually got the upper hand in these blood-curdling brawls, introducing Vincent’s cranium to a taxi door in Raging Bull, before dispatching him in Goodfellas with the help of a kitchen knife. Vincent got his shots in, planning a one-way trip for Pesci’s character to a shallow grave in a corn field in Casino five years later. Any time you saw these two guys on screen, you knew it was bound to get nasty.

The two worked together in several projects, none more iconic than Martin Scorsese’s 1990 mob saga Goodfellas. Opposite of long-time collaborator Pesci, Vincent immortalized the phrase, “Now go home, and git yer shine box.” Pesci, not to be outdone, had his own career-defining moment in the same film — several, in fact.

The former insult comedian chalked up the scene’s success to its ability to provoke nervous laughter. Where better to train creating awkward silences than in a comedy club insulting the paying customers? Long before shooting daggers as sociopath mob enforcers, Pesci and the late Vincent were already grizzled showbiz veterans.

The Lean Years
Goldstone Film

Graduating from annoying dinner patrons for tips to playing real shows at cocktail lounges, Vincent dreamed of being the next Buddy Rich just as the jazz and big band craze was petering out. Recruited into Vincent’s band, Frank Vincent and the Aristocats, Pesci would eventually make up the favor to his bandleader. Their journeymen musical career saw them playing with some of the most famous big-band crooners, but no matter how much studio time they put in, they never could make it past the club circuit, playing for six hours a night with only a few breaks to catch their breath.

Vincent handled the drums, doing insult comedy on the side, while Pesci handled the guitar duties, occasionally throwing in a zinger for himself. Of all their work, the most noteworthy song might be a funky jazz single called “Little People Blues” that they cut in 1972. Doing a little of this, and a little of that, they changed their style as the trends dictated. Eventually, they segued into an insult comedy duo known as “Vincent and Pesci.” If you’ve seen Goodfellas or Raging Bull, you can probably imagine their typical banter and style of jokes, their knack for iconic one-liners evident in many of their later films.

Related How Goodfellas De-Romanticizes the Mob Life Many critics to this day say Goodfellas does nothing but romanticize mob life. Here’s why it actually has the opposite effect.
Their big chance couldn’t come fast enough. Unfortunately, their debut was in the 1970s crime flick called The Death Collector (alternately marketed as: The Family Enforcer). Initially, the director only wanted Pesci. With a little help from Pesci, who put in a good word for his drummer, Vincent was hired as well. The film didn’t make any waves, but, luckily, there was one fan of Pesci’s performance.

Robert De Niro, Casting Scout
Warner Bros.

Pesci’s name was brought to the attention of Scorsese by Robert De Niro, who saw a rawness in him. Much like The Death Collector, Vincent came with a strong recommendation preceding his audition. Pesci didn’t need to twist anyone’s arm to get his pal a role in Raging Bull. “There was a good rapport between us because we worked together,” he told Bob Costas on Later, looking back on his career.

By the time of Goodfellas, Scorsese, Pesci, and De Niro were already a bit of a team. Casting the role of the ill-fated, loud-mouth Billy Batts was a no-brainer. “When we did Goodfellas we needed someone to play Billy Batts and get killed, and the three of us looked at each other and said, ‘call Frank!’” All those years of trading barbs on stage in front of a dozen drunks at two a.m. were paying dividends. Probably not a coincidence that so many of their cinematic altercations were scripted to occur at shady, mob-run nightclubs.

Warner Bros.

If you’re curious, there’s no truth to the caricatured depictions of Pesci’s onion-thin skin or penchant for violence. That bit of acting was informed more by his nightly observations in sleazy nightclubs. Pesci and Vincent brought their own chemistry, having spent years mastering their timing playing to tough crowds. The duo was intimately knowledgeable about the underworld, Pesci’s unscripted “Do I amuse you?” scene and his overall performance from Goodfellas based on a real-life neighborhood gangster from Newark, New Jersey, by the name of Robert Bisaccia.

As for his stand-out scenes, Vincent deferred the glory and gave the credit to the writers and the director, shrugging off his fame, saying simply: “When lines are great, they’re easy to do.” Working his way up from the bottom to the top, he retained a work ethic of a nightclub act, hitting his mark, keeping it short and simple, always nailing his line to keep the audience from heckling.

Related Joe Pesci and Get Gotti: Exploring the Actor’s Cinematic Connection to the Notorious Mobster Joe Pesci’s penchant for playing tough guys and mobsters put him in the big-screen Gotti-verse on more than one occasion.

Branching Out

It was inevitable that both actors would seek to shake off the gangster stereotype. Though Vincent’s most remembered roles in later years were in mob entertainment like Copland, The Sopranos, and the Grand Theft Auto video game series, he would take on more diverse work such as Shark Tale and Spike Lee’s Jungle Fever and Do the Right Thing.

Pesci’s acting success allowed him to transcend his image, with a minor role in Oliver Stone’s JFK and meatier roles in comedies like Home Alone (1 and 2), three Lethal Weapon installments, and My Cousin Vinny, before largely walking away from the acting profession. Between 1998 and 2014, he took only two roles, seemingly burned out from the constant work schedule. This when not getting his head literally lit on fire for that one scene in Home Alone.

20th Century Fox

Just as Pesci was calling it quits, Vincent’s career finally went into high gear. In a 1996 New York Times interview, just a few years before landing a major role on The Sopranos, Vincent meditated on being relegated to bit-actor status. “What else do I do?… I can’t give up on my lifelong dream.” Any reports of him being jealous of Pesci or harboring resentment were completely unfounded. As their careers diverged, the two grew apart like many brothers and friends inevitably do.

According to GQ, Vincent embraced the stardom associated with the mob roles that immortalized him, commenting, “Wherever I go, anytime I go anywhere, they tell me to go home and get my shine box.” A performer from his youth, Vincent understood how the system worked. Every performer learns that no matter how many songs or jokes or routines you may have in your repertoire, fans will only remember one or two. No matter how sick you might be of your signature bit, when fans demand the classics, you gotta give the audience what they want.