A Totally Serious Article about the Deep Religious Symbolism of the Dog Painting in GoodFellas

As far back as I can remember, I’ve always wanted to write an article about the Dog Painting in GoodFellas (1990, dir. Martin Scorcese). One of the greatest films ever made (well, it’s no Goncharov but it’s still pretty good), GoodFellas follows the rise and fall of mob associate, Henry Hill (Ray Liotta), in particular his relationship with fellow mobsters, Jimmy Conway (Robert De Niro) and Tommy DeVito (Joe Pesci).. 

Spoilers will abound from this point onward!

In one scene, following some unpleasantness with a business associate, the trio make an early morning visit to Tommy’s mother, Ma DeVito (in an iconic performance by Martin Scorcese’s own mother, Catherine Scorsese) for some pasta and conversation. At this time, she presents to them a painting of a man and two dogs in a boat. Apart from anything else, it’s just a great painting. How can you not love how one dog goes one way and one dog goes the other way? And the guy in the back is saying “Whadda you want from me??!”? It’s just a really good painting, guys.

But what if I told you that there’s more to it than just a painting of a guy and two dogs in a boat. What if I told you that this painting is clearly meant to represent the tripartite nature of God as according to the doctrine of the Trinity in most Christian denominations?

I shall explain. From what I remember from my good old Church of England primary school education (I went to a rural village primary school in England, it was hard to have anything else) the doctrine of the Trinity holds that God exists in three coequal, coeternal, consubstantial divine persons who share one essence: God the Father, God the Son, and the Holy Spirit. It was fully codified in the 4th century, following various councils (Nicea, Constantinople and what-have-you). I’ve often felt it is one of those aspects of Christianity, as further developed by the Europeans, that speaks to a natural yearning for Polytheism. This is also, incidentally, why I think Catholicism goes so hard on Saints). 

But getting back to the matter at hand, Ma DeVito’s painting almost perfectly captures the Christian understanding of the nature of God and the Trinity. I doubt it’s accidental; Scorcese rarely does anything by accident. And, in-story, Ma DeVito is no doubt a good catholic woman, with a good catholic education, who very deliberately included these religious allusions in her art. So allow this part-time library assistant, with a Masters in Creative Writing and a vague understanding of Christian theology, who’s very bored on this particular evening, to break down exactly how each of the figures in this painting correspond to a different aspect of the Trinity.

Let’s start with the obvious, the dog at the bottom is the smallest, patterned with reddish brown splodges, and gazes off to the right. Clearly, this figure represents God the Son, Jesus Christ. He gazes off to the right. Drawing on the traditional western writing order of left to right, we can interpret Right as the Future or more specifically the New Testament and the Gospel of Jesus. The splodges are meant to invoke Christ’s wounds on the cross, and indeed the two figures above him form a cross which is also brought to mind by the wood of the boat they stand on. There is even a palpable look of melancholy in his eyes, as though he knows and accepts the fate that is ordained to him.

The white dog, it goes without saying, represents the Holy Spirit. Pure white, like the dove so often associated with the Holy Spirit he stands slightly elevated, just as the Holy Spirit serves as God’s influence over his creation. We have previously established that looking to the Right means the Future and the New Testament, so it follows that the Left is the Past and the Old Testament. He serves as the balance and midpoint between God the Father and God the Son, and is slightly closer to the Father, even sharing his hair-colour, in-keeping with his position as the agent of God’s will. 

And that leaves us with the man sat above, his bearded visage instantly calling to mind the traditional Christian image of God the Father. He sits above the other two figures, acknowledging God the Father’s position at the head of the Trinity (coequal as they are) and looks directly to the viewer as if to ask “Whadda you want from me??!”. This is, and always shall be, a fundamental question in man’s relationship with God, and God’s relationship with man. 

Some other incidental features include that they are seated in a fishing boat - fish and fishermen have long been associated with Christianity - and are in the foreground of a long river stretching into the distance. The river is likely intended as a metaphor for the journey through life with the person of God waiting patiently to act as guide. The trees and wild greenery on the sides meanwhile seems to just be a nice little representation of God’s abundant creation.

It doesn’t end there, though. Each figure in the painting having been established as representing a piece of the Trinity, they can also each be linked to one of the trio - Jimmy, Henry, and Tommy - and hold clues about the direction each character will take. 

Jimmy corresponds to the bearded man, and God the Father. He is the most inscrutable, and quiet of the three, appearing to be the eldest and often takes the leadership and mentoring role. He is capable of great compassion and great fury and, as the film progresses, will serve as the final arbiter of who lives and who dies.

We see Henry in the white dog and the Holy Spirit. He serves as an errand boy, carrying out the will of his mafia bosses, just as the Holy Spirit carries out God’s will. Henry is often the peacemaker and balancing force between Jimmy and Tommy, mirroring the Holy Spirit’s position within the Trinity and the frequent identification with the Dove of Peace. The white colouring of the dog is also an ominous piece of foreshadowing towards Henry’s later involvement with cocaine and his consequent downfall. The white dog perches precariously upon the seat of the boat, apparently unaware, just as Henry is, of just how dangerous a balancing act he performs.

And of course that leaves Tommy as the smaller dog and God the Son. The impetuousness of youth made manifest, he says and does things that upset the status quo. He adores his mother, and often holds court with a crowd of attentive followers when he tells his stories. He will later be set up as a sacrificial lamb by Jimmy as God the Father, to die for the sins of others and keep their world at peace. But his memory rises again to drive the remainder of the film with things no more the same for his having died. When he meets his death he can only say “Oh No” with genuine sadness and the same look of resigned melancholy as the dog in the painting. 

Well there you have it. If you didn’t realise it before, you do now. 

I apologise for the time I have taken from your life bullshitting about Christian imagery in the Dog Painting in GoodFellas (probably a good time to mention I’m an atheist by the way) but I hope you at least enjoyed the ride. Now get out there, make yourself some pasta, look life right in the face and ask it “Whadda you want from me??!”