As you can imagine, a lot of fuss
is being made about this year being the 20th anniversary of the
debut of the groundbreaking HBO mob drama The
Sopranos. And for once, the fanfare is justified. David Chase’s series
broke the mold and totally reshaped what a television series could do. It
turned HBO from a modest cable network into the main source for what can only
be described as a revolution in what the medium was capable of.
HBO would be at the forefront for
much of it: having already set the tone with Sex and the City and Oz, it
would continue to shape the game with incredible series such as Six Feet Under, The Wire and Deadwood. And if one wants to look at a
series as a genealogy of television, the writers who would work on the series
would go on to create some truly remarkable series as well. The most famous of
these scribes was Matthew Weiner, who brought forth AMC’s Mad Men, but just as astonishing were some of the series that came
forth by regulars or those who just passed through: Todd Kessler would create Damages, Terence Winter would bring
forth Boardwalk Empire, and James
Manos, who left after the first season would create Showtime’s signature series
Dexter.
And I haven’t even mentioned all of
the memorable actors who graced the screen. Understandably James Gandolfini and
Edie Falco got the lion’s share of the attention as Tony and Carmela Soprano.
Falco alone probably has entire shelf in her apartment holding up all of the
awards she got in one of the most remarkable female roles in TV history. But
the entire cast covered themselves in glory – from Lorraine Bracco in what
would we her greatest role as Dr. Melfi, Dominic Chianese as Uncle Junior,
Michael Imperioli as Christopher, all the way down to Steven Schirripa as Bobby
and Drea De Matteo as Adriana.
It was a superlative series
routinely regarded as one of the greatest – if not the greatest ever made. (Only The
Wire and Breaking Bad are
considered in the same breath) Yet I spent most of my early years as a
television critic, railing against how messy and often overblown I thought that
the series was, that it was an ugly and disgusting show, that never delivered
on its brilliant first season. And that was before
the controversial finale. (I’ll get to that in a bit.) Looking at my
earlier readings of those reviews, I can’t help but cringe at some of my
naïveté.
Among my complaint was the
gratuitousness of the violence. Now compared to a lot of the series that have
come in The Sopranos aftermath, it
seems also mild in comparison. But I had come from being a huge fan of Oz, Tom Fontana’s prison dramas, without
which, its pretty safe to say, there would have been no The Sopranos. And while I could understand the endless cycle of
prison violence (many of which involved detain ex-wiseguys), for some reason I
couldn’t accept it in the ‘normal world’.
I believe my biggest argument
against was that it seemed to be to default reaction of every major character.
They always seemed to have a choice, and they always took the bloody option.
What I think I completely missed was that this was the crux of so much of what
Chase had at the center of the series. Given the nature of what man deals with,
he will always choose the easy option. In the case of Tony and his clique, that
was omerta.
More to the point, Chase was
arguing that change with people is difficult, and most people don’t want to do
it. How many times did Carmela come face to face with so much Tony’s violence
and infidelities? In the most famous climax of the series – that of the fourth
season – she actually gathered the nerve to throw him out of the house. Yet at
the end of the following season, she let him return, even though he wouldn’t
even promise to change. She was trying to find a way to live, and she couldn’t
do it without the lifestyle. You don’t have to be a rocket scientist to see the
implications in the legitimate world – how many times did the Clintons make their own compromises?
Perhaps the clearest case of this
is Christopher. In the early seasons, he was torn between his birthright as a
wiseguy, and his desire to go into movies. On more than one occasion, he tried
to reach for that. But Tony’s inner ugliness – and charisma – kept pulling in.
And it really cost him everything he cared about, including his life in the
last episodes.
The other thing that probably
unsettled me was the way that Chase and his colleagues completely destroying
the idea of an arc, delivering anticlimax after anticlimax. Richie Aprile
seemed to be about to become a threat to Tony. Then Janice shot him in the
penultimate of Season 2. Furio seemed about to become a rival to Tony and a romantic
lover of Carmela. He returns to Italy ,
never to be seen again. And don’t even ask what happened to that Russian who
got away in the Pine Barrens . Even the writers
don’t know.
Maybe that’s the real reason we
shouldn’t have been so shock when the series final episode cut to black just
before it seemed anything big was going to happen to Tony. Was he ever
prosecuted? Shot by Members Only guy?
Choked to death on an onion ring? We’re never going to know for sure,
and I have a feeling Chase likes it that way. It’s possible that Chase will
give a deathbed confession as to what really happened to Tony afterward, but I
imagine the only reason he will is because by then, it would be an anticlimax after all the
speculation before, during, and after. And I kind of think he likes that.
But for all that, perhaps the thing
that really is the scariest about The
Sopranos is what it says about human nature. As Tony said in the Pilot to
Dr. Melfi: “I feel like I came in at the end”. Many took it to say, he meant
not just the end of the mob as a power, but that of the American Dream as
whole. I think there may actually be something even darker than that at the
core. In Oz, one could justify all
the bleakness by saying the characters were in prisoner and victims of the system.
One could make the same argument for most of the characters in the spider web
of The Wire. But in The Sopranos, most of the characters
were upper-class or working class white people. Always making what was the easy
choice for them, never thinking of other people or how thinks affected them.
Never was this more evident in ‘Kennedy and Heidi’, the two teenagers forced
Tony and Christopher into a car wreck, then refused to go back because it was
dark and she was on her learner’s permit – an accident that led to
Christopher’s death. Are we all just variations on The Sopranos? Are we all
going to leave problems for other people to deal with? Its unsettling – hell,
its terrifying to even think of it. And what does that say about us as viewers?
What we can be sure of is that
while Tony thought he came in at the end, it was really the beginning. The New
Golden Age of Television could not have happened without The Sopranos. And that really is something to celebrate. We may all
be going to hell for it, but at least it’ll be fun getting there.
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