'The Sopranos:' So good it was criminal
So this mob boss walks into a psychiatrist's office.
What sounds like the start of a bad joke became the premise for the greatest TV show of all time.
Since 1999, HBO's "The Sopranos" has captivated viewers. After six seasons, last night was the start of the final nine episodes where Tony Soprano makes his final appointment with his psychiatrist and perhaps answers for the misdeeds of his lifestyle.
"The Sopranos" exists in limbo between TV and film. To call it simply a TV drama is to denigrate it, like describing eggs Benedict as an egg McMuffin. The show aspires to the level of cinema in far more than the rich production value, the use of light and shadows akin to "The Godfather" trilogy, and clever use of music.
Its characters are multi-faceted, deep and unconventional while those portraying them bring them to life with such authenticity, it sometimes ceases to feel like fiction and brings the viewer into a documentary chronicling real-life criminals.
James Gandolfini as Tony Soprano is one of the great actor-role pairings, along with Sean Connery as James Bond, Al Pacino as Scarface and Johnny Depp as Captain Jack Sparrow. Gandolfini is a master at using 100 percent of himself to show Tony's emotions and thoughts.
While in a therapy session, weighing a "business" decision or discussing what do to about his aimless son A.J. he slumps in his chair beneath the burden that is almost visible on his shoulders. When threatening someone who is behind on their payments or reprimanding one of his soldiers, he grabs them by the collar, pulling them close and right in their grill, yells at them with visible anger on his face and rage written on his clenched teeth.
The voice he uses on the show is much deeper than his natural one, much darker and more street. When Tony takes delight in making a big score, his face lights up with the glee of a child who ran downstairs to discover a bicycle on Christmas morning.
The writing is among the smartest and most impressive on TV, since in addition to creating full characters, the scribes manage to make "The Sopranos" one of the darkest and most violent programs, but are able to elicit uproarious laughter during some of the funniest scenes. When Dr. Melfi tells Tony his son "has stumbled onto existentialism" he sputters, "Freakin' Internet!"
The truth is Tony is a despicable human being, but he is so expertly humanized we can't help but relate to and even empathize with him. Rather than making him simply a tough guy Mafioso, series creator David Chase gave him flaws and admirable qualities, making him a complex character, which probably contributed to the show's longevity.
Tony first sees Dr. Melfi for help with panic attacks. Chase took the idea of Tony visiting someone professionally from his own experiences in therapy, but it works terrifically as a way to reveal to the viewers aspects of the character they would otherwise not see.
Although he holds sacred the oath he took when entering organized crime, he somehow can't stay true to his wife Carmela, played superbly by Edie Falco, who is never unconvincing.
Their marriage is another example of how details and thoroughness made the series so engrossing. "The Sopranos" shunned the conventional TV family and went deeper, showing more than the surface to create a family that argues over their children's education, Tony's rampant infidelities and trivial matters like the lack of smoked turkey in the fridge, another comic relief opportunity. Carmela angrily banging pots and pans in the kitchen and her shrill scream of "What is with you Tony?" are great touches.
The show took mundane activities and made them important as a way of making it more genuine. Tony on the couch eating ice cream and watching the History Channel or eating cold cuts from the fridge straight out of the package and sitting at the kitchen table with Carmela as she thumbs through the mail are realistic.
I feel like I've actually spent time in the Soprano home along with other series locations like the neighborhood pork store Satriale's, the Italian restaurant Vesuvio's and the Bada Bing, the "gentlemen's club" where Tony conducts much of his business. It's going to be difficult not making any new visits following the finale in June.
As I've aged I've come to appreciate different aspects of the show. Tony is a sentimental character with an appreciation for the past. As someone who has always been maudlin, I feel connected to this trait and it only makes the character more real. I feel while most viewers have little in common with "The Sopranos" we can still find pieces of ourselves in the characters, which I think is an important part of successful drama.
While the character's past is already set, Tony's future remains unknown. The conclusion is closely guarded, but Chase alluded to the ending not being a positive one, while Tony said in therapy most in his profession leave either by dying or going to prison. While we wait to see, we unfortunately know our fate as the audience. We are sentenced to life without "The Sopranos."
Chaz Holmes is the news assistant for the Columbia Basin Herald. He is a closet critic who spends a lot of time pondering the depths of television and movies.