The Sopranos: family like you've never seen it before

One of the many things I will remember the UK Lockdown for is viewing all six seasons of The Sopranos on DVD. I have since learned that I was not the only one re-treading the New Jersey-based crime drama: Roddy Doyle recently spoke of watching the series with his partner on the radio, and finding unexpected pleasure in how well it has stood the ten years since its finale in 2007. From May to August of this year, The Guardian itself even complimented my viewing schedule by publishing several articles about the series. 

The Sopranos is brilliant for a number of reasons, but mostly for the fictional anti-hero of Tony Soprano (played with immense charisma by James Gandolfini), and his Italian-American family. Tony’s almost Shakespearian presence is pitted against a smorgasbord of characters in each season, ranging from his hilarious mother to Uncle Junior, and the later mobsters of Ralph Cifaretto and Phil Leotardo.

 

These tectonic shifts in power are wonderfully contrasted, and maybe even softened, by their individual domestic lives. Tony’s morning collection of the newspaper from the driveway, his private therapy discussions with Dr. Jennifer Melfi, and dinnertime arguments with his wife and children, for example, comprise much of each episode’s runtime. These small acts of life humanise what might otherwise be considered a show that glorifies its violence, and certainly, you come to appreciate the characters for who they are behind closed doors.

 

The Sopranos was also a welcome relief from binge-worthy television shows – particularly the bite-size episodes of Sally Rooney’s adaptation of Normal People – as I deliberately avoided rushing through each season, usually watching one episode per night. Allowing some time for each episode to rest certainly encouraged my awareness of its nuances, tracking the various story arcs with more care, whilst anticipating the many uncertainties of Tony’s future.

 

Escapism might be the wrong word to describe The Sopranos, and global turbulence during the Covid-19 pandemic was, in many ways, reflected in its family politics and changing allegiances. However, from its first scenes to the very last, David Chase’s ode to criminal organisation kept me entertained, and invested in a number of people whose lives suddenly meant a great deal. Surely that is the best kind of television?