
Timothy Noah chatted with readers about The Sopranos on June 7. Read the transcript here.
Dear Stretch (and this is the last time I call you that),
I would rather be Silvio as well, truth be told. The first thing I would do as Silvio is have Nils Lofgren whacked.
Speaking of whacking, the Brooklyn captain who was shot while dining with Silvio was named Gerry Torciano, who was introduced into the show, it seems, pretty much so that he could be killed. We haven't seen Torciano do much; it was his men who beat up Hesh and his son, you'll recall, but his role in the show has been limited. Imagine for a second being John Bianco, the actor who played Torciano, whose previous credits, according to the IMDB database, include playing "Worker No. 2" in a single episode of Law & Order in 2002 (I personally thought the guy who played Worker No. 1 gave his character depth that was missing in Bianco's Worker No. 2, but that's just me), and getting the call from Silvercup Studios: The good news is, we're casting you as a capo in the Lupertazzi Crime Family, the bad news is, you're going to have seven lines and then you're going to get killed. But don't worry, you'll still get Screen Actors Guild dental.
What a terrible bummer that must be. My friend David Segal had a hysterical piece in the Washington Post not long ago that cataloged the frustrations of actors whose characters die on The Sopranos; the guy whose heart gave out on the toilet a couple of seasons ago is still angry at David Chase, I'm told, not only for taking away his job, but for sending his character off in such an unmoblike way.
John Bianco, on the other hand, went out dramatically, though not realistically. The actual hit was unoriginal but not unreal, and the fallout was unconvincing. Faustino "Doc" Santoro, Torciano's rival for Lupertazzi leadership, had Torciano killed while dining with a Soprano family captain, Silvio, who seems not to have known that Torciano was to be shot in front of him. Silvio's life, and reputation, and suit, were put in danger by Santoro's decision, and the proper response from the Soprano family boss would have been to punish Santoro—not fatally, necessarily, but punish him in some physical or material way. Tony, however, impotently shrugs off the insult. This sequence reminded me of the observation made—in this very dialogue—by the great mob lawyer Gerry Shargel, who told me that a real-life Tony Soprano would have long ago been eliminated for his weaknesses.
My impression, and I'm sure the show will correct me, is that Torciano was killed merely to accelerate the chaos inside the Lupertazzi family, chaos that will somehow spill over into The Sopranos. But we don't know yet.
The Lupertazzi saga could be a massive feint; Tony might meet his end at Christopher's hands, or Paulie's hands, or he might not meet his end at all.
This is why I'm eager to cut to the last episode.
Talk to you next week.
Jeff
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Remarks from the Fray Editor:
As a basic cable slum-dweller, the Fray Editor has been following the discussion of The Sopranos with admiration and envy. The passion, erudition, and insight of the show's fans—Slate's commentators and Fraysters alike—proves the case that this series is not to be missed. Below, Fray poster lucabrasi considers how the 6.5 season story arc has led the show inevitably to the present moment.
May this weekend's finale exceed your wildest expectations. My prediction? Paulie Walnuts in the Bing with a shoe buffer.—G.A.
Remarks from the Fray:
I must salute the excellent close of the mob wars arc that started way back in Season One.
Looking back from today, with Tony's Jersey crime family indeed looking like a "glorified crew" in the eyes of New York, one can see it, almost clearly:
Season One: Tony's issues were of ascension in that smallish Jersey family. Jackie Sr. was dying; Uncle Junior was the designated "front don," and yet bitter enough about Tony's power to use Livia's ambiguous directives to hit Tony. Didn't work. Junior was exiled and took on Federal heat; Tony had the others killed.
Season Two: Richie Aprile gets out of prison. A theme begins: guys out of prison resent Tony, who never served. But Richie, too, is "local Jersey trouble." His escalating conflict with Tony is going to be dealt with rather easily -- Tony wants Richie hit, but Janice delivers a dose of even MORE "local" justice.
Meanwhile, I think NYC underboss Johnny Sack turns up living in Jersey, but promising Tony "I don't want to wet my beak."
The main NYC Don is Carmine Sr, an old school guy. Tony can deal with Carmine Sr, but Sack starts getting that lean and hungry look...
Seasons Three and Four: Other issues are on the table (Jackie Jr., Tony and Carm's marriage), but Tony's adversaries are manageable: made guy Ralphie and the ever-more-ambitious and angry Sack. Ralphie is eliminated, quietly (if NYC ever finds out...). Sack wants Tony to hit Old Man Carmine; Tony pulls out at the last moment. Sack looks to be vengeful.
Season Five: The big trouble all starts here, with the release of the "Class of '84". It's like four Richie Apriles. Tony has a lotta plates to spin: an old-timer named Feech who wants it all, locally, Tony's cousin Tony B, the "Rockford Guy" (Joe Santos) who Tony B idolizes as a father, and a real hothead named Phil Leotardo.
Carmine Sr. croaks. Phil joins with Sack against Little Carmine, Tony B joins with the Rockford Guy and Rusty in backing Little Carmine's play. Tony elects to back off and see how Jersey can benefit from the ensuing bloodshed, of which there is a lot.
During all this, two little matters occur: Seeking owed cash, Tony subjects Phil Leotardo to a body-breaking car crash and beats up Phil at the accident site as a "throw-in." Tony B kills Phil's brother Billy Leotardo.
In retrospect, these last two actions were perhaps...unfortunate.
Sack and Phil kill more guys than Little Carmine's team. Little caves ("It's a stagmire.") Sack ascends to Donhood. Tony can deal with Sack (having killed Tony B as a burnt offering), and Sack will stave off the still vengeful Phil Leotardo.
But right at the end of Season Five, the Feds nab Sack. Go directly to jail.
Season 6A: Sack's in prison, but the putative boss, with Phil fronting him on the outside. Tony's shot for a few episodes. The "gay Vito issue" gives Phil new reason for putting the pressure on Tony's Jersey boys. With Sack losing power by the day, Phil contemplates his rages against Tony: getting beaten up by Tony, paying money to Tony, brother killed by the cousin of Tony, gay Vito protected by Tony. Phil has a heart attack to match Tony's gutshot. Things seem peaceful between these two wounded warriors. But this guy Butch turns up, taunting Tony.
Season 6B. Tony's luck with New York runs out, via a series of crap outs: Sack dies of cancer; Doc kills Gerry; Phil kills Doc.. Phil is "the big boss man," finally, and the worst possible New York Don Tony Soprano could face. Filled with jailhouse vengeance and itching to consolidate power, Phil pushes Tony too far (with the sexual insult of Coco towards Meadow, ultimately). Tony retaliates (curbing); Phil says "there's nothing left to talk about," and here we are.
Now, I' m not sure how much of that was plotted early on by Chase and Company, but looking back on it, you see how this final, fatal gang war was literally years in the making. Tony Soprano fended off Jersey threats (Junior, Richie), kept the peace with Carmine Sr, dangerously dueled with Sack (the longest of Tony's strategic encounters), sat out the gang war to replace Carmine Sr...and ended up on the wrong end of Phil's bloody ascension to the throne of the New York Family.
Where things are now is where they HAVE to be. Inevitability.
--lucabrasi
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(6/9)