The trick to The Sopranos prequel movie isn’t about showing us events referenced in the TV show, argues Huw. It’s always been more nuanced than that.
Jon Bernthal and Michael Gandolfini in The Many Saints of Newark (2021).
Spoilers for The Sopranos TV series ahead.
For The Sopranos fans, the lockdown has proved both a blessing and a curse. Millions of new watchers binged David Chase’s mafia drama. A new generation resonated with Tony Soprano’s remark in the very first episode: “Lately, I’m getting the feeling that I came in at the end”. Yet as with so many films, the pandemic pushed back the release of prequel film The Many Saints Of Newark by a full year, a wait made more agonising by the near total lack of information.
The hype train is now running again, with the first batch of reviews landing and the film in cinemas. Discussions have understandably centred on the prospect of seeing first-hand many of the anecdotes told on the show. But such discussions miss the point over the promise that this new film – and indeed the series itself – represents. We don’t need to see the heist of Feech La Manna’s card game take place, as we can deduce that the decades have provided the space for these mafiosos to mythologise the incident.
What The Sopranos did best was reveal how easy it is for people to commit acts of evil for the simplest reasons, be they to retain self-image, for a cheap laugh, or even out of laziness. This is Hannah Arendt’s ‘banality of evil’ applied to blue collar sub-urban life. What Many Saints presents, at its core, is the opportunity to explore further just how little pressure people need to feel before acts of evil become not just easy, but irresistible.
What The Sopranos did best was reveal how easy it is for people to commit acts of evil for the simplest reasons
Evil
At the start of the television series, such acts of evil are presented to be understandable – even relatable – to the audience. Take Uncle Junior’s murder of a local drug dealer in Pax Soprana after the death of a friend’s addict grandson. On the face of it, this could be seen as an act of vigilante justice. Yet as the series goes on, Chase gives the viewer enough evidence to know that this justification is a lie.
We know Junior doesn’t care about the effect drugs have on the community, because in season two he profits from selling cocaine – all it takes is financial pressure.
We know he doesn’t really care about the untimely death of a young person, because in season five he attends the funeral of a seven-year-old just as an excuse to get out of house arrest. We know he doesn’t care about his friend’s grief over the young addict’s death, because in season four he quickly loses patience over Bobby’s grief for his wife – all it takes is being minorly inconvenienced.
What we’re left with is the true reason why Junior killed the drug dealer: it made him feel powerful. Time and again, ego pushes these people to commit acts of evil.
The fear of embarrassment is a key concern for most of these egotistical characters.
Arguably this is best exemplified in the personification of toxic masculinity that is Phil Leotardo. Tim O’Brien’s The Things They Carried talks about how US soldiers in Vietnam died of embarrassment in a literal sense: they would rather put themselves in lethal situations than have their comrades think of them as cowardly. Phil takes this further, committing an act of slow and personal murder against the recently-outed Vito Spatafore out of a fear of humiliation.
The fear of embarrassment is a key concern for most of these egotistical characters
What pushes Phil to commit this act of evil? Fear of embarrassment by association, Vito being married to a relation of Phil’s. This grievous ‘overcorrection’ stems too from the fear that any leniency towards homosexuality could lead to questions over what urges Phil might have given into during his “20 fuckin’ years” in prison.
Shock
Tony Soprano’s own descent into evil remains the most fascinating, and most shocking, for two key reasons.
Firstly, unlike most characters, he repeatedly (if not consistently) showed warmth to his family, friends and civilians. We could see the foundations of a good person peeking out beneath the selfishness, greed and wrath.
Secondly, Tony’s moral degradation seems to, in large part, be driven by simple irritation, against the ‘happy wanderers’ and the inconveniences brought by those around him alike.
Left to right: Steven Van Zandt as Silvio Dante, James Gandolfini as Tony Soprano and Tony Sirico as Paulie Walnuts star in The Sopranos (HBO).
The second half of season six demonstrates what a morally repulsive person he’s allowed himself to become, each episode a study in his inability to forgive (Bobby), tolerate (Paulie), or even abide by his own Mafia rules (Hesh).
This builds to a crescendo in Heidi And Kennedy, after sort-of nephew and surrogate son Chris Moltisanti relapses, again, causing a terrible car accident. With Chris badly injured and unable to move, Tony begins dialling 911, hesitates, and decides instead to pinch Chris’ nose shut. As he slowly chokes on his own blood, Chris’ eyes convey the desperation of a person realising he’s being murdered by the very man he is going to hell for.
Even more chilling is the look of utter emptiness in Tony’s eyes. Those same eyes which throughout the series have burned with rage, have brimmed with cunning, even occasionally sparkled with the naivety of a child. Those eyes are now dulled beyond dark, into true blackness: this is the abyss staring back.
The Many Saints of Newark gives us the chance to be there from the ground floor
To commit this act of evil, Tony has rid himself of all emotion, positive or negative: he has become comfortably numb. This is the point of no return for Tony’s soul, the true conclusion of his story. Whatever happened in that Holsten’s diner is academic – there is no Tony Soprano left to mourn.
What Many Saints can add to this story is to show how little pressure it took to begin Tony’s start of darkness, what humanity he stood to lose, and how different things could have been for all those left in his wake.
Much like Tony, we the audience came in at the end of things: Tony had already committed acts of evil and compromised his soul, if not wholly. Now, over two decades since The Sopranos premiered, The Many Saints of Newark gives us the chance to be there from the ground floor. When the film starts, keep Tony’s best advice in mind: ‘If you’re lucky, you’ll remember the little moments like this, that were good.’
