Rear View Mirror is a monthly TV show column that examines the cultural influence and societal reflection of the “New Golden Age of Television,” prioritizing shows from the late 1990s to the mid-2010s.
Disclaimer: There may be slight spoilers ahead.
“The Sopranos” is arguably one of the most highly regarded television shows of all time. The program’s premiere put HBO on the map in 1999, establishing it as a network willing to redefine the boundaries programming can cross concerning touchy subjects including crime, death and sex.
“The Sopranos,” which ran until 2007, centers around Northern New Jersey-based Italian mob boss Tony Soprano — played by the legendary James Gandolfini — and his attempts at getting his mental health and family under control. For Tony, family takes on a double meaning, as he juggles his relationship with his wife Carmela (Edie Falco), his two children A.J. (Robert Iler) and Meadow (Jamie-Lynn Sigler) as well as his Cosa Nostra “family.”
There is a lot to be said about how “The Sopranos” depicts depression, anxiety, addiction, infidelity, crime, murder and money, but one aspect of the show stands out as a running theme: people’s willingness, or unwillingness, to change.
“Depression is rage turned inward”
Tony suffers a panic attack in the pilot episode, causing him to collapse at his son’s birthday barbeque, following A.J.’s iconic line, “So what, no f***in’ ziti now?”
A.J.’s potty mouth did not induce Tony’s attack. Rather, the beloved family of ducks living in Tony’s pool had finally flown South, a metaphor for Tony’s feelings about his own family slipping away, with his children growing up and preparing to leave their nest.
Tony, who had been experiencing a heavy level of responsibility as the top dog in his turn-of-the-century North Jersey crime family, was profoundly impacted by the change in his life.
To treat his newly discovered anxiety, Tony entered the office of psychiatrist Dr. Jennifer Melfi (Lorraine Bracco).
Over the next six seasons, Tony meets with Dr. Melfi numerous times, though his depression and anxiety are never truly treated, seemingly due to his unwillingness to give up his deadly career, gambling tendencies and infidelity.
The root of Tony’s mental health problems may also lie with his unbearable and loveless mother, Livia (Nancy Marchand) — a possibility Dr. Melfi suggests constantly throughout the show.
Throughout the series, Tony often rejects being open about his feelings in the name of being a stoic alpha male. He even discusses this notion with Dr. Melfi in the pilot.
“Nowadays, everybody’s gotta go to shrinks, and counselors, and go on ‘Sally Jessy Raphael’ and talk about their problems,” Tony states. “What happened to Gary Cooper? The strong, silent type. That was an American.”
In Tony’s mind, it is not ideal for a mafia boss to see a shrink because doing so would supposedly give his “employees” and business associates a reason to look down on him.
Many people share the opinion that seeking therapy will make them seem weak in the eyes of their family and friends — a stigma society has been tackling in recent years.
One thing “The Sopranos” makes very clear is that Tony is a man who desperately needs therapy and medication. On the surface, Tony obliges with that need, even if he is not doing enough real work for any progress to stick.
The golden days
The death of small-town America and the expansion of governmental bureaucracy are phenomena that have been intensely felt in the last 50 years of the 20th century, and the organized crime network hasn’t been spared.
Tony is just one individual in an expansive mafia family, and by the turn of the century, the Italian mob was not what it used to be.
Throughout the series, Tony and his underlings often reference “The Godfather” movies and use them as symbols of greatness the mob once encapsulated. However, the grandeur and respect associated with “The Godfather” movies do not reflect the lives of Tony and his associates.
The North Jersey mob engages in activities like selling drugs on garbage routes, offering protection to businesses that, at times, do not want or need it, arranging gambling events where the house — which is the mob itself — often wins and laundering money through establishments like the Bada Bing, a strip club seemingly located at the edge of the Earth.
Tony and his crew enjoy the wealth they accumulate through fine dining, expensive vehicles and extravagant vacations, yet their main hang-out spot is in the back of a butcher shop. Classy.
The glitz and glamor of the mob is simply not the same as it was 40 or 50 years prior.
Instead, franchises moved into neighborhoods where mobsters once strangled money out of small businesses, with law enforcement waiting to crack down on them and put some main players in prison. The golden days were over, but the modern mob could not let them go.
Carmela Soprano’s inner conflict
Carmela Soprano is a smart and savvy woman who fell in love with Tony in high school, eventually committing to him — and the life he leads — through marriage.
Carmela lives a charmed life in a large home, where she enjoys expensive jewelry, clothing and great opportunities for her children. Despite the luxuries she is afforded, Carmela is painfully aware of her and her husband’s unsavory behaviors.
In the early episodes, Carmela runs to her priest in tears, feeling guilty about her husband’s crimes, at one point saying, “I have forsaken what is right, for what is easy.” Carmela does not explicitly condone how Tony makes a living, and this notion is repeated throughout the show.
Interestingly enough, however, Carmela uses her force as the first lady of North Jersey to her advantage. Like Tony, she cannot turn down the money and power her position provides.
For instance, when her daughter Meadow needs a letter of recommendation for her application to Georgetown University, Carmela goes to her neighbor Jeannie Cusamano (Saundra Santiago), whose sister is a lawyer and Georgetown alum.
After Jeannie tells Carmela that her sister will not write the letter, Carmela shows up at Joanie’s — Jeannie’s sister — office with a threat, “I don’t think you understand, I want you to write that letter.”
Carmela is often upset by her family’s mob affiliation, but also uses it to her advantage when it is convenient for her. Through her, the show captures how power and money obstruct a person’s willingness to change and eliminate one’s sense of cognitive dissonance.
Holding a mirror up to society
People have trouble with change. It is uncomfortable and inconveniencing. This fact has become more apparent as the world seems to advance and alter every day, from politics to climate change to the ever-increasing cost of living.
At the same time, outside factors are not the only things that induce unwilling people to take on new directions. Our inner belief systems can be immovable depending on how they benefit us.
Ultimately, as Tony’s habits, rage and sociopathic behavior coax his illness on, the only person who can stop it is himself. Still, Tony does not want to alter his life for the improvement of his health because the appeal of power, wealth and sex is too strong to resist.
If this concept sounds familiar, do not be alarmed; the same behavior is reflected in famous politicians, celebrities and even everyday people. Altering one’s life completely is a step many refuse to take — even if it will benefit themself and those they love most.
The magic of “The Sopranos” demonstrates how even self-hatred — and the threat of moral and physical demise — cannot push us to take on new ways of living.
Possibly, the show’s most frightening aspect is that people may not be capable of change, no matter how hard they try. And the future implications of that reality seem grim, at best.