3.5 stars out of 5
I felt I owed it to David Chase to see this film in a theater. Way back, my coworker/friend Mona mentioned an upcoming HBO show, The Sopranos, that one of her fellow actors had scored a big part in. I thought it was maybe about opera singers. My cousin Ilene was a producer on the series, and soon a co-executive producer, then an executive producer. But mostly I was excited because we loved the show, and here in North Jersey, were kind of able to live it. The toll booth and Paul Bunyan Man on Tony’s drive from the city were familiar sites. With my buddies Joe and Bob we visited the Satriale’s location. Alone I checked out PizzaLand (also from Tony’s commute) and the diner where Christopher got shot.
That’s a lot of advance pressure on a movie, which was (understandably) marketed — against Chase’s will — as a Tony Soprano origin story. However, my own enthusiasm was somewhat curbed (eh, eh? #premiumcablesundays) by my fading recollections of Chase’s 2013 film Not Fade Away which was… OK, not great. Hey, there are TV people, and there are movie people (even in this “prestige” streaming era) and Chase will ultimately be remembered for The Sopranos and The Rockford Files. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.
Which is all to say, maybe I should’ve watched this on HBOMax. It’s a decent movie, and there is a lot for Sopranos fans to look for and enjoy, but Chase and director Alan Taylor are no Coppola, they are no Scorsese. (“Marty! Kundun! I liked it!”) There is not an epic sweep to the film, nor a genuine grittiness. The performances, though, are generally solid. Alessandro Nivola, as Dickie “Chris’s dad” Moltisanti, seems to know what he’s doing in this world, and doesn’t ham it up too much. Same for the increasingly reliable Jon Bernthal as Tony’s dad. Ray Liotta, however, misses a golden opportunity to give one of his completely terrifying, over-the-top portrayals as Dickie’s dad; perhaps he just can’t summon it anymore. (Operation Dumbo Drop will do that to a fella.) Liotta actually plays a dual role but… it’s just too stupid.
As far as the characters we know, New Jersey’s own Vera Farmiga lets us see the cracks already forming in Livia, and Corey Stoll is especially good as Junior — recognizably funny, angry, a little off, yet still making the character his own. Billy Magnussen as Paulie and John Magaro as Silvio are less successful, with Magaro particularly delivering a total caricature. Ooh, and there’s an indistinct guy playing Slightly Smaller Pussy, but there’s another actor in this movie who looks an awful lot like current-day Vincent Pastore/Big Pussy, so I’m sitting there flabbergasted: “Is he playing his younger self but actually looking older?!? Couldn’t they have done some of that Irishman digital de-aging?”
I’m pleased to report that Michael Gandolfini does a fine job filling his dad’s shoes, displaying the iconic character’s sensitivity and indecision as life pulls him in different directions. And there is a line or two of dialogue where the similarity in vocal timbre was eerie.
There’s another prominent storyline involving the Newark riots and Harold, an African-American associate of Dickie — played by… I want to say Leslie Uggams Jr.? — who eventually wants to start his own separate crime operation. Era- and setting-wise, this makes total sense to include, and for the most part it works, highlighting the hardcore racism and resistance to civil rights in the community, and also hinting at the transition from numbers running to narcotics.
Most importantly, David Chase doesn’t embarrass himself or the legacy of The Sopranos. The Many Saints fits in the canon, as my comic-book nerd friends might say. Plus, seeing Holsten’s luncheonette in the movie and later, passing it in real life on my drive home — that’s pretty cool.
Jack Silbert, curator