THE SOPRANOS Reviewed by Brad Meltzer (These reviews originally appeared on e.findlaw.com, and the best part of the deal was, Brad got to watch each episode a week early!) Go to Episode Review: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 February 20, 2000 EPISODE 6: A Day In The Life First, a disclaimer: When HBO sent me this week's advance copy of The Sopranos, there was a small note on the videocassette box notifying me that this episode "is a rough cut." Of course, being a well-respected Hollywood insider, I know exactly what that means: it means the cut is really, really (I'm talking really) rough. For that reason, the episode I viewed may be slightly different than the one that actually airs. With that said: when they do make their final edits, I hope the producers don't cut the very-human scene where Tony weighs himelf in the doctor's office. Moreover, while I think Tony should have a recognizable mode of transportation (a la, the Batmobile or Herbie the Love Bug), I think a big black Cadillac with the words "HBO Rulz!" painted on the side of it was a crass first step into the sell-out world of overcommercialization. Finally, Microsoft should not sponsor Edie Falco's character and, therefore, the "Windows 2000" sticker should be removed from her upper lip. (We're talkin' sarcasm, folks!) In terms of the rest of the episode, it was an interesting week. As any regular viewer knows, the last few episodes have been brilliantly crafted character studies where the action is really all in the subtext (like when Paulie punched that guy in the face—oooh, that was good subtext). This week, though, they just went for the fun. A little Meadow, a little Melfi, a little leg-breaking—throw in Frank Sinatra, Jr. (playing himself at a poker game, thank you very much) and you get a veritable bouillabaisse of entertainment starring American's toughest family (except for the cast of Who's the Boss, who're really tougher than anyone (think about it—Tony vs. Tony)). Of course, that doesn't mean they completely ignored the characters and all that knuckle-biting personal-growth and psychology stuff. Indeed, the episode explored the idea of "Tony Ascendant." Tony's head of the family, head of the neighborhood, and a step ahead of his mother, his uncle, and his rival/partner, Richie. He's got it so together, he's even in control of the ultra-respected poker match known as "The Executive Game." But like the rest of us, Tony keeps asking himself, "Am I happy?" So, is he? Check out this response: when shrink Dr. Melfi asks what he's thinking, Tony replies, "I'm thinking I'd like to take a brick and smash your f***in' face into f***in' hamburger." Nice manners, babe! In many ways, though, we know what Tony's thinking. Even when he's in control—even when we all think we're in control—we're just a banana peel away from slipping on the sidewalk and cracking our heads open. That's just a fact of life—which is why Tony says to Richie, "I don't make 'em [the rules]—they've always been there." Like the man says, even the big bad bosses know they're never completely in charge. And when we see sister Janice egging on Richie and telling him that the $50,000 Tony gave him when he got out of jail is nothing compared to what they used to give out in the old days, we know that, for the most part, Tony's right—and the banana peel (especially when it's put there on purpose) is just a few episodes away. In terms of the rest of the plot, here's another one of my best cracks at a TV Guide-ish snippet: "The father of one of Meadow's friends gets in major trouble when he loses big at Tony's high-stakes poker game." So is that the fun part? Sure. Does our heart sink when we find out a family friend is down "45 boxes of 'ziti'"? Absolutely. Is it mortifying when he gets beat up by Tony and is forced to sell his son's SUV to pay him back? You better believe it. But is that the best part of the show? Not by the hair of my chinny, chin, chin. As always, the show's best work is in the details. Like when tough-guy Christopher goes to the fish market and asks that all-too-human question about a fish he's never tasted: "Is it fishy?" Or when Carmela, realizing that her husband is going to beat someone up, musters that perfect my-daughter's-applying-to-college suburban mother response: "I just hope you know his wife is very close to the brother-in-law of a Provost at Georgetown!" Or how about when Tony's doing his business at the high school urinal and a friend comes in? Does the friend get real close at the next urinal? No—he scoots over, leaving an empty urinal between them. And when a second friend comes in, does that guy use the empty one in the middle? No way, Paco! He doesn't go at all. He just washes his hands! That's the boys bathroom in America! (That's it, six columns before I hit the bathroom humor—now the pee is gonna start a-flying!). It may sound crazy, but those are the touches that make The Sopranos great. Indeed, if all Tony did was throw around some mob lingo and pay off a few cops, we wouldn't be tuning in (okay, maybe we would—just to see Carmela's hair). But as I've always maintained, it's the minutiae of life that makes us who we are. Eating breakfast, applying to college, your reaction at a funeral—that's life. Make those parts real, and we're on board. Then, when Tony says he wants to make our face into hamburger, we know it's not just a two-dimensional monster—it's a true-to-life, living-right-next-door-to-you nightmare. And while it may not be everyone's cup of tea, that's the part that's gonna keep you staring at the ceiling, and thinking, and wondering, and worrying all night long. And that's no rough cut. LAW-BREAKING MOMENT OF THE WEEK: Christopher stuffing a matchbook under the scale in the fish market so he wouldn't have to pay full price for the snapper. © Brad Meltzer Previous Episode | Next Episode