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 March 5, 2000 EPISODE 8: You Can't Always Get What You Want Here's something stupid I did when I was sixteen years-old: It was my birthday (April first—no joke), and I had just gotten my driver's license. Hoping to impress my girlfriend at the time, I picked her up at her house, got on the highway, and drove straight down to the coolest location I could think of back then: the fancy shops and artsy cafes of Coconut Grove, Florida. (Okay, so it was a half-hour ride to an outdoor mall, but I was sixteen—cut me some slack). So there we are: we're getting closer to the Grove, I've got my honey by my side, and the FM radio blaring from the fuzzy speakers of the Mercury Apri (it used to be a Capri, but after my dad had a minor accident, the C fell off, leaving me with an Apri). Now here's the stupid part: Since it's the first day I'd ever driven alone, I get slightly lost and overshoot our destination. Trying not to lose face, I casually pull into the left lane and hook a quick U-turn. Only problem is, I make said U-turn straight into a wave of oncoming traffic. Needless to say, the horns honk, the tires screech, and I look like the biggest dope on Miami Beach (except for the guy wearing the fluorescent-pink Spuds Mackenzie T-shirt). So what's the lesson? First, the driving age is too low in Florida. Second, I had a lot of hair back then. And third—here's the important part—unchecked desire and too much freedom will always lead you to do something stupid. Character by character, this week's episode drives home this point (without the fluorescent T-shirt). Let's start with Tony's wife, Carmela. What does she want? Nothing more than for her daughter Meadow to get into a good college (preferably Georgetown: I'm hoping and praying to Jesus that she gets in. Her paper on the melting ice cap made me cry it was so poignant.) Good college is every suburban mother's desire, and, like her husband, Carmela knows how the system works. When Tony says not to worry because Meadow's in the National Honor Society, Carmela shoots back, "Don't be naive, Tony! These days, it's all who you know and how many buildings you give." Ahhh, can you smell that American Dream? For most families, all we can do is complain. But for the Sopranos, they have their own way of doing things. It's not long before Carmela finds her Georgetown connection—in the form of local Georgetown alum, Joan. Of course, Joan's already written her one recommendation for the year, so she can't possibly do one for Meadow. End of story, right? Wrong. Whattya think this is, Happy Days? Refusing to take no for an answer, Carmela bakes a ricotta pie, heads down to Joan's office, and asks again. "I can't do it," Joan says. Carmela's eyes narrow. "I don't think you understand." It's a breakthrough moment for Carmela's character. Sure, she hates what her husband does for a living, but when she's the one who's not getting what she wants, well, let's just say she's been paying attention all these years. Carmela never makes a threat, but we all get the picture. She needs Joan to write that letter. Indeed, as she lowers the pie onto Joan's desk, she forcefully adds, "Thanks for this." The message is clear: Carmela wants to help her daughter, and she'll do whatever it takes to get it done. In fact, when she learns that Joan's going to write the recommendation, Carmela has the perfect mom-reaction: "Do you have a copy" Sure, it's a little bit mobster-for-the-Redbook-set, but it works. In fact, Carmela becomes so singleminded, she even throws away a letter from Berkeley so Meadow cannot apply to a school that's so far out West (physically and philosophically). Later, she rethinks it and pulls the letter from the trash, but the damage is done. For Carmela, who we later see sketching a picture of her son, we wonder if that's all it's really about: her drawing in what she wants to see. From there, we go desire by desire, through the rest of the cast: Christopher (who's newest desire is to rededicate himself to the family) starts working double-time with his mob-wanna-be buddies, Matt and Sean; Adrianna (who has been dumped on by Christopher over and over again) lets her desire get the best of her when she agrees to marry him; Richie (who wants to keep Tony happy) gives Tony the prized leather jacket he stole from Rocco DeMeier ("silk lining/real Corinthian leather") and even agrees to Tony's request to build a handicap ramp for a victim he leaned on too hard (see Episode 1); and finally, Matt and Sean (who want nothing more than to be wiseguy bigshots) decide to take some mob matters into their own hands. It's an episode of big decisions—all of which have disastrous results. For Adrianna, we know she's in for a life of misery; for Richie, we know Tony hates the jacket (he gives it to his maid's husband); for Matt and Sean, their hastily-planned mob hit gets one of them killed and puts the other on the run; and for Christopher, the victim of said hit --his desire to embrace the family gets him half a dozen bullets in the chest. As usual, it's left to Dr. Melfi to sort it out, and when Tony tries to confront his own actions (he stupidly gave his daughter a car that once belonged to her friend), we get to the day's lesson. As Dr. Melfi says, "Maybe you were preparing her for reality—teaching her to fly." "You people are something," Tony shoots back, enraged. "I give my daughter a car to rub her face in shit, and you're telling me I did something noble?" Right there, we see the converse of what's come before. The rest of the family is trying to do (what they perceive to be) good, and it turns out bad. Tony thinks he's doing something bad, and in reality, it turns out good. As Tony says at the end of the show, "How could this happen?" Whatever the result, Meadow isn't the only one who's learning to fly. On some level, they're all trying to leave their personal nests, but—like getting your driver's license and taking it too fast—too much desire can kill you. Oh, and that old girlfriend. She married me. Really. LAW-BREAKING MOMENT OF THE WEEK: Shooting Christopher in the chest. 'Nuff said. © Brad Meltzer Previous Episode | Next Episode