As my kids "prepare" to reenter school, I'm rewatching the extraordinary third season of "The Sopranos," and I'm surprised to empathize with Tony.
The Soprano patriarch has always had a special bond with his daughter--this is captured early in the series, when a weary Meadow says, "Dad, to some extent, we're *all* hypocrites"--and it's part of the show's brilliance to turn these two characters into enemies. Meadow's arrival at Columbia represents a crisis for Tony; Meadow will now encounter people, and ideas, that clash with Tony's own point of view. Though Tony is footing the bill, he feels ambivalent about Meadow's new moments of self-exploration.
Meadow begins dating a good kid (given that this is "The Sopranos," the kid is of course pretentious and absurd, but still "decent")...The kid represents an "exit" for Meadow; she could (maybe) have a normal life. Tony objects, ostensibly for "racial" reasons, but the end result is far, far worse than Tony might imagine. Be careful what you wish for.
I have such admiration for the writers, who elegantly depict Meadow's discovery of her own power, Meadow's assertion of control over Tony. It's thrilling to watch Tony attempting to humble himself, attempting to use self-deprecation, as he watches Meadow slip from his grasp.
There is such careful attention to detail, such razor-sharp humor, in the "Meadow" scenes. One throwaway moment has Meadow urging her disturbed roommate to visit Undergraduate Health, to obtain anti-anxiety medication. "No more drugs for me," says the roommate, then she swigs vodka straight from the bottle.
It's strange to me that David Chase has been close to silent--for long stretches--since those final days of Season 6B.
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