Skip to main content

James Gandolfini: "Whitecaps"

 There are canonical moments in "The Sopranos" in which someone "rips the veil": Someone just tells the truth. A therapist informs Carmela that her money is blood money. Melfi tells Tony that he is "not respectful of women, not respectful of any humans, really."


In Season Four, the wonderful Russian emigre Svetlana offers harsh truths to Tony: "You Americans are coddled; you expect life to be easy." When Tony expresses his admiration for Svetlana's toughness, her inspirational example, Svetlana snorts. "Yes, that's why I exist. My life is just a story, to give you comfort as you embark on your journey."

This is my favorite scene in Season Four, because it leads to a twist: Tony suddenly notices Svetlana's sexual magnetism. And--through elegant plotting--the news of the Tony/Svetlana dalliance makes its way back to Carmela.

People complain about Season Four because Carmela's "emotional affair" feels too lightly plotted. I'll concede that Furio seems like a device; the actor can't give us much in the way of "intriguing inner life" moments. But I admire the writers' idea. Emotional affairs do happen in the world. The stakes are high--even if no one ends up murdered or even half-undressed.

The other part of Season Four that really moves me is Meadow's role. As the Soprano family "show pony," Meadow enjoys quoting SUNY Buffalo literary scholars, and alluding to scenes in "Billy Budd." At the same time, she is sort of an idiot. Carmela is right to observe that it's a foolish choice to leave one's door unlocked, if one is living in a Manhattan apartment in 2001. Additionally, Carmela scores points when she silently tolerates Meadow's snobbiness. ("Maybe I'll just enroll at Montclair State and drop out right away, like you did.") Meadow has--of course--flirted with the idea of becoming a dropout, and her lack of empathy in Carmela's presence suggests that she is kind of a twit.

And yet, and yet. I love when Meadow quietly pieces together what is really happening with her mother. Meadow then tries to coach her father, who believes that Carmela's emotional problems are "just something that has to do with menopause." Meadow is making great leaps, uncomfortable with the knowledge that she can see her parents in a new way. She wonders what to tell her father. All of this happens via subtext.

In my early twenties, I thought "Whitecaps" was just about the spectacular fights between Carmela and Tony. Now, I see that the hour is also--subtly--a story about Meadow Soprano.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

How to Host a Baby

-You have assumed responsibility for a mewling, puking ball of life, a yellow-lab pup. He will spit his half-digested kibble all over your shoes, all over your hard-cover edition of Jennifer Haigh's novel  Faith . He will eat your tables, your chairs, your "I {Heart] Montessori" magnet, placed too low on the fridge. When you try to watch Bette Davis in  Hush Hush Sweet Charlotte , on your TV, your dog will bark through the murder-prologue, for no apparent reason. He will whimper through Lena Dunham's  Girls , such that you have to rewind several times to catch every nuance of Andrew Rannells's ad-libbing--and, still, you'll have a nagging suspicion you've missed something. Your dog will poop on the kitchen floor, in the hallway, between the tiny bars of his crate. He'll announce his wakefulness at 5 AM, 2 AM, or while you and another human are mid-coitus. All this, and you get outside, and it's: "Don't let him pee on my tulips!" When...

The Death of Bergoglio

  It's frustrating for me to hear Bergoglio described as "the less awful pope"--because awful is still awful. I think I get fixated on ideas of purity, which can be juvenile, but putting that aside, here are some things that Bergoglio could have done and did not. (I'm quoting from a survivor of sexual abuse at the hands of the Church.) He could levy the harshest penalty, excommunication, against a dozen or more of the most egregious abuse enabling church officials. (He's done this to no enablers, or predators for that matter.) He could insist that every diocese and religious order turn over every record they have about suspected and known abusers to law enforcement. Francis could order every prelate on the planet to post on his diocesan website the names of every proven, admitted and credibly accused child molesting cleric. (Imagine how much safer children would be if police, prosecutors, parents and the public knew the identities of these potentially dangerous me...

Raymond Carver: "What's in Alaska?"

Outside, Mary held Jack's arm and walked with her head down. They moved slowly on the sidewalk. He listened to the scuffing sounds her shoes made. He heard the sharp and separate sound of a dog barking and above that a murmuring of very distant traffic.  She raised her head. "When we get home, Jack, I want to be fucked, talked to, diverted. Divert me, Jack. I need to be diverted tonight." She tightened her hold on his arm. He could feel the dampness in that shoe. He unlocked the door and flipped the light. "Come to bed," she said. "I'm coming," he said. He went to the kitchen and drank two glasses of water. He turned off the living-room light and felt his way along the wall into the bedroom. "Jack!" she yelled. "Jack!" "Jesus Christ, it's me!" he said. "I'm trying to get the light on." He found the lamp, and she sat up in bed. Her eyes were bright. He pulled the stem on the alarm and b...