So I started watching The Sopranos
Sep. 3rd, 2015 08:19 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
next_to_normalWhenever anyone would tell me I should watch The Sopranos, I used to joke, "What do I need to watch it for? I've got my own dysfunctional Italian family." It was the same reason I always gave for never having seen The Godfather or any of the other mafia movies. But, you know, it was always meant to be sarcastic, because I was pretty sure my life actually bore very little resemblance to a TV show or movies about mobsters. I did grow up in New Jersey in an Italian-American family, but although we certainly had a criminal element, as far as I can tell, the crime was anything but organized, lol.
But people keep telling me how good it is, and this summer one of my favorite TV critics was doing a rewatch of the first season, so I said what the hell, I'll give it a shot. (I've only seen the first season so far.)
YOU GUYS IT IS SO EXACTLY MY DYSFUNCTIONAL ITALIAN FAMILY.
Forget the mafia stuff, obviously that is nothing like my normal life. But the CHARACTERS and the way they interact - I mean, for Christ's sake, watching scenes between Tony and his mother, Livia, I might as well be watching my father and my grandmother. Whole conversations that could've come word for word from our house. Even before I read that the original idea of the series was "a mobster having problems dealing with his mother," it was apparent that that relationship was the most well-developed right out of the gate and had to be based on creator David Chase's own experience because it felt so unbelievably authentic.
The entire first season plotline with Tony deciding to move his mother to a senior residential community and her accusing him of "sticking her in a nursing home with all these OLD PEOPLE" (like she's not one of them) and "selling the house out from under her" is pretty much beat for beat what we all did with Grandmom three years ago. There's one scene where Livia has come over to the Soprano house for dinner, and Carmela pointedly says, "Isn't it so nice that you live in a place where you can go out for an evening for dinner with your family?" and I swear to God I could hear my mother saying the exact same thing. (And of course, Livia gave her my grandmother's typical ungrateful grumbling response.)
And although my grandmother is actually somewhat senile and not just pretending to be to divert suspicion like Livia (OR IS SHE??), the paranoia and the emotional manipulation is spot-on. No one guilt-trips like an Italian grandmother, yo. Livia acting like Tony's doing this to her is somehow being disrespectful to her and ungrateful for all she did for him raising him, when it's all for her own damned good, and he comes to visit her all the time and brings her food and is trying his goddamned best to make her happy... You know. I'm actually really glad that my family doesn't have any mafia connections because I guaran-fucking-tee if my grandmother could put out a hit on my dad, she TOTALLY WOULD.
(I can also totally see my dad eventually trying to smother her with a pillow, lol. My mother and I are convinced no jury in the world would convict him, if they'd only met the woman.)
The other characters, too - while not as strongly identifiable, still feel extremely familiar in their speech and mannerisms and attitudes. Carmela reminds me of my Aunt Linda, AJ of my male cousins when they were that age. Paulie Walnuts is basically every single one of my father's uncles (whom I could never tell apart anyway). I also laughed a little bit at Artie Bucco's restaurant being called Vesuvio, because "Vesuvio" is the name of my dad's and my favorite dish at our favorite local family-owned Italian restaurant, which... bears some similarities to Artie's restaurant(s) on the show, minus the mob presence.
And then there's just the everyday little details that I had never seen on television before. Things we ate - and hearing other people pronounce prosciutto or ricotta like bruh-zoot or ri-gawt, and remembering my childhood confusion because no one else said it that way and the light bulb moment when I'd realize what my family was referring to and I suddenly realized I knew how to spell it. (I don't even want to talk about how old I was before I figured out that the "scud'ole" soup we ate at every holiday meal was actually ESCAROLE.).
Things my grandmother said in Italian that I was told never to repeat in front of other people. Being said ON MY TV. In fact, I finally learned how to spell a couple things I grew up hearing all the time but had never seen written down before I found a "The Sopranos Slang Guide," because "derogatory Italian slang for black people" is not a thing you want to be googling, you know?
I also learned that "comare" has an actual definition, which is not just "any lady my grandmother dislikes" even though that's how she seemed to use it. It's Italian for "godmother" but somehow also is slang for a man's mistress, so apparently all those years my grandmother was calling all those women sluts who sleep with other women's husbands? And they say TV isn't educational.
It's funny, because I sort of abstractly understood the need for non-white/cis/het/abled/wealthy/American/etc. representation on TV, because it's important for people to see themselves represented as part of the TV landscape. I never felt like I needed it, necessarily, because I figured I checked enough "default" boxes that most of what I saw was close enough. And then I discovered what it's like to actually see yourself represented and go, OMG YES THAT IS IT. THAT'S WHAT IT'S LIKE TO BE ME AND IT IS ON THE SCREEN IN MY LIVING ROOM AND IT IS AMAZING.
Interestingly, when I mentioned to my mother that I was watching The Sopranos, and how uncanny the depiction was, she said, "Yeah, that's why I couldn't watch it." Her answer was literally the same as my (uninformed) one used to be: "What do I need to watch it for? I've got my own dysfunctional Italian family." And part of me wanted to be like, "WHAT BUT IT IS AMAZING." And then the other part of me remembered that, although she is half-Italian, she didn't grow up in that Italian-American culture, and honestly, I think even after 40 years, she still has a little bit of a "what the hell did I marry into?" reaction to my dad's side of the family. Which is ironic, because if my mother is anyone on the show, it's not Carmela. She's Dr. Melfi - an outsider, slightly mystified by these people who shouldn't be that different from her but clearly are, yearning to understand and connect, and occasionally terrified of them, lol.
But people keep telling me how good it is, and this summer one of my favorite TV critics was doing a rewatch of the first season, so I said what the hell, I'll give it a shot. (I've only seen the first season so far.)
YOU GUYS IT IS SO EXACTLY MY DYSFUNCTIONAL ITALIAN FAMILY.
Forget the mafia stuff, obviously that is nothing like my normal life. But the CHARACTERS and the way they interact - I mean, for Christ's sake, watching scenes between Tony and his mother, Livia, I might as well be watching my father and my grandmother. Whole conversations that could've come word for word from our house. Even before I read that the original idea of the series was "a mobster having problems dealing with his mother," it was apparent that that relationship was the most well-developed right out of the gate and had to be based on creator David Chase's own experience because it felt so unbelievably authentic.
The entire first season plotline with Tony deciding to move his mother to a senior residential community and her accusing him of "sticking her in a nursing home with all these OLD PEOPLE" (like she's not one of them) and "selling the house out from under her" is pretty much beat for beat what we all did with Grandmom three years ago. There's one scene where Livia has come over to the Soprano house for dinner, and Carmela pointedly says, "Isn't it so nice that you live in a place where you can go out for an evening for dinner with your family?" and I swear to God I could hear my mother saying the exact same thing. (And of course, Livia gave her my grandmother's typical ungrateful grumbling response.)
And although my grandmother is actually somewhat senile and not just pretending to be to divert suspicion like Livia (OR IS SHE??), the paranoia and the emotional manipulation is spot-on. No one guilt-trips like an Italian grandmother, yo. Livia acting like Tony's doing this to her is somehow being disrespectful to her and ungrateful for all she did for him raising him, when it's all for her own damned good, and he comes to visit her all the time and brings her food and is trying his goddamned best to make her happy... You know. I'm actually really glad that my family doesn't have any mafia connections because I guaran-fucking-tee if my grandmother could put out a hit on my dad, she TOTALLY WOULD.
(I can also totally see my dad eventually trying to smother her with a pillow, lol. My mother and I are convinced no jury in the world would convict him, if they'd only met the woman.)
The other characters, too - while not as strongly identifiable, still feel extremely familiar in their speech and mannerisms and attitudes. Carmela reminds me of my Aunt Linda, AJ of my male cousins when they were that age. Paulie Walnuts is basically every single one of my father's uncles (whom I could never tell apart anyway). I also laughed a little bit at Artie Bucco's restaurant being called Vesuvio, because "Vesuvio" is the name of my dad's and my favorite dish at our favorite local family-owned Italian restaurant, which... bears some similarities to Artie's restaurant(s) on the show, minus the mob presence.
And then there's just the everyday little details that I had never seen on television before. Things we ate - and hearing other people pronounce prosciutto or ricotta like bruh-zoot or ri-gawt, and remembering my childhood confusion because no one else said it that way and the light bulb moment when I'd realize what my family was referring to and I suddenly realized I knew how to spell it. (I don't even want to talk about how old I was before I figured out that the "scud'ole" soup we ate at every holiday meal was actually ESCAROLE.).
Things my grandmother said in Italian that I was told never to repeat in front of other people. Being said ON MY TV. In fact, I finally learned how to spell a couple things I grew up hearing all the time but had never seen written down before I found a "The Sopranos Slang Guide," because "derogatory Italian slang for black people" is not a thing you want to be googling, you know?
I also learned that "comare" has an actual definition, which is not just "any lady my grandmother dislikes" even though that's how she seemed to use it. It's Italian for "godmother" but somehow also is slang for a man's mistress, so apparently all those years my grandmother was calling all those women sluts who sleep with other women's husbands? And they say TV isn't educational.
It's funny, because I sort of abstractly understood the need for non-white/cis/het/abled/wealthy/American/etc. representation on TV, because it's important for people to see themselves represented as part of the TV landscape. I never felt like I needed it, necessarily, because I figured I checked enough "default" boxes that most of what I saw was close enough. And then I discovered what it's like to actually see yourself represented and go, OMG YES THAT IS IT. THAT'S WHAT IT'S LIKE TO BE ME AND IT IS ON THE SCREEN IN MY LIVING ROOM AND IT IS AMAZING.
Interestingly, when I mentioned to my mother that I was watching The Sopranos, and how uncanny the depiction was, she said, "Yeah, that's why I couldn't watch it." Her answer was literally the same as my (uninformed) one used to be: "What do I need to watch it for? I've got my own dysfunctional Italian family." And part of me wanted to be like, "WHAT BUT IT IS AMAZING." And then the other part of me remembered that, although she is half-Italian, she didn't grow up in that Italian-American culture, and honestly, I think even after 40 years, she still has a little bit of a "what the hell did I marry into?" reaction to my dad's side of the family. Which is ironic, because if my mother is anyone on the show, it's not Carmela. She's Dr. Melfi - an outsider, slightly mystified by these people who shouldn't be that different from her but clearly are, yearning to understand and connect, and occasionally terrified of them, lol.
