My husband and I are currently rewatching two of the best television series ever produced, Mad Men and The Sopranos. And it’s fair to say that I’m in love with both Tony Soprano and Don Draper. Two men that, on the surface, are as different as night and day, but share so many similarities.
Jimmy, we feel like we knew you.
James Gandolfini’s portrayal of Tony Soprano, a mob boss who suffers from anxiety-induced panic attacks so severe that he passes out, is a mass of contradictions. He knows he’s not a good guy, but wants to be. He can beat a nemesis to death with hands the size of a catcher’s mitt, yet feeds ducks in his backyard and has a soft spot for all animals. The violence is plentiful, but there is one scene that stands out for me. An “eye for an eye” doling out that takes the viewer’s breath away. That is when Tony beats to death a deplorable Joe Pantolione for setting fire to a horse racing stable, killing Tony’s favorite horse, “Pie-O-My” which is also the name of the episode.
Tony’s pain in the horse’s suffering when he learns that the poor animal didn’t die outright but had to be put down, was visceral. When Pantolione’s character got what was coming to him, I swear I cheered. That’s a credit to “Joey Pants’” acting, as well because he can go from teddy bear to monster in a New York minute. In most of his characterizations, the ones I’ve seen, he portrays the former, but he is anything but cuddly as “Ralphie” in The Sopranos.
Tony cheats on his wife, Carmella, an incomparable Edie Falco, with a series of “Gumars,” Italian slang for mistresses of married wise guys. She knows about Tony’s transgressions but that’s the tradeoff for having money, and lots of it. In turn, their two kids, Meadow and AJ (for Anthony, Jr.) are spoiled rotten.
As I shared, the violence is frequent and extreme yet is overshadowed by Gandolfini’s achingly vulnerable performance as a man who knows that he can never do, or be, anything other than who he is despite what he’s learned from frequent sessions with his shrink played by Lorraine Bracco who is at the top of her game.
The Sopranos immerses the viewer in a frightening yet seductive world we can only imagine, most of us not being mob bosses or their wives. If I sound like a fan girl, I unabashedly am. The show is a primer for outstanding writing and is must-see TV for anyone thinking of writing for the entertainment industry.
Even though we know what Tony is all about and that his top-level gig in “waste management” is a front for very dark shit, the viewer can’t help but be moved by him. Hell, I find myself frequently rooting for him. In a crazy sense, he’s an “everyman” who isn’t.
I’m mesmerized by what Gandolfini was able to express in the briefest of glances. There was something about his eyes—his expression could morph from one of warmth and kindness to batshit crazy—before we knew what hit us. He was that good and left us far too soon. There is that sense of loss in knowing what we’re seeing onscreen is a wraith, forever preserved by a camera’s lens. Like magic.
To return to The Sopranos is to savor all the bits we missed in the first or second, go-rounds. I honestly can’t remember how many times we’ve watched the series but as it’s been a while, everything seems fresh and Tony Soprano’s plight is as affecting as it ever was.
Jon Hamm’s turn as Madison Avenue advertising creative director, the extraordinarily handsome Don Draper, is another example of a master at work. Set from March 1960 to November 1970, it is also a compelling look at the history of the time, especially for those
of us who were alive way back then. I was eight in 1960 and ten in 1962 when President John F. Kennedy was assassinated. The series touches upon every current event high point, including the pivotal year when the Surgeon General told us fag fiends that cigarettes were “hazardous to our health.” It was January 11th, 1964.
It was a different time, boys and girls. As we see in Mad Men, especially in the free-wheeling ad industry, drinking throughout the day, as in booze, not bottled water, was not only allowed but often encouraged. Creative meetings started with a cocktail and a smoke and normally ended in the same manner.
Like Tony Soprano, Don Draper is somewhat of an anti-hero. He has secrets, Don does. Deep, dark secrets that, if the viewer is vigilant, can be glimpsed in the haunted, dark depths of the Mad Man’s eyes, again, much like Tony’s.
Don is also a womanizer par excellence. Because he rarely gets caught, he is apologetically unfaithful, something he will ultimately have to confront.
As successful as Don is, true happiness eludes him. How can one be happy when no one knows who they truly are? Deception is draining and there’s not a soul around who understands it more fully than Don Draper. Because I don’t want to include spoilers for readers who’ve never seen the show, I won’t share much more other than to say that, you need to watch Mad Men. Like The Sopranos, it was groundbreaking television.
The similarities between Tony Soprano and Don Draper are more than mere coincidence. Matthew Weiner, a renowned writer, producer, and director, was a writer for The Sopranos and Mad Men, which he also created. How I’d love to sit down to dinner with this guy and pick his brain.
The core theme for both shows is identity and how people present themselves differently according to their surroundings and those closest to them. If you watch Mad Men, you’ll understand what Don Draper sacrificed “to be Don Draper.” One might say that Tony Soprano sacrificed his very soul for money and an outdated perception of what it meant to be a “captain” of men.
For me, revisiting these series is a comfort that I gladly immerse myself in, like a warm blanket or a hug from an old friend. For an hour or so, I forget about the shit show we’re currently living in and recall a different time when my dreams burned as brightly as anyone’s ever could and when I still believed that, like Matthew Weiner, I might create an unforgettable world populated by equally unforgettable characters.
Maybe I can revisit those dreams just as I’m revisiting Tony, Don, the Mad Men, and their women, and the Goombahs and their Gumars.
One can hope, yeah?
