Tony Soprano orders a round of delicious onion rings for the family at a diner with red leatherette booths. Meadow isn’t there yet—still struggling to park her car, despite a trillion attempts. It’s supposed to be a nice evening, even for Anthony Junior, whose perpetual depression has him contemplating a future as a «helicopter pilot for Donald Trump.»
Then, in an instant, the screen fades to black. Just a few seconds, but too long to fade to the next scene. Finally, the darkness leads to the end credits. The curtain fell—because everything had been told.
Few series have left such a lasting impact on the TV landscape as The Sopranos. When the show ended in 2007, television had fundamentally changed. No longer confined to the traditional «one episode, one story» format, The Sopranos helped usher in a golden age of serialized drama, where long-form storytelling and complex characters became the new standard.
The Sopranos didn’t just change TV—it made movies look outdated. Two-hour films, once a hallmark of cinematic prestige, suddenly seemed less credible when compared to the depth and scope of the storytelling unfolding weekly on television.
In many ways, The Sopranos transcended the boundaries of the typical TV show. It had more in common with classic narrative cinema, adopting a decelerated, patient pace that mirrored the unfolding of a feature film. Each episode felt like an independent short movie, filled with brilliant cinematography, sound design, and a soundtrack that could elevate any scene.
At the heart of the show was James Gandolfini’s portrayal of Tony Soprano. As a man in the midst of a midlife crisis—balding, overweight, and struggling with his job, family, and identity—Tony was a complex character who embodied the tension between his roles as a ruthless mob boss and a fragile human being. He lived in a lavish mansion in New Jersey, with a beautiful wife, two healthy children, and endless cash.
He sipped espresso in a bathrobe, his hair disheveled, only to shift hours later into a sharp suit, making life-and-death decisions for his «business.» Yet, it was Gandolfini’s vulnerability—his ability to play a gangster boss larger-than-life, while also making Tony feel like a guy-next-door—that set his performance apart from mafia legends like Robert De Niro.
«What distinguishes being ‹cool› in life is a person’s ability to control THEMSELVES….not the mob variant, which is all about controlling other people.» Marcel W on Reddit
The series also paid homage to The Godfather, especially in its early episodes, where the allusions to Coppola’s iconic films were bold and frequent. But over time, The Sopranos moved away from these references, creating a unique identity for itself. It explored the tragedy of a mafia boss driven to see a psychiatrist—a stark contrast to the distant, almost mythical figures depicted in The Godfather. Tony’s internal struggles—his pubescent children, his manipulative mother, and his own mental health—became the driving forces of the narrative.
The Sopranos is the ultimate exploration of masculinity, power, and emotional fragility. If Tony didn’t get what he wanted, he became a petulant child, using his position of power to enforce his will with devastating consequences. This makes him terrifyingly unpredictable—and undeniably dangerous.
The opening sequence of The Sopranos perfectly sets the tone. Tony sits in a waiting room, skeptical and withdrawn, staring at a statue. The camera frames him through the legs of the sculpture, a visual metaphor for his disconnection from his own life. He’s a man who runs a waste management business, not accustomed to speaking openly about his problems. But for years, he does exactly that, revealing everything from violent impulses to the mundane details of family life.
Tony’s second «family,» the mafia, must never learn of his therapy sessions. The juxtaposition of his two worlds—his criminal empire and his vulnerable, questioning self—creates a central paradox in the show: How can a man who is emotionally broken run an entire mafia family? Tony sits on Dr. Melfi’s couch a staggering eighty-six times over the course of the series, unraveling in front of her and, by extension, the audience.
It’s the rich, multifaceted characters that make The Sopranos a masterpiece. From Edie Falco’s complex portrayal of Carmela, Tony’s wife, to Lorraine Bracco’s Dr. Melfi, to the iconic mobsters like Tony’s uncle Junior (Dominic Chianese) and nephew Chris (Michael Imperioli), the cast is impeccably chosen and deeply developed. Every supporting role is thoughtfully cast, contributing to the show’s literary sophistication.
Corrado «Junior» Soprano, remains an old-school mobster whose pride and stubbornness eventually lead to his downfall. Christopher is loyal to Tony but struggles with his own ambition, drug addiction, and temper. He starts as a rising star within the family but becomes consumed by his vices, creating a tragic arc that plays out over the course of the series.
Then there’s Livia Soprano, Tony’s mother—arguably the most influential and destructive figure in his life. Nancy Marchand’s portrayal of Livia as manipulative, self-serving, and cruel is nothing short of brilliant. For Tony, she’s both a source of deep emotional pain and the central figure in his inability to break free from his past.
The mobsters in The Sopranos, played by actors of Italian descent, come across as incredibly authentic. Their behavior, while sometimes exaggerated, resonates with a very specific brand of Italian-American culture. Despite the show’s dark, violent themes, there’s a strange likability to them. Their loyalty to family, their love of food and drink, and their sometimes ridiculous behavior make them feel real.
Instead of glorifying heroes, The Sopranos gives us flawed, broken men. They’re depressed, addicted to drugs, alcohol, and the trappings of power. They’re just as likely to lash out in anger as they are to express tenderness, creating an unpredictable and morally complex landscape.
Death and decay are constants in The Sopranos. Those who don’t die find themselves wasting away. Tony grapples with his own aging process, lamenting the loss of his vitality and power. AJ, his son, struggles with depression and a sense of purposelessness. Uncle Junior, ravaged by Alzheimer’s, can no longer remember who he is when Tony tries to make peace with him in the old people’s home.
Cancer serves as a powerful symbol of life’s fragility and the inevitability of mortality, even for those who seem untouchable. Throughout the series, several key characters—including Jackie Aprile Sr., Junior Soprano, Johnny Sack, Bobby Baccalieri Sr., and Paulie Gualtieri—grapple with cancer diagnoses. This disease acts as a great equalizer, affecting characters regardless of their status or power within the criminal hierarchy.
The Sopranos masterfully delves into the themes of greed and cruelty through its intricate characters, with Tony Soprano at the forefront.
The show vividly portrays greed as a powerful force, not only within the criminal underworld but also in legitimate business, blurring the lines between the two worlds. Tony’s tendency to «bust out» businesses becomes a central metaphor for unchecked capitalist greed, echoing real-world financial practices that prioritize short-term profits over long-term stability.
Ultimately, The Sopranos offers a scathing critique of a society that elevates sociopathic selfishness, with Tony’s internal struggles serving as a powerful metaphor for the broader spiritual crisis afflicting American culture.
Over the past few weeks, I have watched the entire Sopranos a second, and some episodes even a third time. A worthwhile but also disheartening investment of time.
My list of the best episodes in chronological order.
College (1×5)

«I’m in the waste management business. Everybody immediately assumes you’re mobbed up. It’s a stereotype. And it’s offensive.» Tony Soprano
«I still believe he can be a good man.»—Of course, Carmela.
In this pivotal episode of The Sopranos, Tony takes his daughter Meadow on a college tour in Maine, which becomes a profound exploration of honesty and family dynamics. During their trip, Meadow directly confronts Tony about his involvement in the Mafia, asking him point-blank if he is a mobster. Initially defensive, Tony eventually admits that some of his income comes from illegal gambling. Even this half-hearted attempt is watered down further as the episode progresses. Meadow, perceptive yet unsure, struggles with how to respond when Tony asks her, «How does that make you feel?» She has long wished her father were more like other dads.
While touring colleges, Tony unexpectedly spots Fabian «Febby» Petrulio, a former mafia associate who entered witness protection. Tony decides to hunt down and kill Febby, viewing his betrayal as unforgivable. After confirming his identity, Tony brutally garrotes him with a cable while Meadow is at a college interview. A scene that gets under your skin. This marks the first murder Tony commits in the series, vividly demonstrating the brutal reality of his criminal life. At this point, it’s clear that Tony can shift from a devoted family man to an ice-cold killer in an instant. Even monsters love their children.
Meanwhile, back in New Jersey, Carmela embarks on her own emotional journey. While sick with the flu, she receives an uncomfortable visit from Father Phil, during which their conversation grows increasingly intimate. Over wine, they share a confession session—Carmela’s first «real» confession in twenty years—during which she admits her complicity in Tony’s «business.» As the moment teeters on the brink of a kiss, Father Phil pulls away, leaving the tension unresolved. Carmela also learns that Tony’s therapist, Dr. Melfi, is a woman, which triggers suspicions of a potential affair.
The episode is thematically centered on honesty, with both Tony and Meadow revealing partial truths to each other. When Meadow notices the mud on Tony’s shoes and the cut on his hand after Febby’s murder, she recognizes that their relationship is built on deception.
I Dream of Jeannie Cusamano (1×13)

«This whole war could have been averted. Cunnilingus and psychiatry brought us to this.» Tony Soprano
«I wanna fuck Angie Dickinson, see who gets lucky first.» Junior, always a Gentleman.
I Dream of Jeannie Cusamano is the season finale of The Sopranos‘ first season, wrapping up several storylines with intense and dramatic developments.
Tony Soprano confirms his suspicions that Jimmy Altieri is an FBI informant. As a result, Christopher lures Jimmy into a trap where Silvio executes him, leaving his body in an alley with a dead rat in his mouth as a message.
Dr. Melfi abandons her usual therapeutic approach because she believes Tony’s life is in danger and suggests that his mother, Livia, might have borderline personality disorder. Tony reacts to her overt warnings like the manipulated monster he has become thanks to his upbringing by Livia and angrily threatens Melfi. The terror that runs through Melfi as he towers over her and threatens to tear her to pieces is almost physically palpable.
In order to draw the right conclusions, he needs some strong evidence. The FBI brings Tony to a safehouse where Agent Cubitoso plays audio recordings from a bug in Livia’s room at Green Grove. These recordings confirm that Uncle Junior, encouraged by Livia, was behind an assassination attempt on Tony.
Tony tried to exact revenge on his mother, but his plan was foiled when she suffered from a pseudo-stroke, which was said to be induced by repressed rage. Tony originally planned to suffocate Livia with a pillow, but, upon hearing about her stroke, abandoned the idea, and publicly threatened to kill her, while she was apparently smiling.
Tony informs his crew about seeing a psychiatrist. While Silvio and Paulie accept this, Christopher struggles with the revelation.
In retaliation against Junior’s crew, Tony and his men kill Mikey Palmice and Chucky Signore. However, the FBI then arrests Junior and his crew for a stock fraud scam, leaving Tony unindicted.
Livia told Artie Bucco that Tony was responsible for burning down his original restaurant, Vesuvio. This revelation occurred while Livia was in the hospital, and it prompted Artie to confront Tony with a hunting rifle in the parking lot of Satriale’s.
The Knight in White Satin Armor (2×12)

«We buried him. On a hill. Overlooking a little river. With pine cones all around.» Tony Soprano
Richie Aprile was arguably one of the most terrifying characters on The Sopranos.
With his cold, menacing «1,000-yard stare,» Richie had the unsettling ability to make even the toughest criminals feel uneasy. His mere presence exuded tension, and he was always on the brink of violent outbursts, ready to explode at the slightest provocation.
Known for his extreme and disproportionate reactions, Richie’s violence was often unpredictable. He brutally attacked Beansie Gaeta, leaving him paralyzed for life, over a minor slight. Richie’s ruthless nature made him a constant threat, not just to his enemies but to his own associates and family.
Fresh out of prison, Richie struggled to adapt to the changing world of organized crime. Clinging to old-school methods that were often excessively violent, he became an increasingly dangerous presence. Richie’s loyalty was only to himself, making him a constant threat to everyone around him, including those he should have trusted most.
Richie’s ambition to challenge Tony Soprano becomes evident as he attempts to orchestrate a plot against him, seeking support from other crews and even Uncle Junior. But when Richie fails to gain traction, Junior rethinks his position and informs Tony about the plot. Tony, ever calculating, begins planning how to deal with Richie, but in a shocking turn of events, it’s Tony’s sister, Janice, who takes matters into her own hands.
The couple’s first major argument exposes the dark undercurrent of Richie’s misogyny. When he expresses disgust at the idea of his son being gay, Janice contradicts him, which prompts Richie to violently punch her in the mouth. Richie, a man who sees women as nothing more than objects to control, doesn’t hesitate to strike when he feels challenged.
But Janice is not one to back down. Enraged, she leaves the room only to return with a gun and shoots him dead. Panic-stricken, Janice calls Tony for help, and Christopher and Furio are dispatched to dispose of Richie’s body; they dismember it at Satriale’s.
The episode also delves into Pussy’s increasingly conflicted loyalties as an FBI informant.
Funhouse (2×13)

«Why are you making me do this, you fat, fucking, miserable piece of shit?» Tony Soprano
Tony is struck by severe food poisoning, leading to a series of vivid, feverish dreams that blur the line between reality and paranoia. In one particularly unsettling dream, Tony experiences a sexual encounter with Dr. Melfi, followed by a bizarre scene in which a talking fish—its voice eerily resembling Pussy’s—warns him, «You know I’ve been working with the government, right Tone?» The fish, a symbol of Pussy’s betrayal, foreshadows the painful revelation of his disloyalty. It serves as a haunting parallel to the goldfish in Better Call Saul, which represents Jimmy’s moral conscience, hinting at the internal conflict and fractured trust at play.
As Tony’s feverish state begins to lift, he uncovers undeniable evidence that Salvatore «Big Pussy» Bonpensiero has been informing to the FBI. The shock of this discovery hits hard, as Pussy (Vincent Pastore) has been one of Tony’s most loyal soldiers since the very beginning of the series. Together with Silvio and Paulie, Tony arranges a boat trip for Pussy, a final, fateful excursion. Four men leave the dock, but only three return. The execution of Big Pussy marks a pivotal turning point in The Sopranos, highlighting Tony’s ruthlessness and the brutal consequences of betrayal in the world they inhabit.
The stark contrast between this violent act and the seemingly normal proceedings of Meadow’s graduation party underscores the tragic duality of Tony’s life. While the Soprano family celebrates a significant milestone, the dark undercurrents of betrayal, violence, and loyalty continue to shape their lives, casting a long shadow over their personal victories.
University (3×6)

«I think we need to talk. I think that maybe we’ve been seeing too much of each other… Look, honestly, you’re too negative. It’s like you have this underlying cynicism about everything.» Noah to Meadow
In this episode, the brutal reality of mobster life is laid bare, with a tale of misogyny that expose the darker undercurrents of power and violence.
Tracee, a 20-year-old stripper at the Bada Bing, is in a tumultuous relationship with Ralph Cifaretto, a volatile, coked-up bully. Pregnant with Ralph’s child, Tracee seeks advice from Tony Soprano. After missing work for three days, Silvio is sent to forcibly bring her back. Tensions escalate when Tracee insults Ralph in front of the other mobsters, and in a violent outburst, Ralph brutally beats her to death in the parking lot. Tony, enraged by Ralph’s actions, confronts him, physically assaulting him despite Ralph being a made man.
Ralph Cifaretto is a perfect villain for The Sopranos—selfish, impulsive, and violently indifferent to the suffering of others. This episode underscores just how dangerous he is, with the savage beating of Tracee serving as a chilling reminder of his complete lack of empathy. The scene is not just disturbing; it’s deeply unsettling, illustrating the profound ugliness of Ralphie’s character. While Ralphie had already begun to wear on the nerves of those around him—and fans of the show—this moment solidifies his irredeemability.
Tony’s relationship with Ralph is complicated. Despite his repulsion at Ralph’s behavior, Tony tolerates him because of his ability to generate money for the family. But even Tony, whose life is steeped in violence and moral ambiguity, is deeply shaken by the senseless brutality of Ralph’s actions. Tracee’s murder, particularly given her youth and the fact that she’s roughly the same age as Tony’s daughter Meadow, hits too close to home, pushing Tony to a breaking point.
Pine Barrens (3×11)

«He killed 16 Chechen rebels. Guy was an interior decorator!» Paulie Gualtieri
In this darkly comedic masterpiece, Christopher and Paulie are tasked with collecting a debt from Valery, a Russian associate. When a confrontation escalates into violence, they believe they’ve killed him. They decide to dispose of the body in the Pine Barrens of South Jersey. However, upon arriving, they discover that Valery is still alive.
Valery manages to escape into the woods, and Christopher and Paulie, now trapped in a snowy, desolate forest, give chase. Ill-prepared for the harsh conditions and increasingly desperate, their pursuit quickly descends into chaos. What starts as a shared grudge against the unruly Russian turns into a struggle for survival, unraveling their bond. The isolation and cold fuel a growing mistrust, and the once-solid family ties dissolve into animosity. In an instant, the noble mafia values they hold dear—honor, loyalty, and respect—mean nothing.
Eventually, Tony and Bobby arrive to rescue the two, but not before the ordeal forces Christopher and Paulie to confront the absurdity of their situation.
In «Pine Barrens», Steve Buscemi brilliantly showcases his comedic chops behind the camera. No other episode captures The Sopranos’ trademark black humor as effectively. The show effortlessly blends comedy with its dramatic narrative, creating a groundbreaking approach to television storytelling. The humor emerges organically from the characters’ behaviors and personalities, never feeling forced. It often highlights the ridiculousness of the characters and their increasingly absurd predicaments, adding a layer of dark, biting wit to the series’ exploration of violence, loyalty, and survival.
Amour Fou (3×12)

«It’s over. Capice? Over and done. You call, or go anywhere near him or his family and they’ll be scraping your nipples off these fine leather seats. And here’s the point to remember: my face is the last one you’ll see, not Tony’s…we understand each other? It won’t be cinematic.» Patsy Parisi
Tony’s affair with Gloria Trillo deepens, but her behavior becomes increasingly unstable and demanding. Gloria’s obsession escalates to the point where she meets Carmela in person at the dealership, giving her a ride home and subtly gathering information. When Tony discovers this, he is furious and ends the relationship. In retaliation, Gloria threatens to expose their affair to Tony’s family. To prevent this, Tony sends Patsy Parisi to deliver a menacing warning, instructing Gloria to stay away from his family.
Dr. Melfi uses the term «Amour Fou» to describe the tumultuous nature of Tony and Gloria’s relationship, capturing its intense, irrational qualities. The phrase encapsulates Gloria’s self-destructive attraction to Tony, likening it to a moth drawn to a flame. «Amour Fou» also subtly reflects the toxic, cyclical relationship between Tony and his mother, Livia. Tony eventually has a breakthrough, realizing, «I’ve known you my whole fuckin’ life,» recognizing that Gloria is, in many ways, a mirror image of his mother’s destructive traits. In a moment of comic relief, Tony hilariously mispronounces the French phrase as «our mofo,» adding a touch of humor to the tension.
Tony’s fraught relationship with his mother, Livia, remains a central element of the series and a significant influence on his psyche. Tragically, Nancy Marchand, the actress who portrayed Livia, passed away during the show’s production, forcing a shift in the storyline. Nevertheless, Livia’s shadow continues to loom over Tony for the remainder of The Sopranos, a testament to how deeply her influence shaped him—and the show.
Whoever Did This (4×9)

«Whoever did this, it should have happened a long time ago.» Tony Soprano referring to Ralph’s death
Ralph’s son, Justin, is seriously injured in an accident and falls into a coma. Meanwhile, a fire at the stables badly burns Tony’s beloved horse, Pie-O-My, forcing it to be put down. Tony begins to suspect that Ralph set the fire for insurance money and confronts him about it.
What follows is one of the most brutal confrontations in The Sopranos. In a chaotic, rage-fueled brawl, the two men clash violently in a spacious kitchen, using whatever kitchen utensils they can find as weapons. The fight escalates to an uncontrollable fury, culminating in Tony brutally beating Ralph to death in a moment of pure, unrestrained rage.
After the murder, Tony calls Christopher to help dispose of Ralph’s body. Despite being high on heroin, Christopher assists Tony in dismembering the corpse. Together, they clean up the grisly aftermath, underscoring the chillingly casual nature of their actions. They bury Ralph’s head, hands, and toupee on a farm, while the rest of his remains are discarded in a quarry.
This episode starkly reinforces the series’ central theme: violence begets violence. Ralphie’s murder of a stripper and Pie-O-My sets off a chain of brutal retribution. Tony, in turn, kills Ralphie, sealing his fate as a merciless enforcer in the mafia world.
Tony’s brutal nature is on full display, especially when he strangles Ralphie with his bare hands, a physical manifestation of his primal rage over Pie-O-My’s death and the mounting list of Ralphie’s terrible actions. This moment exemplifies Tony’s capacity for savage violence, which not only serves as a reflection of his character but also propels the show’s exploration of moral decay.
Additionally, this episode marks the beginning of Junior’s battle with Alzheimer’s disease, a storyline that would become a central focus for the series, further complicating the already fractured world Tony and his family inhabit.
Long Term Parking (5×12)

«We’re in a fuckin’ stagmire,» spoken, inimitably, by Little Carmine.
Season 5 of The Sopranos marked a shift in the series’ narrative, as the show began to push boundaries and experiment more boldly. By this point, the innocence of the viewer had been irrevocably shattered, and the show no longer held back.
Long Term Parking is one of the most gut-punching, all-around hard-hitting episodes in the series, masterfully weaving together multiple storylines as they reach their devastating climaxes.
First, Tony faces a massive problem with his childhood cousin, Tony B. (Steve Buscemi). The New York Lupertazzi family, now led by Johnny Sack (Vincent Curatola), is seeking revenge for an old conflict involving Tony B. Phil Leotardo (Frank Vincent) is poised to make Tony B. suffer unless Tony can intervene first—an act that sets the stage for the explosive events of the season finale.
Meanwhile, the FBI catches Adriana (Drea de Matteo) disposing of evidence from a murder at her club. Adriana’s tragic arc has been one of the most heartbreaking and devastating in the series. A genuinely good person trapped in a bad relationship with a violent mobster, Adriana finds herself caught between her loyalty to Christopher and the pressures of the FBI, who force her into becoming an informant. The slow, agonizing unraveling of her character over two seasons was one of the most torturous narratives the show ever explored.
Despite the inevitability of Adriana’s tragic end, the manner in which it unfolds feels unpredictable, a testament to the show’s deft handling of suspense. Threatened with imprisonment, Adriana is pressured to either wear a wire or convince Christopher to turn informant. She confesses her involvement to him, and although Christopher initially reacts violently, he eventually agrees to run away with her.
But in a cruel twist, Tony calls Adriana, telling her that Christopher has attempted suicide, and arranges for Silvio to pick her up. Silvio drives Adriana to a remote wooded area and kills her off-screen. The slow, chilling transition from familiar surroundings to increasingly isolated, wooded terrain is horrifying, as is the sight of Adriana trying to crawl away from Silvio, desperately trying to escape her fate.
While Adriana was not entirely innocent—having knowingly been involved with a violent mobster—her death feels particularly tragic. She is just another pawn in the crossfire between the FBI and Tony Soprano, and the cruelty of her fate is undeniable.
Christopher, struggling with his grief and guilt, disposes of Adriana’s belongings in a river and leaves her car in long-term parking at Newark Airport. Unable to cope with the loss, he turns to heroin once again.
As Adriana’s inevitable demise looms, Tony, ever the hypocrite, preaches the sanctity of loyalty to his crew. His final words to her over the phone, while setting up the ruse of the hospital visit, are haunting: «I’ll see you up there.» In retrospect, these words take on an eerie significance, especially if viewers interpret them as foreshadowing Tony’s own eventual death—a chilling parallel to Adriana’s tragic end.
Kennedy and Heidi (6×18)

«Anyway, he is gone now, our Chrissy. Crazy fuckin’ maniac.» Silvio’s deadpan comment
Tony and Christopher are involved in a car accident when Christopher’s truck drifts into oncoming traffic. While Tony escapes with only minor injuries, Christopher is seriously hurt. After the crash, Christopher admits he wouldn’t pass a drug test. Initially, Tony calls for emergency help, but something shifts in him. In a chilling moment of decision, he decides not to save Christopher. Instead, he pinches his nose shut, suffocating him as Christopher chokes on his own blood.
Tony has taken lives before—sometimes without a second thought. But Christopher’s death is different. It’s personal. In a twist that speaks to the emptiness of Tony’s emotional landscape, he pretends to mourn Christopher’s death, putting on an act for others. But beneath the surface, he feels a sense of relief, freed from the burden of dealing with his troublesome cousin, whose spiraling addiction and reckless behavior had become an increasing liability.
Feeling a need to escape and process his emotions, Tony heads to Las Vegas. There, he visits Sonya, Christopher’s stripper friend, to inform her of his death. In a moment of surreal introspection, Tony experiments with peyote, leading to a psychedelic experience that causes him to confront his own psyche. The episode culminates in a stunning moment of clarity as Tony shouts, «I get it!» while watching the sunrise over Red Rock Canyon, symbolizing a brief moment of transcendence and understanding, though it remains unclear what exactly he’s come to understand.
Meanwhile, AJ’s depression resurfaces as he gets involved with a new group of college friends who share a mob-like mentality, heightening the tension within the Soprano family. In New Jersey, the longstanding tensions between the New York and New Jersey factions of the mob come to a head over a contentious asbestos-disposal issue.
Amidst these tensions, Paulie receives the news of his mother Nucci’s death, which stirs up deep feelings of insecurity and jealousy. At Christopher’s funeral, Paulie can’t help but feel overshadowed when more people attend Christopher’s memorial than his own mother’s, a small but poignant detail that highlights Paulie’s lifelong struggles with his sense of worth and importance.
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