Judging from some of the posts in the forums, as well as some of the more, um, "exuberant" emails I've received this week, there's a significant percentage of you out there who'd probably prefer it if I quit babbling about all this Sopranos crap and just got straight to the hockey talk. Or the New Jersey bashing. Or the bashing of the New Jersey hockey teams (and despite their dominance, the Devils do suck). Out of respect for my three loyal fans (and also the two-hundred-and-forty-seven-page legally binding employment contract Sars made me sign -- said contract featuring frequent and vehement usage of such heart-warming turns of phrase as "punitive damages," "breach of contract," and "summarily executed"), I won't quite do that, but I will say this: Randy McKay is the only man I know who could make Dawson Leery's hair look normal. Seriously. Somebody needs to tell that guy that John "Not Katie" Holmes called and asked for his facial hair back. Okay, sorry. That's the last hockey talk you'll hear from me, I promise.
Jaromir Jagr: Hey, you know what would make this show better?
David Chase: Mario Lemieux?
Jaromir Jagr: Heh. I can't argue with that. Except, no. See, I was thinking maybe like this kick-ass opening narration -- you know, some James Earl Jones shit or something? All the cool shows have one.
David Chase: Actually, there's not as many as you'd think.
Jaromir Jagr: "In a world gone mad, only he can control a family of mafia Devils who are terrorizing the New Jersey hinterlands. His name is Tony. He wears a robe. He is…The Soprano." Whaddya think?
David Chase: I don't know…
Jaromir Jagr: Don't worry, it sounds much cooler in Czechoslovakian.
David Chase: Umm, okay. Whatever. Just don’t let Paulie hear you say that.
Fade up this week on a beautifully conceived shot that starts as a close-up on Carmela's sapphire ring before pulling all the way back to reveal her crossing through a room full of dark marble statues, with Cecilia Bartoli's cat crooning all the while on the soundtrack. She (Carmela, not Cecilia Bartoli's cat) and Meadow are at the Museum of Art, and Carmela surreptitiously asks her daughter if she can borrow a tampon, and also if she's ever had that "not so fresh" feeling. There's some more discussion of feminine issues, in regards to which I will simply plead a manful (read: willful, and also grateful) ignorance. Later, the two are gazing at a portrait of some random woman, whom Meadow describes as being "just the wife of some rich merchant." Carmela doesn't care (or get the analogy to her and Tony), and just likes the idea of having her portrait in a museum. The conversation turns to Meadow's grades, and Carmela gently ribs her about spending a little less time with Little Lord Fuckpants and a little more with Little Lord Fauntleroy and the rest of her books. "Please. That is so over," snots Meadow as she stalks off, and Carmela's eyes light up with surprise. Mine did too, but that's just because Fauntleroy was actually a pretty good book. As they move to the room, Carmela is suddenly transfixed by a painting of two women holding a baby. She stares at it, even starting to sniffle a bit, until Meadow comes over to ask what's wrong. The painting is identified as The Mystical Marriage of St. Catherine, but it's the baby that seems to have captured Carmela's attention. "She's marrying a baby? Good luck," snarks Meadow, but Carmela just sobs and wistfully replies, "We all do." She immediately follows that by apologizing and saying she "shouldn't be sarcastic," but I think we can all agree that was pretty funny. Carmela remains fascinated by the "innocent" little baby, and Meadow just eyes her with concern.
You know, you'd think that given the austere elegance (tm Wing Chun) of Melfi's office, her building would at least be able to hire a security guard for their parking garage. I'm frankly amazed that we haven't seen George Costanza in there taking a leak. Anyway, Tony pulls in and parks, but before he can make it to the stairwell, he's accosted by a repentant Gloria. She begs him to listen, and explains that she hates the thought of throwing something so special away after just one argument. "One argument? You threw a fucking dinner at my head," replies Tony. Hmm. He must not eat much of a balanced diet, because I only remember seeing her throw the meat. Tony makes a veiled threat that's also vaguely sexist, which leads Gloria to break down and confess that she's been having a rough time of it lately due to "shit with her family and other crap." She's a real silver-tongued devil, ain't she? Tony wants to know why she couldn't come to him with her problems, and given where they're standing, how's that for a meta-commentary on the whole "Will Tony ever find out about Melfi's rape?" subplot. Anyway, Gloria seems to have finally charmed Tony into forgiving her, and there's much girlish giggling as he heads off to his appointment.
Which we now join, already in progress. Tony is describing his relationship with Gloria as being "like leather and lace…a burning ring of fire." It's worth mentioning that they cut to Melfi, dressed, yes, all in black, on that last part. She sums up his feelings as: "Amour fou, as the French call it. Crazy love. All consuming." This week's StTM (Start-to-Title-Mention) = 261. I'll use that to determine the plus/minus component of the grade. For comparison purposes, that's not quite as good as "Another Toothpick," but it is surprisingly superior to both "Employee of the Month" and "Proshai, Livushka." I'll reveal the final grade when we hit the robe scene later on. You know, in case you didn't see it back there on page one. I guess I'm still getting used to the new layout and all. I do love the design (especially our little fish logo. Hee!), but I'm still having some trouble making the orange adjustment. Maybe I should see a shrink about that. Speaking of which, Melfi points out that not many people can push Tony's buttons like Gloria does, and the big guy suddenly gets defensive. "I know you think I'm like a hard, cold captain-of-industry-type," he asserts, "but that's not all there is." He seeks her professional opinion of Gloria, asking "Is she a full-blown loop-de-loo, or what?" Heh. Dr. Melfi refuses to discuss another patient, and oh by the way, she also refuses to accept any money from Tony this month, because he overpaid her a few episodes back. When she brings the topic back to Gloria, Tony sighs, "She never wants any money either." Despite last week's episode-ending breakthrough, Melfi fails to point out that perhaps Tony gets his compulsive need to buy people's love from Livia as well. In fact, Tony claims to like the fact that Gloria is "independent-minded." "Independent-minded," of course, also means "doesn't call my house drunk all the time like Irina." Tony expands on that last point by explaining that Gloria has "made her own way in the world," and that she "knows a lot about a lot of shit. Buddhism, and the movies." Heh. I knew I liked Gloria for a reason. I'm exactly the same way. See, whenever I find myself stuck, I always know I can just fall back on a good hockey or movie reference to get the crowd back on my side (Scott Niedermeyer? Dead!). And there's also always alliteration. Oh, and don't forget the Rule of Threes. Anyway, Tony continues to enthuse about Gloria and her "dark, black eyes," eventually comparing her to "a Spanish princess in one of those paintings. You know, a goyim." Bwa ha ha ha ha! That's probably funnier for me than a lot of the rest of you, as it was one of my grandmother's favorite words, but still, ha! Yiddish puns will always get me back on your side. Tony silently pictures Gloria for a moment, and then he and Melfi share the following repartee:
Tony: Those eyes are deep.
Jennifer: Complicated.
Tony: I said deep. You said complicated.
Jennifer: You said dark.
After Foreshadowing stops by to point out a missing HTML tag in my transcription of that exchange, Tony gets angry, yelling at Melfi for always getting "a weird puss on her face" whenever he mentions Gloria. It's "like you don't like it," he says, "our mo-fo, or whatever you call our relationship." I'll give that one an extra ten StTM points for re-mentioning the title, and then fifty more just for being funny. Now Melfi asks what he thinks Gloria sees in him, and Tony believes that she's attracted to him because "like [he] said, [he's] a captain-of-industry type." Melfi goes on to compare Gloria to a moth seeking a flame, and Tony finally gets what she's talking about. "She's complicated," he laments. "I said complicated. You said dark," replies a smiling Melfi, thus bringing to a close this epic epiphany of a scene (and it's page-long paragraph of a recap).
At the Aprile Crew club, Jackie and a sidekick who's too stupid to merit me busting out the old tapes to identify him are paying off Joey Pants. Since they're "kicking up," Sidekick Boy feels they deserve Joey's protection. Joey plants the seeds for the season-ending story line by pointing out that getting protection will require the boys to "show a little initiative." The Little Lord rolls his little eyes, and Joey starts in with the teasing. "Now that you're moving back home," he says, "are you gonna be humping Tony Soprano's girl on the couch?" For some reason (most likely Fametracker), I'm reminded of Pee-Wee Herman's skunk-humping scene in Mystery Men. Jackie doesn't want to talk about Meadow, or Tony for that matter. He's upset that Tony didn't reach out to someone at Rutgers to keep him in school. "He should break the dean's legs just because you don't want to read a book?" asks Joey, and I think Tony should break the dean's legs because Big Pussy's phone company commercial (featuring this precise premise) was so damn stupid. Besides, Dean Wormer? Dead! Joey sends the boys away, but does encourage them to "keep coming back."
Cut to the Sarah Scandinavia (or perhaps the Tara Tajikistan), where Tony and Gloria are lying in bed. He's got his post-coital cigar, she's wearing the sexiest lingerie I've seen since G-String Divas occupied the Sunday-night time-slot. Tony tells a story about some Moroccan guy he once knew, which ends up being a joke that bears the punch line: "I never forget a fez." Mine aren't that bad, are they? Don't answer that. ["(cough)" -- Sars] Gloria's cell phone rings, and she dives over Tony to grab it, looking sad when it turns out to be a wrong number. Tony asks if it's related to her family problems, and Gloria glumly relates that her sister won't allow her to visit her niece and nephew at Christmas anymore. Tony seems to be listening, but also talks at cross-purposes, complaining about the quality of Bobby Bacala's Santa at this year's party. Gloria goes on and on with a long series of complaints about the sister and her husband, and doesn't everybody just hate that one co-worker that always seems to feel the need to tell you these long, boring, hideously awful personal stories about how messed up their family is, despite the fact that it's way too much information and you obviously don't care in the least? Or maybe that's just me. Or more accurately, the girl in the cubicle. Anyway, Gloria's rant continues with some PC semiotics relating to calling the pageant the "Winter Festival," and "Christmas" as the "C-word," and I guess that's the writer's way of apologizing for the "goyim" crack earlier. The niece and nephew are somewhat improbably named Hannah and Seamus, by the way. "What does Seamus say about [all this]?" asks Tony, and Gloria snaps back, "He's ten. What the fuck does he know?" Heh. Gloria slowly gets up and starts to get dressed, muttering that "maybe we'll all get lucky. With the way these trucks go by out here, maybe I'll get plastered against a grille." I'd say that one was definitely more dark than deep. Then she starts bitching about work and her sexually-harassing boss, but Tony tunes out and starts checking his watch. When a song that still isn't Tom Petty no matter how many times I listen to it comes on the radio, Gloria cranks the volume and starts dancing. Tony and his cigar that's still never in the same place no matter how many shots they use watch admiringly. She climbs onto the bed and throws a leg over (tm Sars) Tony, and they laugh and kiss as the scene comes to a close. Gandolfini and Sciorra certainly seem pretty comfortable with one another.
Jaromir Jagr: Man, I wouldn't mind giving that Gloria chick a hip Czech, if you know what I mean, and I think you do.
David Chase: Are you sure you'd be interested in someone with so many obvious emotional problems?
Jaromir Jagr: You're not a big hockey fan, are you?
The Pizza Parlor. Three Hispanic guys are camped out at the front table, laughing and smoking. When the owner asks them to take it outside, they refuse, thus prompting Jackie Jr. and his sidekick to intervene. This quickly degenerates into a brawl that leaves a number of decorative bottles broken, and then the Little Lord pulls a gun and orders them out of the place. As they run out, we see Christopher walking up, and Jackie quickly moves to hide the gun. Chris enters, and "Walk Like An Egyptian" starts up on the soundtrack. Jackie explains that they had to chase off some [racial slur deleted] who were hassling Roy the owner. Roy, who looks and sounds more and more like Mel from Alice with every episode, sadly sweeps up the remains of his bottles. "I've been collecting these for twenty years," he says, shaking his head. "What the fuck? It's only glass, right?" That is so not what my mom said when I broke the glass door, but that's okay. Christopher joins Jackie Jr. and The Sidekick at the table, and I decide to bow to the masses and henceforth christen the boy Little Lord Fuckpants The Poo Ass, although I personally prefer Little Lord "The Poo Ass" Fuckpants. It just sorta rolls right off your tongue. Eww. Not like that. You people are sick. Anyway, Chris offers them some work hijacking a cigarette truck, but LL"TPA"FP claims they're working for Joey Pants now. Chris reminds them that if they ever "want to jump ship, [they] know [his] number." He then stands to leave with a dramatic flourish, and Jackie and TSTSNBN (The Sidekick That Shall Not Be Named) look quite impressed with his manliness. Eww. Not like that.
Cut to what I first assumed was a doctor's office, because Carmela is seated in front of a long wall of those color-coded folders doctors always seem to have. But then Gloria shows up in the background asking for the "paperwork on a pre-owned C-5," and I realize we're at the Mercedes dealership. I don't know if anybody saw it, but USA Today had a great article about product-placement on The Sopranos this week. Apparently, Mercedes and Cadillac don't actually pay for the privilege of being featured, but do provide free cars for use on the show. They also don't seem to have any sort of script approval, with the mandatory Cadillac spokesman making the de rigueur joke about learning that a DeVille's trunk is big enough to hold a body. While Gloria waits for her documents, the bastard love child of Foreshadowing and Contrivance (no doubt the result of a drunken coupling after the season finale of pretty much any show left on the WB) enters and calls for a Mrs. Soprano, which certainly pricks up Gloria's ears. Connie Jr. (a.k.a. Little Lord Forepants) tells Carmela that the courtesy van won't be ready for another twenty minutes, and Gloria instantly offers to give her a lift. Cut to the two ladies in the car, with Carmela telling Gloria that "this is very sweet of [her]." "Don't believe it," replies meta-Gloria, before going on to amend that with "Everyone's a potential sale." They make small talk, and Carmela is sitting with her hand held at just the right angle to put her ring into the shot. She's also wiggling her fingers and squirming a bit to try to direct Gloria's attention to it, and I'm finding it extremely distracting. Gloria asks if Carmela is married, and is told that she in fact is, with two kids to boot. "You?" asks Carmela, and Gloria sourly replies, "No. To both." Carmela describes the kids, and then tries to cut the awkward silence by babbling about Meadow and her college experience. Gloria makes a joke about the "[Columbia] School of Broadcasting," and Carmela is virtually horrified to think that Gloria's never heard of the Ivy League. Gloria tells her tartly that she's kidding. There's a quick cut to an exterior shot of the car, and when we get back inside, Subtle Sciorra has been replaced by Strident Sciorra. Gloria floors the accelerator (causing Carmela to grip the door with alarm) and then offers that Meadow probably won't have to "latch onto to a man to be successful." She finally deigns to notice the ring (which, for those who haven't seen it, occupies about a third of Carm's hand), and strikes again by asking, "So what does your husband do?" Carmela pretty much describes Tony as a captain of industry, and then admits that Meadow calls them "bourgeois." Uh, okay, whatever. Just don’t let Gorb-o hear you say that. Eventually, they arrive at Das Sopranohaus, and we get a Bizarro-world version of the end of the credits as Carmela climbs out of Gloria's car.
Aprile Abode. Little Lord "The Poo Ass" Fuckpants and TFTSNBN (or The Friend That Shall Not Be Named, as he's alternately known) are enjoying some macaroni and gravy. They praise Christopher's willingness to stand up to Tony, and Joey Pants wanders in and joins the conversation. While he futzes about fetching this week's featured products, he explains that Christopher's rise to the top reminds him of what happened with Tony and Jackie's dad lo those many years ago. He grabs a seat at the table and proceeds to reminisce about the days when he, Tony, The Late Lord Fuckpants, and Silvio had their own little crew, and thought of themselves as "the sixth family." Joey tells the story of how Tony and Jackie Sr. robbed a connected card game, and managed to impress the higher-ups with their initiative. He's not making the story up, because it was mentioned last season, but remember all this later on when his motives come into question. Jackie Jr. asks why Joey didn't participate in the heist, and Pants just looks to the heavens and sighs, "Please. I'm still sick over it." It's worth mentioning that they cut to him on that last part, dressed in a robe just like his ostensible idol Tony. Joey confesses that he caught the clap from some hippie chick, and that his "dick was leaking like a busted pipe." Well that's a trait that certainly seems to run in the Pants family, isn't it? They should really consider seeing The Prick Doctor. You know, when we get to him. The score put Tony (and the closed-captioning is now spelling his name "Toni") and Jackie Sr. on "the fast track to being made," while Joey "was still a little shit-heel like the two of you." TFTSNBN wonders why there weren't any consequences, and Joey explains that a sit-down was held, without mentioning Richie's role in the resolution. His work at last completed, Joey departs the kitchen with one last crack about Jackie making sure to do the dishes properly. LL"TPA"FP rolls his eyes, but then looks as pensive as it's possible for someone that stupid to look.
Casa di Soprano. Carmela is curled up on the couch, bawling her eyes out at a [brand name deleted] dog food commercial. "What's wrong with me?" she wonders aloud, and we quickly cut to the answer: Tony and Gloria, emerging from the Jessica Germany hotel. They mack for a moment, but then Gloria notices that her car is listing to one side, and quickly discovers that her tires have been slashed. Tony is shocked, and looks around briefly for threats before examining the tires. As he does, Gloria notices a weird puss on his face, and demands to be told if he knows who might have done it. Tony reluctantly admits that Irina got jealous one time and slashed his own tires, but he still doesn't think it was her. Neither do I, by the way. Gloria so did it herself. Plus, if the Russians are going to come after anyone, it's Chris and Paulie, and it won't be by slashing their tires. Gloria makes it all about her once again, getting even angrier when Tony offers to pay for the damage. She taunts him repeatedly, finally referring to Irina as an "immigrant, alcoholic, probably HIV-laden slut," before Tony finally snaps and yells, "She wouldn't do it. I slapped the piss out of her last time." That's pretty much exactly what Gloria wanted to hear, and she fixes him with a evil smile as she asks, "Did you? Did you really hit her?" Their anger suddenly spent, Tony calmly explains that Irina is "a poor kid from an underdeveloped country," and that he'll have two new tires for Gloria in an hour. Then he tries some wacky tire-sizing humor as a frustrated Gloria stomps back inside.
Outside the Aprile Abode, Jackie and his sidekick are getting high and discussing potential card games they could hit. Jackie suggests one that he knows belongs to Joey Pants, primarily because he's fed up with all the "rinse-the-dishes bullshit." He starts laying out a plan that involves their pal Carlo and his shotgun, saying that everyone will respect them when they find out about it, and that they won’t get "squashed" because "[his] old man is Jackie Aprile." TFTSNBN finally agrees to go along, and pulls out his cell phone to call the mysterious Carlo. There's no signal, however, and the boys head inside to meet the best meta-joke of the evening: Basic Instinct's famed no-underwear interrogation is playing on the TV, just at the point where "Whatever Happened To" Sharon Stone is explaining how she'd "have to be pretty stupid to write a book about killing, and then kill someone in the way [she] described it." You know, just like The Little Lord copying the card game caper? Man, these are some good writers. And editors, too. When the boys spot the movie, they grab a seat, leaning back to await the big leg-crossing moment. We slowly fade to black as the pot destroys their short-term memory, causing them to forget all about the plan to call Carlo.
Fade back up on Carmela in the confessional. Much to Sars's dismay, she's speaking to a different priest than Father Intintoola (tm Sars, and maybe that will cheer her up). Not that it matters in the context of the episode, but the new priest is black, and apparently Carmela was referred to him by Father Tool Time because he's getting his doctorate in psychiatry from Seton Hall. "Psychology," corrects Father Notintola, and Carmela sobs and admits that The Tool told her that "[her] whole life is a lie." And now she's afraid that she's sick, and that she won't get to go to heaven. Despite the fact that she hasn't seen a doctor, Carm is convinced that she's got ovarian cancer. She lists her symptoms, and despite (or perhaps because of) my stated ignorance of all things gynecological, I think that sounds more like menopause than cancer. The new priest reminds her that "God doesn't punish people for the mistakes that they've made," and then mentions that he thinks her symptoms could mean that she's pregnant. "That's another possibility," admits Carmela, and they're both silent for a moment. The priest suggests adjourning to his office, and they do. Carmela now repeats her psychiatrist's advice to leave Tony, but of course, the Church doesn't approve of divorce. "My life is financed by crime," she says. "The psychiatrist called it blood money." I think this new priest might be a bit of a Buddhist, because he replies with the wise koan that "God understands that we all live in the middle of tensions." He encourages her to live only on what "the good part" of her husband earns (yeah, right). Then he basically tells her to just ignore the problem by not "crossing the boundaries" that make her feel uncomfortable. Carmela thinks for a moment, and then decides that that's something she can do. It's worth mentioning here that she's now got the ring completely covered up with her left hand. "Oh, and go see an OB/GYN," is the priest's final bit of advice. Maybe I should take it.
Das Sopranohaus. Tony and Carmela are in the kitchen eating breakfast, and ladies and gentlemen, we have robe. StR = 1,710. After the StTM adjustment, and an award of one hundred additional bonus points for pulling off the tricky robe trifecta of Tony, Gloria, and Joey Pants, the episode earns itself a solid A grade. Nice work, Dave. Anyway, Carmela talks about the British government's Mad Cow disease cover-up, and Tony responds with what is rapidly becoming the second half of the season's shorthand for "What are you gonna do?" -- the corny joke. This time it's "Maybe they didn't want to start a stampede." Carmela gleefully tells him that Meadow and Jackie Jr. have broken up, only she refers to them as "a former medical student" and "the Queen of Mean." Heh. Tony is thrilled to hear it. Carmela goes gossipy, and relates that she heard from Angie "Oh God Don't Make Me Spell It Again" Bonpensiero that Jackie Jr. has been smoking pot and cheating at Rutgers. "She would have been better off with that black kid," opines Carmela, and this time, Tony is noticeably more restrained in his disagreement. The phone rings, and it just so happens to be Gloria, calling from the dealership. She doesn't appear to be drunk, but I guess she's nonetheless not quite as "independent-minded" as Tony seems to think. Gloria delights in offering Carmela an opportunity on a new car, and makes sure to tell her to "mention it to [her] husband. Maybe he'll want to treat you." Carmela politely declines and hangs up before turning to Tony and saying, "What a nice woman." When Tony hears that it was a saleslady from Globe Motors, he suddenly stops chomping his Honey Combs, and demands to know how they met. Tony listens to the story of the ride home Carmela got, all the while pondering the potential consequences. When she's done with her tale, he suddenly hops up and walks straight out of the room.
Cut to the dealership, where his Suburban squeals to a halt. He comes inside and makes a beeline for Gloria, who's arguing with an annoying co-worker of her own. She shoos him away as Tony approaches, and Tony quickly grabs her arms and drags her back into her office. Throwing her against the wall, he starts ranting about her calling the house. Gloria looks surprisingly calm about being grabbed around the throat in the middle of her place of business, and just explains that she just wanted Tony to "see [her] version" of the whole tire-slashing incident. Gloria gets inappropriately loud as she claims that "it's just normal to be curious about the person that you love's significant others." Tony quiets her by saying, "No it's not. It's fucking twisted," and in Gloria's case, I have to agree. Gloria flips the switch from manic to depressive, and starts apologizing all over the place. "I realize it's on the margins for someone like you," she says, and I gotta think that throwing meat would be on the margins for just about anybody, never mind the whole Carmela-carpool thing. Tony grabs her throat again as a couple of oblivious customers wander past, and then throws a nod to their first meeting by instructing her to "tell [her] shrink that [she's] killed eight relationships now." He leaves her alone in her office, and the co-worker comes back for the required scene-ending shtick. He wants Tuesdays off so he can take his kid to see "Raffi," and we simply fade to black on Gloria's annoyed reaction.
Fade back up on Carmela getting a sonogram. "Just tell me right out, Doctor. Don't mince words," she says, and we again make a Cut Of Clever Commentary (if I may again be permitted a bit of a mince myself) to some singer explaining that he doesn't want people knowing about his private life. Jackie and TFTSNBN are eating pizza and watching TV, and Jackie is still fired up about his heist idea. He echoes Joey Pants by suggesting that the sidekick not come and miss out, and TFTSBSN finally caves in and picks up the phone.
We can only assume that he makes the call, however, because we cut to Carmela Soprano and The Vicious Circle, having one of their regular lunches at Vesuvio. Or perhaps we should just call it Gabrielle Dante's Inferno. Anyway, Rosalie snarks that Artie isn't using the right olive oil, and then Carmela lets out that she just came from the doctor, who gave her a clean bill of health. There's much thanking of God, which leads Carmela to sheepishly admit that she thought she might have been pregnant. "Bite your tongue," exclaims Rosalie Aprile, "at our age?" The talk of children naturally leads to a discussion of the star-crossed lovers, and Rosalie expresses her dismay over the break-up. Carmela says that the whole thing seems to have rolled right off Meadow's back, and Rosalie gives a maternal eye-roll at that one. Mrs. Dante then offers that "it's not like the grief we go through with our husbands." Or, I'd imagine, with her acting coach. The conversation now moves into an extended analysis of the relative merits and debits of Hillary Clinton, and the highlight of the scene is Rosalie's enunciation of the word "blowjob," which rivals that of Johnny Sack for the season's finest. Rosalie finally sums up the simile by explaining that Hillary "stood by her man, put up with all the bullshit, and then…set up her own little thing." Carmela thinks about it for a moment, and then declares that "[Hillary] is a role model for all of us."
Yet another great shot of the Bada Bing sign reflected on a tinted windshield leads us into the scene. In the back, Tony is discussing the Feds (hey, remember them?) on the phone when Patsy Parisi comes in and informs him that there's a call for him on line two. "It's a woman. I think she's crying," he adds before backing out. Tony breathes deeply for a moment, and then reluctantly switches over to hear a sobbing Gloria, who can't even get out a coherent thought. She finally manages to start babbling in sentence fragments instead of word fragments, and Tony just pulls the phone from his ear and looks disgusted.
Cut to Gloria's house, where she and her black robe answer the door. Tony comes in and stands silently in the center of the living room, waiting for her to speak her piece. "I just want it to be the way it was," she says. "I love you." Tony doesn’t want to hear her crying anymore, and remains emphatic that they're broken up. "You bring it on yourself," he tells her. "You're a beautiful, talented woman, but you push guys away." Gloria tries to convince him that it won't happen again, but Tony repeats that it's over. "We had our mo-fo, or whatever, and it was great. But now it's time to put it to bed." This time, that's not what Gloria wanted to hear, and she starts swearing at him, which prompts Tony to haul off and hit her across the face. "You think my life's a picnic?" he asks, standing over her. "Oh, poor you," she spits back, and I guess there was one other person who pushed Tony's buttons like Gloria does. "I didn't just meet you," he mutters in a rare display of depth. "I've known you my entire life." He goes on to explain how she's just like his mother, and turns to walk out. When she insults Livia, however, he comes back, grabs her arms, and pushes her to the floor. "When you see me," he yells, "you better cross the street, because you're dangerous and I don't want you in my life." He tries to leave again, and this time Gloria actually begs him not to go. Now we all know that violence against women (or anyone for that matter) is wrong, but I don't really think you can dispute that Gloria is goading him on purpose. She's suicidal, and this scenario is precisely what she envisioned when she called him over. As Tony finally gets the front door open, Gloria screams out her last-ditch effort, threatening to call Carmela. Tony goes nuts and throws her around the room, finally ending up on top of her on the floor as he grabs her throat. You know, while all you guys in the forums were going on about the complex psychological motivations and moral implications at work here, all I could think was that as much as I'm loving Annabella Sciorra in this part, I still liked this scene better when it was Patricia Arquette. On the other hand, I'm also still reeling from my film-geek faux pas of not mentioning the Miller's Crossing homage last week. Although, in my defense, I've never really been that much of a Coen Brothers fan. I just find them to be overly pretentious (and believe me, I know from pretentious). Incidentally, here's where Sars gets mad at me: ["When you see me, you better cross the street, because you're pretentious and I don't want you in my life." -- Sars] Anyway, Tony explains in no uncertain terms what will happen if she calls Carmela, but Gloria just wheezes and begs repeatedly for him to kill her now. There's a brief, spittle-spraying shot of Tony attempting to do just that, but then he backs off and makes his way out of the house, leaving a battered and depressed Gloria alone on the floor.
Cut to the only exterior street scene in New Jersey (or at least the only one they ever bother filming on), as The Little Lord, TFTSNBN, and Carlo pull up in front of the card game. They've even got Matush The Ecstasy Dealer as their getaway driver. This is seriously the worst crew I've ever seen, and as a one-time college coxswain, I've seen a lot of bad crews. Jackie tries to get the gang pumped up, but Carlo seems to be the only one with any confidence. It must be the shotgun. LL"TPA"FP expresses some reservations, thinking that maybe they should just go down the shore, but he finally decides that he wants to go through with it "before the crank wears off." Inside, Chris, Furio, Sunshine, A Guy Who Isn't Hesh, and also Thin Guy and Wide Guy are playing poker. The kids burst in and start the stick-up, with Chris calmly assuring them that everyone will cooperate. Sunshine, who's played by yet another in a long line of old-time directors (this time it's Paul "Moon Over Parador" Mazursky), spews forth a number of witty proclamations as the boys clear the cash from the table, including the ever trenchant "victory has a hundred fathers, while defeat is an orphan." Chris asks if they know who they're robbing, and you can almost see Jackie Jr. blanch behind the mask. All the wisecracks in the face of potential gunplay make me think of the "What-a-Burger" scene in Pulp Fiction, and when some random guy emerges from the bathroom and prompts Carlo to blow a hole in the door with his shotgun, the homage is complete. Upon hearing the gunshots, Matush bolts from out in front. Back inside, Sunshine starts with "If you can keep your head while those around you can't…" but Jackie Jr. suddenly loses his own head and shoots Sunshine right in the chest. Everyone dives for cover, and random gunplay ensues. Chris nails Carlo right between the eyes, but Furio catches a bullet in the leg from Jackie Jr. Fuckpants and the Sidekick run outside, and Jackie quickly car-jacks a passing vehicle. TFTSNBN waits in the middle of the road to be picked up, but Little Lord Fuckpants just leaves the now newly anointed Little Lord Fucked-Over to face the tender mercies of Chris and Thin Guy, who've arrived to point their guns at his head. It figures. I finally give him a nickname, and they immediately blow him away. Christopher, who's managed to look quite manly and professional this week, stands over the body and fires a few last shots. You can also easily tell that these guys are the adults, because they've got the whole getaway car thing down to a science. You can even hear Furio swearing in Italian in the back seat as they drive away.
Cut to The Prick Doctor, filming a Bob-Dole-esque commercial for his services. He's interrupted to take a phone call, and despite his protests, Tony orders him to come help treat Furio. Cut to a back room somewhere, where the Doc digs deep into Furio's leg to remove the bullet. Furio, still fresh off his Florida-thin victory over Bobby Bacala in last week's polling, solidifies his grip on your collective hearts by doing that which the Little Lord has thus far failed to do: taking off his Fuckpants. Heh. He's wearing blue skivvies. Man, even this guy's underwear is funny. Not that I was looking, or anything. Oh, to hell with it. My love for Furio transcends conventional gender boundaries, and I'm secure enough in my masculinity to admit it. Heck, I even feel the same way about Mario Lemieux. Not Jagr, though. I just can't bring myself to love a man with a mullet. Anyway, The Prick Doctor triumphantly removes the bullet, leaving Furio to swear some more as the pain overtakes him. Outside, Chris demands retribution, saying that if he finds Jackie Jr., he's "doing him tonight." Tony says that's not going to happen, and Chris demands to know why. "Because he's Jackie Aprile's son?" he asks, demonstrating his previously exposited willingness to get in Tony's face. Tony delivers a line of bull about not exposing themselves to Feds, and Chris calls him on it, reminding him that "[he] preach[es] this wiseguy bullshit, and then the only ones that gotta follow the rules are us." There should probably be about a hundred [sics] in that last sentence, but I can't even figure out where to start. Tony grabs him by the lapels and presses him against the wall, demanding that while Chris "doesn't have to love [him], [he does] have to respect [him]." I hope that my excessive use of brackets in that one will make up for the lack of [sics]. Chris storms off into a time-laps
e shot of the sunrise, and then the scene is over.David Chase: Oh man, Aaron's gonna have a field day with those undies.
Jaromir Jagr: Who?
David Chase: You know, Aaron. That weirdo recap guy. He's from Pittsburgh.
Jaromir Jagr: I try not to associate with the locals. They frighten me.
David Chase: Aw, come on. The Burgh's a great town. It's like a white-trash San Francisco.
Jaromir Jagr: Hey, do you know what we call a "yinzer" in Prague?
David Chase: What?
Jaromir Jagr: Petr Sykora. Bwa ha ha ha ha ha ha!
David Chase: Yeah, that joke never stops being funny.
Satriale's. Silvio gets his seven seconds of screen-time (which is seven more than Paulie manages this week), and then Joey Pants arrives for the big sit-down. He joins Tony by the table, and they both agree that the situation is "terrible." Tony asks if Joey has heard from Jackie; he says he hasn't. They sit down, and Tony explains that he feels for Joey, because "he's living under the same roof" as the kid, and Joey further points out that "it was [his own] card game." Pants mutters that it's a disgrace, but then finally works up the courage to admit that he wants to "give the kid a pass." Tony looks not at all surprised by this, and Joey continues to say that he knows Tony has "bigger concerns," and that his orders will be followed. But still, Joey doesn't want to kill the kid. "I think you should go with your instincts on this," says Tony, and Joey does look surprised by that one. "But Furio took a hit. And Chris. These are made men," wonders Pants, to which Tony replies with the crux of his plan: "I'll make sure they respect your decision, because I'm sure you're gonna do the right thing." See, Tony thinks he can pawn the problem off on Joey, who'll either kill the kid and take the heat, or not kill the kid and face the wrath of Chris and Furio. Joey makes his intentions pretty clear by quietly reminding Tony that "this is Rosalie's kid." You know, after repeated viewings, I honestly don't think he's trying to get over on Tony here. I think he thought he was helping Jackie Jr. by telling that card-game story, because he wants to see the kid have the success that he didn't. ["Or piggyback on the kid's success, either way." -- Sars] Now it's all backfired on him, and he looks genuinely shell-shocked by the whole state of affairs. Tony twists the knife a little more by pointing out that "the kid disrespected [Joey]", and that "the one thing you cannot do is blame yourself." Even if Tony does. In fact, Tony says, "You took this kid under your wing. You schooled him as best you could," before getting an evil look in his eye as he asks, "Didn't you?" Joey nods slowly, as if to acknowledge his involvement in turning The Little Lord to the dark side. Tony pulls out the pistol he took off Jackie a few weeks ago, and places it on the table. Joey takes it back, and there's a long moment of solemn silence before he leaves. Outside, he stands on the sidewalk for a moment, almost in a stupor, as he tries to comprehend the scope of the mistakes that he's made.
Melfi's office. Tony ties a nice little bow on the Gloria situation by coming to terms with the fact that "she wanted [him] to fucking kill her." "Like suicide by cop," replies Melfi. He's worried that she was just using him for the inevitable confrontation, and finally describes her as "just another Irina with a college degree." Melfi moves to get back on the therapy track, and asks Tony how he manages to recognize these women who are just like his mother. "I don't want to fuck my mother," Tony replies in frustration. "No matter how many times you say it, you’re never going to convince me." "Not fuck her," elucidates Melfi, "try to please her. Try to win her love." She goes on to say that "we need to repeat the familiar, even if we know it's bad for us." I apparently feel the same way about most adjectives (not to mention a few verbs), but that's a different story. Tony asks the only question he really cares about, which is whether or not he should be worried about Gloria calling Carmela. Melfi claims she can't predict that, and asks him again why he constantly places his marriage in jeopardy. "Maybe I'm looking for a way out," he answers, and Melfi smiles and patronizes him with "Anthony, you'll never leave your wife. She might leave you, but you'll never leave her…despite your mothering, you made one good decision in your life vis-à-vis women. You're not going to throw that over." Tony finally admits that she's right, and Melfi brings the session to a close. Tony slowly and silently walks out of the office.
Now Patsy Parisi is in the car with Gloria, taking a Mercedes for a test drive. She eyes him suspiciously, and said suspicions are proven accurate when he parks the car in an otherwise empty lot somewhere. He pulls a gun on her, and delivers Tony's final message: "It's over. Over and done. You call, or go anywhere near him or his family, and they’ll be scraping your nipples off these fine [Corinthian] leather seats." He goes on to add, "And here's the point to remember. My face is the last one you'll see. Not Tony's…it won't be cinematic." And with that he calmly exits the car, leaving a stunned and shaking Gloria to ponder his threat. And since a death without drama is exactly what she fears the most, I doubt that Tony will be hearing from her again anytime soon.
Aprile Abode. "Return To Me" plays on the soundtrack, but it's Joey Pants that returns home this time, not the prodigal son. Rosalie anxiously asks if he's heard anything, and Joey lies and tells her that "he probably went down to Florida." She bursts into tears, and he comforts her, warning that "this is probably going to be hard for [her] to hear" before claiming that Jackie has a serious cocaine problem. "We're doing everything we can. We're gonna find him," he says, holding her close. Rosalie sobs some more as he adds, "Let's just hope it's not too late." I gotta say, Sharon Angela (Rosalie) is really starting to grow on me. And to think I was too lazy to look up her name in my first ever recap. Sorry about that.
Casa di Soprano. Carmela sits at the kitchen table, studying for the real estate broker's exam, when Tony enters and comments that something smells good. Then he ogles Carmela for a moment before declaring that she looks good too. "I went to step today," she explains, and Tony wonders if that's why she doesn't "have any loony-tune moods." Ha! I could write an entire essay about Carmela and her loony-tune moods. Oh wait, I just did. Never mind. Tony notices that she's not wearing the ring at just about the same time I do, and Carmela babbles something about having it sized. If ditching the ring is enough to soothe her troubled conscience, I don’t think Tony should be too worried about her leaving him anytime soon. There's some more scenes of domestic bliss as she pulls cookies from the oven, and Gandolfini and Falco again manage to say quite a bit without actually saying anything at all.
Cut to a new street scene, where Patsy Parisi assures his wife (via cell phone) that he did in fact stop to pick up the groceries. Then he climbs into his Caddy and drives off, with the car disappearing from view just as we fade to black. You know, I get the whole Family vs. family imagery they're working on here, but the final shot still seems a little strange. If it was a farewell to Gloria, it would have made more sense to see a Mercedes disappearing like that, and I basically just spent the whole time thinking that the car was about to explode. Oh, well. I guess the real fireworks will be week.
Jaromir Jagr: You know, I think you should cast me as a hit man. I'm a sexy guy. Just look at my hair.
David Chase: Actually, we've already got Furio to cover the hair, but thanks.
Jaromir Jagr: That guy? With the pansy underwear? I don’t think so. It's not like he's led the league in scoring four years in a row or anything.
David Chase: Yeah, but he might actually be able to beat the Devils. He'd probably do it with a baseball bat, but he'd beat them nonetheless.
Jaromir Jagr: Get out. Now. And that goes for you kids with the email too.