By Aaron
As we were lying in bed together one night, sharing a cigarette and picking cat hairs off the pillow, Sars explained to me about a little something she likes to call "The Pod Theorem." And before you ask, it has nothing to do with whales or body snatchers. Pods, you see, are groups of like-minded individuals who band together based on common interests or ideologies. The TWoP community, for example, could be considered a pod, as could your own circle of friends, wherever you may be. Pods can form and disband, grow and change membership, and even fight with other pods whose ideals may be in opposition to their own. And so as the cigarette burned down, and Sars reached over to grab my favorite vibrator, it occurred to me that ideas such as nationalism, tribalism, and ethnic identification are but pod theory writ large, with group upon group upon group overlapping and intertwining in an infinite Venn Diagram of humanity.
God, I love it when Sars is on vacation. On the other hand, if you really believe Sars would ever sleep with me, I've got some property down on Frelinghuysen Avenue I'd like to sell you. And besides, everyone knows Jessica is my real soul mate. Oh, and also Strega. And sometimes Shack.
Heh. Who's "mommy's little hoooah," now?
Anyway, on with the show. We open this week perched precipitously above the pig which adorns Satriale's. We're looking down on an assembled crew of Sopranos henchmen that includes (going clockwise) Bobby Bacala, Christopher, Joey Pants, Wide Guy, Patsy Pees-A-Lot, Guy Whose Sole Contribution To The Scene Is Loudly Blowing His Nose (formerly known as Thin Guy), Silvio, and Furio. As they so often do, the boys are sipping coffee and speaking intelligently about the important social issues of the day. Or maybe they're just betting on license plates. Either way, Bobby pipes up from his prime corner seat to read aloud an article about a planned Native American protest of the upcoming Columbus Day parade. Predictably, this news doesn't sit well with our Italian compadres. Here's a sampling of their thoughts on the issue:
Joey Pants: See, it's these Indians, and the Commie fucks.
Bobby Bacala: I wouldn't mind sitting on my ass all day, smoking mushrooms and collecting government checks.
Christopher: You gotta admit, they did get massacred, the Indians.
Silvio: It's not like we didn't give them a bunch of shit to make up for that. Land, reservations, and now they got the casinos.
Furio: I never liked Columbus. [Spits wad of phlegm]
Furio: I never liked Columbus. [Spits wad of phlegm]
There's more in that vein, but I think you get the picture. And speaking of picture, director Tim Van Patten continues his habit here of staging close-ups that are just a wee bit too close, but it proves oddly effective in capturing the mood. Silvio finally ends the scene by oh-so-solemnly proclaiming, "I'm gonna take action here." How? By getting Bruce to write a song about it? "Born In The U.S.A. (Before It Was The U.S.A.)," perhaps?
In an early attempt to flash some of those clever writing skills that make him the only member of the cast David Chase deigns to allow into the writer's lounge, Michael Imperioli cuts us from the lazy men-folk just sitting around, to their wives and girlfriends, who are busy working out at the gym. After briefly expositing that everyone will be attending a luncheon seminar at the church the day entitled "Italian-American Women and Pride," the conversation moves to the exercise bikes and the subject of Furio's "trademark" ponytail. Carmela, of course, loves it, but Adriana reports that "Sandi Fortunado says it looks like a dick coming out of his head." Heh. This from a woman wearing a leopard print tank top with a black lace bra underneath. Does Adriana own anything that isn't leopard print? I'm surprised she hasn't dyed that dog orange and black yet. "And she pretends to be his friend," responds Carmela. "What a two-face." Cut to Adriana, looking suddenly forlorn. For me, that answered any questions there could be about whether or not she's working with the Feds. And while we're clearing stuff up, let me assure you that the person doing stomach crunches in the background is not Gloria Trillo, Uncle Junior, CGI Livia, or any other cast member. They're extras, people. They don't mean anything. That's why they call them "extra."
Yeah. So. Here we are. You know, I've always said that the hardest scene I've ever had to recap was Melfi's rape last year. I mean, I've dealt with plagues, penii, giant alien sandworms, and Kevin Williamson's DVD director's commentary, and I never even blinked. But I. Have. NEVER! Seen anything like this. In fact, I've spent most of the last week just trying to come up with ways to euphemistically avoid talking about what's paused on my TiVo screen right as I type this. I was going to talk about Simchas Torah. I was going to reference that scene in Ferris Bueller's Day Off where Ferris says you could stick a lump of coal up Cameron's ass and get a diamond. Hell, I was even going to do some a cappella singing in honor of this week's special guest editor, Djb. Unfortunately, however, my official TWoP recappers contract specifically states that I have to tell you what happened on the show, even at the risk of great personal injury to my retinas. So here goes: Janice shoves a vibrator up Joey's ass and she calls him her little hoor and pretends to be his Guido the Killer Pimp and it's really really disgusting and then Rosalie calls and Joey's cell phone ring tone is the theme from Rocky and God help me I laughed my own ass off at that and if you've ever laughed while vomiting it's very very painful because puke gets stuck in your nose. Whew. Moving on.
Aaron: Dude! What was that?!?
Michael Imperioli: I know. I'm sorry. I just really wanted to see the look on Pantoliano's face when I handed him the script.
Aaron: Yeah, well I hope it was worth it.
Michael Imperioli: Oh, it was. Trust me.
When I stumble back to the TV after gargling with mouthwash and extracting the hot pokers from eyes, Paulie is on the prison phone to Johnny Sack. He makes a big show of not wanting to tell him about Joey's Ginny joke, even though it's totally clear that's exactly what he wants to do. Sack screams with the righteous fury of a man whose wife has been called fat by a guy who's sleeping with Janice Soprano.
Vesuvio. It's a sit-down between the Sopranos and the New York family. Johnny Sack explains that New York hasn't been getting enough of a cut from the esplanade project, and when Joey interrupts with a potential solution, Johnny immediately bites his head off. Not literally, of course, although it's just possible Joey Pants might enjoy that sort of thing. Tony smoothes the dispute over with a promise to make the cut 65/35, and everyone clinks their glasses in celebration. Then Carmine asks Sack to explain "the other thing" he wanted to talk about, and Johnny proceeds to gently chide Tony for profiting on the Frelinghuysen Avenue deal when they're supposed to share everything that comes out of Boon and the esplanade. Tony looks peeved, but agrees that they can "work something out." There's more toasts, and Tim Van Patten does an excellent job of framing shots to hide the completely random guy they've got filling a seat to Tony, Joey, and Christopher.
Maison de Soprano. And just when I was about to compliment the show for reining in the rampant product-placement that took place last year, we're now treated to a full-length Charles Schwab ad, complete with THE FUCKING 800 NUMBER. Now that's just wrong. And what's really embarrassing is that Edie Falco and Federico Castelluccio have to remain completely silent and engage in fake stage business for like three hours until the commercial finally ends. I mean, is HBO not making enough money in monthly subscription fees? Do they need a referrers link to Amazon.com on their web page? Is this show just so damn expensive to produce that we can't even enjoy thirteen hours of commercial free programming, especially given that we've ALREADY PAID FOR IT? Then again, I've seen AOL Time Warner's stock price, so maybe they need all the money they can get. Anyway, Furio's brought over some cookies and pictures of his new house, and he and Carmela share a fairly flirtatious conversation. And aw, he likes her too. Mob love is so cute. Once the commercial stops running on the TV, we get an episode of Montel featuring Native-American activist "Dr. Del Redclay" and Italian-American activist "Phillip L. DiNotti" arguing about the upcoming Columbus Day parade. Dr. Redclay's position is that Columbus was a "genocidal colonial general." Phil DiNotti's position is that Columbus was a great explorer who discovered the New World. And also that he was an admiral, not a general. DiNotti then launches into a long speech about how his ancestors braved the "perilous Middle Passage" lo these many years ago to reach America, which of course infuriates Montel, because the Middle Passage was actually the route used for the slave trade. See what they did there? Pointing out how, historically speaking, pretty much everyone has oppressed pretty much everyone else? Yeah. Get used to it. It happens in every scene for the rest of the episode. Well, except for that one where Joey licks Janice's face. That one just oppressed me. Now Tony comes downstairs, just in time to share a cute moment with Carmela and exposit for us that Uncle Junior's trial is about to start.
And here it is. Junior and Melvoin sit at the defendants table, and Junior bitches about his legal fees while the judge drones on with procedure. As near as I can tell, Wacky Old Guy and Bobby Bacala are the only family members in attendance. And that's pretty much the whole scene. So much for plot development in that neck of the woods.
Across town, the women are attending their luncheon seminar. And just to prove that the casting department has just as much a sense of humor as the prop guys, they've cast none other than Roma Maffia to play a speaker who denounces the idea that Italians are always associated with the mob. At one point Roma actually braves Sars's wrath by citing a Princeton University study that claims "74% of Americans associate Italian-Americans with organized crime." At least she didn't claim her and Sars were in bed together at the time. Some lady at a table near the front turns around to stare at the mob wives on that line, and Rosalie angrily flips her off. Heh. I've missed Rosalie. She should get off the Prozac more often. For some unexplainable reason at this point, Michael Imperioli has chosen to make Father RinTinTola of all people the show's mouthpiece as he cites a more recent survey which concluded that most Americans understand that media portrayal of Italians as gangsters is mostly fictional. Way to defend yourself with a strong character there, guys. Of course, he also quickly redeems himself by throwing Strega a shout-out, calling her a "sorceress" and an "imago." I'd make a bug joke here, but I think we all know what happens when I cross Strega. So let's not go there, okay? And besides, the wives clearly share my disdain for the man, as evidenced by their post-seminar conversation on how the good Father seems to be forgetting whose money built his parish. It's so bad that Carmela actually works the show's trademark "Whaddya gonna do?" line twice in two sentences. Flush with the righteous fury of a woman whose husband has just been called a mobster by a man who uses the communion ceremony as foreplay, Mrs. Little Stevie runs off to "cut him a new one."
Which is exactly where we cut to . "How dare you let [Carmela] suffer humiliation and embarrassment at the hands of an outsider?" she shouts back in Father Tool Time's office. "Unfortunately, because of her husband's high profile in the waste industry, Carmela is the one who bears the brunt of these insults." Heh. I don't know why everyone always bitches about Mrs. Little Stevie's acting. I thought she was quite good here. Her line reading was a bit flat, but then so is the character, and she does work a pretty mean glare on her way out the door. You go, Mrs. Little Stevie! Once she's gone, Father Philanderer just shrugs and returns to his canoli. Heh. My spell-checker really wants that last word to be "canola," which, given the recent scandals, would put a whole new meaning on the scene.
Columbus Park. A group of Native-Americans is staging a fairly rowdy protest, the highlight of which comes when a woman who appears to be the long-lost identical cousin of Marilyn the Quirky Secretary from Northern Exposure yells, "Mussolini was Hitler's bitch!" Things quickly turn ugly when Silvio and crew arrive, and within seconds, a fight breaks out. The cops storm in to calm things down, and Silvio turns out to actually be on a first name basis with them. One even apologizes for the fact that the Indians have a permit that allows them to protest. Meanwhile, Patsy Parisi, and Yet Another Familiar Guy Whose Name I Don't Know have snuck off to the side, where they're attempting to dislodge a hanging Christopher Columbus dummy that's scheduled to be burned in effigy. This quickly leads to those two getting arrested, and then a bottle comes flying out of the crowd and smacks Little Paulie on the back of the head. Artie absolutely cracks me up as he freaks out at the violence and frantically scrambles to lock himself back in the car. Before he makes it, however, some kid creams him in the back of the head with what looks like an orange Slurp-E. Mmmm, Slurp-Es. Silvio rounds his gang up and leads them out of there, but not before Little Paulie has to be taken to the hospital.
Back at the church, the women emerge and head for their cars. Mrs. Little Stevie delivers a report on the stern talking-to she gave Father Intintola, and then Karen Bacala says she has to get going for a dental appointment. Everybody watch as she climbs into her mini-van, because it's the last time you'll ever see her. In the background, Foreshadowing rings the church bells as ominously as only he knows how.
Cut to later, as Bobby Bacala sits in his car, stuck in traffic. He's got a funny cell phone ring, too. It's no Rocky, but then again, he also doesn't have a vibrating piece of plastic stuck in his ass. At least I hope he doesn't. With that fat suit Steven Schirripa has to wear, you never really know. It's his AJ-wannabe kid on the phone, calling to tell him that Mom wants him to bring home some steak and eggplants for supper. Bobby complains that Mrs. Bobby can be "a real pain in the ass sometimes," but he does agree to do the grocery shopping. Through the windshield, we can see a nasty-looking car wreck up ahead, with police, paramedics, and Foreshadowing all gathered around the flipped-over car.
Chez Soprano. Carmela and Rosalie enter to the sounds of a ringing phone. Carmela answers, and is quickly informed about Karen Bacala's death. Her and Rosalie share a tearful hug. Farewell, Karen Bacala. We hardly knew ye, but your husband was everyone's favorite fat guy. Fade to whi…whoops. Wrong show.
The day, Silvio, Christopher, Furio, and Patsy are playing cards in the Satriale's back room, reminiscing about the dear departed Mrs. Bobby. Tony comes in and mentions that the same thing happened to a friend of his. In keeping with the show's ethnic theme this week, he makes sure to point out that the other driver was Oriental. Then he smacks Patsy across the back of the head, and yells at him for getting arrested while Junior is on trial. Silvio quickly takes the heat for everyone, declaring "This is something that hits home. I can't turn the other cheek on this." But could you at least turn to a different shirt-maker? Preferably one who doesn't normally combine old tablecloths with Hefty bags when making his product? Tony dismisses everyone else, and he and Silvio sit down to discuss the issue. After detailing his contributions to the Italian-American Anti-Defamation Coordination Council at length, Silvio explains that everyone wants Tony to get involved in this one. "As your consigliore, I think the guys, and myself too, we need your leadership on this." Tony agrees to participate, but insists that they "use [their] brains." Silvio assures him that they will, claiming, "this battle will be won on a PR level. Hearts and minds." Inspired by this little pep talk, Tony gets up to call Boon for assistance, which unfortunately leads us directly into a close-up of Peter Riegert clipping his nose hair. Tony asks him to take action against the Native-American protesters, but Boon claims that his "hands are tied on this one." Tony slams the phone down on him in mid-sentence.
It's psychiatry time. And if you thought Linda Lavin was bad last week, wait until you get a load of Janice's New Age, neo-hippie, feminist shrink. After the Roma Maffia thing, I'm actually kind of surprised they didn't cast the actress who played Vera. In fact, let's just call her Vera, shall we? Janice has apparently told Vera all about Joey Pants, and she's bemoaning the fact that she seems to be repeating the mistakes of her past (although she does claim that Richie is in the "Witness Protection program," rather than in the sausage casings that are hanging on the back wall of Satriale's). "It brings me back to my childhood," she cries. "Where I had no love, and no support, and where I was shamed and ridiculed for being artistic." You know, as opposed to now, when she's also shamed and ridiculed for being artistic. Vera draws a connection between Janice's need to seek her father's approval with her need to seek Tony's approval, and then tells her she needs to make a change in her life. "God grant me the strength," laments Janice. "She will," replies Vera.
Hey! It's Dr. Del Redclay, live and in the flesh. And speaking of flesh, he's got his really hot assistant with him. They're sitting in a lounge somewhere, discussing his interview schedule (and also making it clear who's winning the PR battle at this point), when Joey Pants wanders in, carrying a rolled-up poster and wearing an ensemble that's quite subdued by his normal standards. He introduces himself as "Henry Caruso" (though the bad red hairpiece made me type that as "David Caruso" at least twice), and then takes a long, lingering look at Del's comely assistant. She introduces herself in turn as "Del's TA," causing Joey to sneer, "Yes. Yes, I can see that." Heh. If it weren't for what Artie says later on, that would totally be the best line of the episode. Joey sits down and launches into his spiel, saying that he represents the concerned Italian citizens of New Jersey. He's also sure to refer to them as "family people," just to get his point across. He then unrolls his poster, revealing a picture of "Iron-Eyes Cody," a famed Native-American actor from the early days of American cinema. Except it turns out that Mr. Cody wasn't really an Indian, but was instead a "second-generation Sigilian' from Louisiana." "You keep up your bullshit," threatens Joey, "and we're gonna go wide with this." Oh, yeah. I'm sure that'll be front-page news. Who cares what W and Saddam are up to when the relative ethnicity of a dead movie star is being called into question? Hell, not even Vin Diesel can make news with that story. Del puts on a brave face until Joey departs, but then quickly breaks down and calls the situation "a major PR boner." His TA assures him that Joey's claim is nothing more than a rumor, but also says that it wouldn't matter even if it were true. After all, she's part Italian herself. "My great, great something-or-other was a Pony Soldier. Well actually, he was a violinist, attached to Seventh Cavalry." Heh. And can someone please explain to me why Joey thought this ploy would work? I mean, besides the fact that he's Joey, of course.
Casa de Soprano. Tony comes downstairs to breakfast in his robe (StR = 1,607, for a solid B), to find AJ reading aloud to Carmela from one of his history books. Or at least he's trying to. AJ is apparently barely literate. Why don't I find that hard to believe? The text he's reading quotes Columbus saying that the Indians they discovered in the New World would make good slaves, and could be "subgated" with only fifty men. Carmela is incensed by this, explaining to her husband that "His history teacher…is teaching your son that if Columbus were alive today, he would go on trial for crimes against humanity like Milosevic and, you know, Europe." Bwah! The political-nerd conservative in me is still giggling at that, but I can actually feel Deborah glaring at me from over on The West Wing, so I'll just move on. Tony proceeds to justify the genocide of Native-Americans thusly: "You had to walk in Columbus's shoes to see what he went through. People thought the world was flat, for crying out loud. Then he landed on an island with a bunch of naked savages on it. I mean, that took a lot of guts. You remember when we went to Florida? The heat? And those bugs?" Yep, that's right people. Heat, bugs, and naked savages led us directly to the Trail of Tears. Who knew? "In this house, Christopher Columbus is a hero," proclaims Tony. "End of story." And, end of scene.
Cut to Karen Bacala's funeral, where Bobby is sobbing in the front row. He gets up to kneel beside her casket, and a close-up reveals that Rico could apparently get a lot of work in New Jersey. As he bawls into the casket, the wives sit near the back and gossip amongst themselves. Except for Adriana, that is, who's sitting silently beside them in a low-cut dress, hoping that the wire she's wearing isn't poking out from inside her cleavage. Several minutes of extensive research on my part determines that it isn't, and I finally decide to unpause the TiVo. Mrs. Little Stevie wanders over, and relates an anecdote about a telephone conversation she overheard in which Silvio mocked Bobby for being the only one of the gang without a mistress. Carmela turns to ask who he was talking to, but Mrs. Little Stevie doesn't know. Just for kicks, I'm gonna assume it was Clarence Clemmons. Or maybe Roy Rogers. Anyway, it's not like Carmela didn't already know Tony cheats on her.
Out in the hall, Johnny Sack is signing the guest book when Joey Pants comes over and starts babbling to him about whatever excuse Michael Imperioli came up with to put the two of them in the same scene. Johnny answers him with an insouciant, "Stick it in your ass!" and then warns Tony to "Keep him the hell away from me." Tony immediately turns to Joey and demands to know what he did this time, but Joey swears he has no idea. "And I've got better shit to do," sighs Joey. You mean like Janice? "Something's going on," opines Silvio, and Tony connects the dots with Carmine knowing about his plans for Frelinghuysen Avenue. "Somebody's talking to much," he spits, after cueing the promo department to mark this particular section of tape. "And it's costing me money."
Wow. Joey's "better shit to do" actually seems to involve changing his pants at Rosalie's house. And also breaking up with her, but we'll get to that in a minute. First we have to listen to Rosalie's lengthy and somewhat boring marijuana-induced ruminations on death. I guess I shouldn't blame her too much, though. Pretty much all marijuana-induced ruminations tend to be lengthy and boring. After all, I have noticed that my recaps have gotten a lot shorter now that I'm out from under Alan Ball's hazy cloud of bong smoke. I also seem to be cleaning potato chips crumbs out of the keyboard a lot less often. Joey finally admits that he doesn't think he can stay with her anymore, because even though he could be comforting her and caring for her, he's not getting anything out of the deal himself. "What do you get?" asks an incredulous Rosalie. "How about your every need taken care of? Sexually, everything. All your shit." Oy. Now I'm picturing Sharon Angela with the vibrator, which is unfortunate, because it's detracting from her excellent performance in this scene. "You want to leave me?" she asks, and Joey whispers a subdued "Yeah." She immediately throws him out of the house, and sits back to start crying before he's even out the door.
Woo-Hoo! It's Hesh time, baby. Sars hates him, but I love the guy. He's in my pod. Tony and a bunch of the crew have gathered at Hesh's stables to admire a horse that Joey Pants plans to buy. Hesh mentions that the horse's name is Pie-O-My, thus bending the space-time continuum and setting an all-time unbreakable SttM record by mentioning the episode's title two weeks before it even airs. It's also causing me to want to make an Imajica reference, but my inner nerd-detector refuses to allow me to publicly humiliate myself by quoting from a Clive Barker novel. Tony asks Hesh if he has any contacts in the Indian community, and Hesh admits that his niece's cousin runs a casino for the Mohonk tribe in Connecticut. My admiration for Hesh has now been slightly diminished by the fact that he's apparently allowed Donnie Pfaster to marry into his family. Tony explains that he's looking for a way to prevent the Native-American protests, but Hesh isn't sure he wants to help. "I can't say I don't have any sympathy for the red man," he explains. "Jews, because of their history, have common cause with the oppressed." He goes on to tell the story of how settlers gave Indians blankets that were deliberately infected with smallpox, which gets Ruben the Cuban all fired up over the origins of bio-terrorism. He's so fired up, in fact, that the closed-captioning actually makes the first mistake I've ever seen on this show, when they neglect to include the "bio" in front of "terrorism." "Christopher Columbus was no better than Adolph Hitler," he continues, but he doesn't get far, because Hesh completely flips out when he hears that one. "You're talking out of your ass. Columbus and Hitler? You're trivializing the Holocaust. Frankly Ruben, if you've got that kind of covert anti-Semitism, I'd like you to leave my house." Heh. And yeah, I know they're getting more than a little heavy-handed making their point here, but the performances do save the day. I've giggled every single time I've rewound past that "talking out your ass" line.
Bobby's house. Carmela and a few of Bobby's sisters are there, helping him deal with the kids. I'd say Bobby looks like a shell of his former self, but he hasn't exactly lost all the weight yet. By the way, see what I did there? With the early SttM reference? Yeah, I know. I'm sorry. Anyway, Bobby heads upstairs to put the kids to bed, and Carmela answers the phone to find Uncle Junior on the other end of the line. Junior wants to apologize for missing the funeral, but with the trial and all, he can't be seen associating with known mobsters. He also wants a ride to court the morning, and Carmela quickly upbraids him for being so selfish. Then she hangs up on him, leaving Junior alone to contemplate his own mortality.
Meanwhile, Joey has arrived at Janice's house to begin their new life together. He screeches up in his car, lays on the horn, and then jumps out and dances around her front yard, screaming that they don't have to hide any more. Janice isn't quite sure what to make of the news, but Joey, who's clearly high on something, is ecstatic. He leads her inside, promising to "devote [himself] to [her] completely." Then he licks her face. Ew. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'd rather be watching Joey and Rachel. They start making out by the staircase, and Joey starts kissing his way down her body. Now if this were Six Feet Under, he'd have made it all the way down there, but fortunately it isn't, and Janice remembers that it's her night to be at Bobby Bacala's house. She can't decide what to do, but another face lick quickly convinces her. They run up the stairs, and we're fortunately spared the sex-scene this time.
Vesuvio. And it seems I was wrong earlier. Donnie Pfaster isn't in Hesh's family. Instead we get to meet the actual niece's husband "Marty," who merely knows Donnie, and who is played by that guy who always plays Italian schlubs. No, not him. The other one. Yeah. Anyway, Marty complains that the bubble-jet printer Hesh gave his daughter for her Bar Mitzvah doesn't work, and Tony and Silvio look like they're about to start beating him over the head with it if he doesn’t shut up soon. Finally, Big Chief Donnie arrives, and introductions are made all around. Tony thanks him for coming all the way down to New Jersey, but Big Chief Donnie replies that he had business in Manhattan anyway. A passing Artie mutters, "Oh! Not again!" before setting down some plates and walking away. Bwah! Now that's the best line of the night. If I were someone who spent too much time in our forums, I might even say Michael Imperioli owes me a new keyboard. Oh, wait. I do spend too much time in our forums. I'd still never say that, though. After everyone finishes either laughing at the idea of an Indian chief (or rather "chairman," as Marty puts it) in a button-down suit and tie, or being creeped-out by the thought of an Indian chief who's also a hair and finger-nail obsessed serial killer, they all start discussing business. Big Chief Donnie proves quite amenable to helping them stop the protest, even going so far as to point out that his casino has a very large Italian customer base. Once the deal is done, Silvio comes right out and mentions that Big Chief Donnie doesn't really look like much of an Indian. Donnie, of course, admits that he had a "racial awakening" right about the same time the casino bill was passed. He also says that the mother of his grandmother on his father's side was one-quarter Mohonk. Heh. Marty takes us out of the scene by raising his glass and suggesting that everyone "Mohonk if you love Columbus." Hee!
Janice has finally arrived at Bobby's house, claiming that she missed her turn the night because her Bible group was feeding the homeless. Uh huh. Bobby just sits at the table and mopes, but Janice insists that he talk about his feelings. He finally breaks down, and explains about being mad at Karen for making him go to the store when he was sitting in the very traffic caused by her overly-coincidental but still highly dramatic plot point. Er, accident. Janice watches him cry, and a look that could almost appear to be compassionate (if we didn't already know she was a sociopath) comes across her face.
Satriale's. The guys are enjoying a nice lunch when Big Chief Donnie calls to let Tony know that he was unable to stop the protest. Tony takes it pretty well, but Silvio insists repeatedly that he ask about whether or not the Iron Eyes Cody thing made any difference. Big Chief Donnie says it didn't, and makes the analogy that it's like knowing James Caan isn't Italian. Did people think he was? I had no idea. Although I guess Silvio did, because the hangdog look he sports upon hearing the news is priceless. Anyway, Chief Donnie invites the crew up to spend a day at the casino, and Tony accepts. Silvio refuses to believe that the battle has been lost, but Tony claps him on the shoulder, and rather tenderly explains that it's over. As has been pointed out on the forums, pretty much everything that could possibly go wrong for Tony has this week, but he seems to be taking it pretty well. Probably because he hasn't yet realized just how far his power has slipped.
Therapy time again. But still no Melfi. Hmmm. This is becoming a trend. Janice is explaining to Vera how she felt so moved by Bobby's emotions, and how she "felt unworthy to even be in his presence." Vera, on the other hand, scores a giggle from me with a perfectly contemptuous "oooo-kay" upon hearing that Bobby is also a mobster, but is "not like the others." Of course, he really isn't, but she doesn't know that. She then insists that Janice break up with Joey, adding that she should do so "with the respect and compassion [she's] famous for." Heh. Is Melfi the only shrink on this show who doesn't just tell people what they want to hear?
Mohonk casino. Tony is working the craps table, but scores an unlucky roll just as the scene starts. This, of course, allows Silvio to utter the highly-portentous line, "You had a great run T, but now it's over." After Foreshadowing swings by to take their drink order, Tony leads the crew over to the buffet and tells an absolutely horrible joke that I won't bother to reproduce here. Then Big Chief Donnie arrives, and after reminding me that this recap is due in less than fifteen minutes, he asks to speak privately with Tony.
Well, well. Ask, and you shall receive, I guess. Here's Melfi, wandering into her home with ex-hubby Richard LaPenna in tow. Dick, being the dick that he is, wants to watch the news, and looks utterly flabbergasted when he sees Italians and Indians screaming at one another at the parade protest rally. Heh. What's an ethnic identity-obsessed liberal to do? On the other hand, I can't believe Lorraine Bracco only gets ten seconds of screen time this week, and nine of them involve watching her ex-husband being pretentious. She doesn't even get to roll her eyes at him, for God's sake.
Janice's house. Joey arrives, massive suitcase in tow, and finds Janice waiting for him at the top of the stairs. He barely makes it ten feet into the house before she starts harping on him to take off his shoes. Perhaps having expected nothing more than a rousing evening of role-playing and analingus, Joey is totally confused by her sudden anger. He's even more surprised when, for no apparent reason at all, she suddenly shoves him down the steps and starts screaming "Get out!" over and over again. Yep. That's certainly the "respect and compassion" Janice is so rightly famous for. Oh, and while we're here, would adding a quick "now" after one of those "get outs" really have killed them? I'm just saying. Joey lies crumpled at the bottom of the steps, variously moaning about his injured back and threatening to kill Janice. Finally she runs off and locks herself in the bedroom, and Joey manages to struggle to his feet and get out. Now.
And finally, we join the boys in the car on the way home from the casino. Silvio tunes in a news station on the radio, and is dismayed to learn that he missed the entire Columbus Day parade. "I forgot this was a Monday," he sighs. So let me get this straight. We spend an entire episode (of which we only get thirteen, and those only once every other year) on a complete throwaway plot-line, and then the characters themselves forget all about it? I'm not sure I understand the dramatic logic behind that decision. I mean, yeah, I laughed my ass off all episode long, so I guess I shouldn't complain, but still. If all I wanted was a good laugh, I could watch network TV and mock the production values. It certainly works for the rest of TWoP's staff. Anyway, there's only a few minutes left in the episode, and also in my time to write the recap, so let's all put on our protective anti-anvil headgear and dive right in. Tony starts chewing Silvio out, because his obsession with ending the protest has now put Tony in Big Chief Donnie's debt. And Donnie wants to cash in by getting Frankie Valli to come up and play the casino for a week. He then launches into a lecture on his own version of pod theory, bemoaning that all anyone can talk about anymore is what group they belong to. He also longs for the days of Gary Cooper, and the "strong, silent" hero-type. Silvio responds by saying that anyone named "Cooper" has no idea of the suffering Italians have had to endure. Tony, however, still insists on belaboring the point that everyone but the occupants of this car grasped by the end of the opening scene: "If [Gary Cooper] was around nowadays he'd be a member of some victims group. The fundamentalist Christians, the abused cowboys, the gays…" Christopher pipes up from the back seat with, "He was gay, Gary Cooper?" Heh. At least Mike wrote himself one good line this week. There's still more speechifying and point-making, and I'm reduced to checking out the somewhat distracting effects of the day-for-night blue filter they’re shooting with. Tony finally suggests that Silvio take up all his complaints with Frankie Valli when he makes the call to get him to play at Big Chief Donnie's casino. And just like that, the credits kick in, and Frankie Valli himself starts wailing on the soundtrack. It took way too long to get there, but I'm always sucker for a good end-credits joke.
Well, that's it for this one. No more Michael Imperioli scripts until year. But don’t get too worried. I hear Buscemi is coming back to direct again.David Chase: Um, hello? Anyone out there?
Aaron: Uh, yeah. Sorry about that. It's been a busy week.
David Chase: Uh huh.
Aaron: No, really. I do have a day job, you know.
David Chase: Oh, sure. I guess those guys at the bank are more important than me, huh?
Aaron: Is that supposed to be some kind of a crack about Jews and money?