Tony Soprano Is Dead To Me

I first watched The Sopranos back in 2005. I remember because it was the year my son was a senior in high school, when some of this closest buddies all but lived at our house. One or two of them would pop in to the den and sit with us for a while, transfixed, as was the entire nation, by the addictive series. At the time I thought it was the greatest thing I had ever seen on TV. So not long ago, my husband and I thought it would be fun to watch the whole thing again. To our surprise, it was like seeing it for the first time, given our spotty memory as older adults. 

At first we loved it. Of course James Gandolfini was the best thing about it, but all the acting was superb. And the photography is certainly stunning. But despite enjoying certain aspects of each episode, we slowly became horrified by the repulsive and abusive behavior of almost all of the characters. What a bunch of lowlife animals! Even Tony, who I loved so much the first time around. He's possibly the worst one, cheating on his wife with any woman who looks at him twice and whacking close friends and beloved relatives without a second thought.

I won't make it through the whole series this time, as last night's episode was so nauseating I decided to call it quits. For some reason, watching people get beaten to a pulp with an iron bar, or shot in the face 22 times, or dismembered in a bathtub, or run over by a car, or strangled with piano wire, or kicked and punched in the stomach, or slapped around by a group of hoodlums is less appealing at 80 than it was at 59.