The Sopranos
I’ve never seen The Sopranos.
There, I’ve said it.
Those who feel so inclined can now sneer at what a loser I am and shake their heads at my complete lack of pop culture competence.
The NY Times today referred to the show as “widely proclaimed as the greatest drama ever created for television.” While that may be damning with faint praise, it certainly counts as something. I always thought Twilight Zone was pretty good but who am I to argue with the paper of record?
All week long, the media have been waxing rhapsodic about Tony Soprano and company as the show prepares to air its last episode. You’d think it was Queen of England stepping down or Brett Favre hanging up his cleats the way they’ve been going on about it.
I like a good mob story as much as the next guy, but all this hoopla seems over the top. It’s not even a network show, after all; shouldn’t a bigger deal have been made when Malcolm in the Middle taped its last episode?
Maybe if I watched the program, I’d feel differently. It’s downloadable for the iPod, I think, so I could even tune in while riding my bike.
Perhaps this summer, instead of studying Indian philosophy, I’ll devote a couple hours a day to catching up on all the episodes I missed. The problem with that, however, is that the phenomenon will be over by the time I catch up—just like my experience of going to San Francisco in the mid 1970s, long after the Summer of Love had passed.
Oddly, however, all these years later, when I tell people I was in San Francisco at that time, they tend to assume I was right there when the hippie movement was in full swing. So, by that logic, if I watch all eight Soprano seasons this summer, thirty years from now, people will assume I was a fan from the start.
There, I’ve said it.
Those who feel so inclined can now sneer at what a loser I am and shake their heads at my complete lack of pop culture competence.
The NY Times today referred to the show as “widely proclaimed as the greatest drama ever created for television.” While that may be damning with faint praise, it certainly counts as something. I always thought Twilight Zone was pretty good but who am I to argue with the paper of record?
All week long, the media have been waxing rhapsodic about Tony Soprano and company as the show prepares to air its last episode. You’d think it was Queen of England stepping down or Brett Favre hanging up his cleats the way they’ve been going on about it.
I like a good mob story as much as the next guy, but all this hoopla seems over the top. It’s not even a network show, after all; shouldn’t a bigger deal have been made when Malcolm in the Middle taped its last episode?
Maybe if I watched the program, I’d feel differently. It’s downloadable for the iPod, I think, so I could even tune in while riding my bike.
Perhaps this summer, instead of studying Indian philosophy, I’ll devote a couple hours a day to catching up on all the episodes I missed. The problem with that, however, is that the phenomenon will be over by the time I catch up—just like my experience of going to San Francisco in the mid 1970s, long after the Summer of Love had passed.
Oddly, however, all these years later, when I tell people I was in San Francisco at that time, they tend to assume I was right there when the hippie movement was in full swing. So, by that logic, if I watch all eight Soprano seasons this summer, thirty years from now, people will assume I was a fan from the start.
posted by Professor Dave at 12:41 PM
2 Comments:
Better yet, Dave, just watch the very clever "Seven Minute Sopranos" you can find on YouTube.
Somebody edited all the important plot points into one seven minute pastiche by assembling clips from the shows and inserting his running narrration over it. It's really good, plus you can compress all but the last half of the last season into a byte-size chunk.
I followed the show all along (got hooked watching the DVDs in Italy when I was starved for American pop culture), but let me tell you something. I knew the Twilight Zone also, I served with the Twilight Zone, and The Sopranos is no Twilight Zone.
Even the NY Times has succumbed to hyperbole on this one!
Never watched an episode either. No matter how "good" a show is, like the Godfather, say, it is still about nasty people whacking other nasty people.
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