The Many Saints of Newark
Revisiting a franchise jeopardizes the romance connecting fans to the show, and this prequel fails to capture the intrigue and intensity of "The Sopranos."
It’s been 14 years since the HBO landmark series “The Sopranos” signed off. Anthony “Tony” Soprano Jr., immortalized by the late James Gandolfini, lead the most dominant crime organization in New Jersey as the acting boss of the DiMeo family.
The show followed Tony as he attempted to navigate a balance between crime and home life. Viewers encountered the soul of each character, weighing their humanity over the unspeakable crimes they committed. The show forced audiences to do the unthinkable: cheer for the bad guys.
Movie spinoffs are difficult to execute, especially when the stakes are high. Revisiting a franchise jeopardizes the romance connecting fans to the show. Prequels must service the characters we know and love. Sadly, “The Many Saints of Newark” fails to capture the intrigue and intensity of Sopranos.
The film begins in a cemetery, focusing on the headstone of Christopher Moltisanti. The familiar voice of Michael Imperioli gives us hope for what’s to come. Sadly, Imperioli's performance sounds like he’s forced to read the voice-over against his will.
Flipping back to 1967, we meet Hollywood Dick Moltisanti, Christopher’s father who arrives from Italy with a young new wife, Giuseppina (Michela De Rossi). He introduces her to his family and son, Dickie (Alessandro Nivola). Following a mishap, Dickie attempts a “good deed” by reconnecting with his imprisoned uncle (Ray Liotta).
The audience is given peeks into the family business during communions, funerals, and parties, as 11-year-old Tony Soprano (William Ludwig) looks on. His father, “Johnny Boy” Soprano, is in and out of prison. In his absence, Uncle Dickie takes an interest in Tony, who wants to be a professional football player when he grows up.
Race relations interweave throughout the story, including the Newark riots of ’67, but the film fails to say anything meaningful about the historical significance. The racial tensions have little effect on the family and seem only to serve as a backdrop to Johnny Boy’s explosive temper and intolerance.
Halfway through the film, Tony (Michael Gandolfini), now 16 years old, doesn’t show much interest in the family business. The writers throw a Hail Mary in the final scene as Tony punches a kid, but it’s too little and too late to convince the audience this is the future boss of New Jersey’s strongest crime family.
Director Alan Taylor and writers David Chase (Sopranos creator) and Lawrence Konner promised us an insight into how Tony Soprano was created. Unfortunately, they failed to answer their own call; this disappointing and ordinary story is too preoccupied with Dickie. Nivola’s performance as the lead protagonist declines to command the threatening approach and physicality needed to trust his character.
Overall, the prequel hammers too many characters and events into an undeveloped storyline. Faltering back and forth, these cartoon cringe-y wise guys are spread thin, exhausting the viewer’s patience.
The good thing about the film is that you won’t realize how disappointing it is until it’s over. Saints proves that every story doesn’t need a prequel. Let’s collectively agree to leave Tony Soprano’s legacy alone.