This week's Sopranos was another home run; if the episode when Buffy's mom died is the best tv episode about the death of a loved one, the most true, then this is the best tv episode ever about the attenuated reality/unreality of having a loved one in the hospital. There's just something about naked emotion wonderfully presented from fully realized characters who seldom speak what's in their heart that really hits you. Special kudos to the underused and underrated Jamie Lynn Siegler and Robert Iler for their excellent work in this episode, and to that dude for actually lifting his leg to let one go on the Soprano sofa.
That might very well have been the first actual honest to goodness fart in television history. Real life, interpreted as transcendent art. God I love The Sopranos.
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And yet so anti-climactic, because with all they're doing, you know what's being set up. Turf wars, Paulie-Walnuts vs. Sylvio, everybody wanting a taste.
And you want it to start now. Now, dammit! Not next week! So while you admire the artistry used in the hour, you really wanted it to be two...or three.
At least I'll get my share of killin' on 24 tonight.
Call me crazy but I like the set up before the mayhem ensues. Patience grasshopper. Expectation leads to disappointment and this is The Sopranos we're talking about.
Don't be an angry buddhist.
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