The Sopranos is more than just a TV show. For many, it’s a deeply personal experience, a lens through which they can understand themselves, their families, and the world. For me, it became an unexpected bonding experience with my father, a way to share something profound in a time of grief and isolation. Watching The Sopranos with Baba—my father—was an experience that went beyond the screen. It turned into something special, a ritual, a conversation that transcended television and reached into our lives.
The Unexpected Connection
Television has always been a strange medium in my family. We were the kind of family that shied away from the more “inappropriate” aspects of TV, where we would quickly change the channel whenever something too intimate or adult came on. In a way, television was always a background noise, a distraction, never a shared experience. That all changed during a particularly difficult summer when my mother passed away, and the pandemic left us in a state of isolation.
With nowhere to go and little else to do, Baba and I found ourselves diving into something we never would have imagined—The Sopranos. It wasn’t just about revisiting a great show; it was about creating a shared experience, something that could help us deal with loss, distance, and the chaos of the world. Streaming on Disney+ Hotstar in India, we started the journey through the world of Tony Soprano, a mob boss whose struggles with family and mental health mirrored, in many ways, our own personal challenges.
A Father-Son Journey Into The Sopranos
The first episode set the tone. Tony Soprano, a seemingly tough mafia man, seeks therapy after an anxiety attack triggered by a peculiar attachment to ducks in his swimming pool. As we watched, it was clear that this show wasn’t just about the mafia; it was about complex relationships, mental health, morality, and family dynamics. The Sopranos quickly became a mirror, allowing Baba and me to reflect on our own lives while diving into the intricate lives of Tony and his dysfunctional crew.
For me, it was an opportunity to share something profound with my father, someone who had introduced me to some of the greatest films of all time—Satyajit Ray and Sergei Eisenstein. The show was cinematic in its scope, and I wondered how Baba, a man who had spent his life exploring the world through a lens of documentaries and films, would react. Would he appreciate the depth of The Sopranos? Would he connect with its characters?
As the show progressed, it became clear that this was not just another TV show. It was something we could discuss, laugh about, and debate. We began to see Tony not just as a mobster but as a man struggling with his own inner demons. And through that struggle, we both gained insights into our own lives. Watching The Sopranos wasn’t just about understanding Tony’s journey; it was about understanding our own familial relationships in a new light.
The Sopranos and the Power of Therapy
One of the most striking aspects of The Sopranos is Tony’s relationship with his psychiatrist, Dr. Jennifer Melfi. Watching Tony confront his psychological issues, all while trying to maintain his tough-guy persona, was a revelation for Baba. He had always been skeptical of therapy, dismissing it as a luxury rather than a necessity. Yet, as we watched Tony struggle with his feelings, his insecurities, and his anxieties, something shifted in Baba’s perspective.
In the beginning, Baba couldn’t understand Tony’s reluctance to open up in therapy. “Why doesn’t he just talk to her?” Baba would mutter, frustrated with Tony’s avoidance. But as the series progressed, Baba’s attitude began to change. He saw the emotional complexities that both Tony and Dr. Melfi were navigating. When Tony finally started to open up, Baba’s empathy for the character deepened. He realized the profound role therapy played in Tony’s journey—not as a quick fix, but as a long and painful process of self-discovery.
The conversations that followed were rich with reflection. Baba and I found ourselves talking about mental health in ways we hadn’t before. It wasn’t just about Tony’s issues; it was about our own emotional struggles, our unspoken grievances, and the complexities of our relationship as father and son. Tony’s journey became ours, a way for us to explore feelings we had never articulated.
A Shared Bond Over Family and Food
Much of The Sopranos revolves around family—the conflicts, the loyalty, the love, and the betrayal. It’s a theme that resonated deeply with both of us. As Baba and I continued watching the series, we found ourselves connecting over these family dynamics, comparing the characters of the Soprano clan to our own family members. We’d talk about Tony’s fraught relationship with his sister, his struggle with his mother, and his sense of responsibility towards his children.
But it wasn’t just about the emotional weight of the story. Food played a significant role in the show, becoming a metaphor for comfort, tradition, and, at times, tension. Tony’s love for food—especially his infamous Sunday dinners—was something Baba and I also found ourselves relating to. We would watch an episode and then cook a meal, often Italian-inspired, to mimic the Soprano family’s gatherings. Cooking and eating together became an essential part of our experience, a way to ground ourselves in the show’s themes while building our own shared memories.
The Genius of The Sopranos Writing
Beyond the characters, the writing of The Sopranos is what truly elevates the show to a masterpiece. The balance between humor and tragedy, between high-brow philosophy and low-brow mobster antics, is what makes this show feel so real. One line that particularly stuck with me was Tony’s remark after surviving an assassination attempt: “Every day is a gift, but does it have to be a pair of socks?” This line was not only brilliant but entirely believable coming from Tony, a man torn between wanting more from life and feeling stuck in his violent, criminal world.
The dialogue in The Sopranos is never forced. Every word feels like it carries weight, and every character has their own unique voice. The writing is profound yet relatable, philosophical yet grounded in the reality of mob life. Whether it’s Tony talking about his dreams of ducks or Carmela’s struggle to reconcile her desire for luxury with her conscience, the show masterfully explores the inner workings of the human psyche.
Creating Our Own Bond
In a time of profound loss and isolation, The Sopranos became a shared experience that connected Baba and me in ways I didn’t expect. We would talk about the episodes over meals, making jokes about Uncle Junior, discussing Christopher’s motivations, and debating the actions of the Soprano family members. It wasn’t just about the show; it was about finding a way to connect through storytelling.
Watching The Sopranos with Baba was our grown-up experience—a chance for us to bond over something mature, meaningful, and deeply reflective. We couldn’t have watched the show when I was younger. Its nudity and violence would have made it impossible in a household that still held a sense of propriety. But now, it was our time. Baba was reluctant at first, but eventually, he started to see The Sopranos not just as a crime drama, but as a profound exploration of family, identity, and the human condition.
Conclusion: A Toast to Television
Now that Baba is gone, I look back on our time watching The Sopranos with a sense of gratitude. It wasn’t just a show we watched together; it was a way for us to connect, learn, and grow together during one of the most difficult times in our lives. It became, in a sense, the drink I had with my father—something that helped us process grief, family dynamics, and our own complicated relationship.
The Sopranos will always hold a special place in my heart. It wasn’t just the greatness of the show that made it so significant; it was the personal journey we shared through it. Television, when done right, has the power to bring people closer—and for Baba and me, The Sopranos was the bridge that connected us in a way nothing else could.
