When I first dove into “The Sopranos,” I had very high expectations for the series. After all, not many television shows achieve such consistently high ratings from audiences and critics alike. I knew I would be drawn to the crime-related elements of the show, but I was surprised by how the family dynamics matched, and sometimes even surpassed, the drama and tension of the underworld scenes. 

The pilot episode introduces the story of Tony Soprano (James Gandolfini), a man struggling to balance his personal life and his profession as a member of the DiMeo crime family, often with dramatic and disastrous consequences in both fields.

Through his therapy sessions with Dr. Jennifer Melfi, portrayed with subtlety and composure by actress Lorraine Bracco, we get a vivid glimpse into Tony’s chaotic world. He seeks therapy after experiencing severe panic attacks triggered by both the pressures of his life as a mob boss and the turmoil in his personal life. Beyond the dangers of the underworld, Tony grapples with a toxic marriage, a strained relationship with his rebellious son A.J. (Robert Iler), and his daughter Meadow (Jamie-Lynn Sigler) becoming increasingly aware of his criminal activities.

In the show’s first episode, “Pilot,” a family of ducks appears every day in Tony’s pool. Eventually, he gains a deep, latent affection for them. Their significance gradually unfolds through his sessions with Dr. Melfi. The family of ducks and their eventual departure symbolize Tony’s fear of losing his own family. In the chaotic, violent, and unpredictable world of organized crime, the ducks serve as a poignant reflection of his anxiety about the fragility of his personal life.

Through the first few episodes, we meet Tony’s paternal uncle, Corrado “Junior” Soprano (Dominic Chianese), who also works under DiMeo crime boss Jackie Aprile Sr. (Michael Rispoli). In the fourth episode, when Jackie dies of cancer, Junior is promoted to boss. Junior is a ruthless and reckless leader, to say the least, and his executive decisions often lead to a plethora of trouble and infighting within the family. In one particularly dark moment, while Junior is being fitted for a new suit, his tailor informs him that his 14-year-old grandson died by suicide after taking drugs sold to him by Rusty Irish (Christopher J. Quinn), a member of DiMeo capo “Larry Boy” Barese’s crew. Despite Rusty being one of the crew’s top earners, Junior orders his execution. 

This ruthless act underscores Junior’s volatile personality and his willingness to go to extreme lengths to maintain control over the business, even if it means alienating key members of his own organization. Though Junior retains the title of boss—much to his frustration—Tony begins to assume more responsibility and control following Junior’s many hotheaded decisions. This marks the beginning of Tony’s ascent to power as he starts navigating the complex dynamics of the family business. Meanwhile, Junior struggles to maintain control, his old-school mafia tactics no longer sustainable in an era where law enforcement is increasingly focused on mob activities, a problem compounded by his advancing age.

Then there’s Tony’s complicated and abusive relationship with his mother, Livia Soprano, played brilliantly by Nancy Marchand in what I consider the standout performance of the season. Tony desperately attempts to get her into a nursing home as her health deteriorates, but Livia, who seems to be the only person with the power to belittle Tony, continuously undermines his efforts and intensifies his emotional struggle.

“You know, everyone thought Dad was the ruthless one,” Tony admits to Livia in one scene. “But I gotta hand it to you. If you’d been born after those feminists, you woulda been the real gangster.” 

Livia may not engage in physical violence, but her manipulative and controlling nature makes her no less powerful and assertive. She even convinces Junior to put a hit on Tony, proving her ability to wield influence as effectively as any man in the family. Livia’s power stems from her mastery of emotional control and psychological manipulation, presenting a form of influence that differs from “traditional” mob power. At first glance, she may appear to be a harmless old woman, but beneath that facade, she’s just as psychopathic as any hardened mobster. In this way, she operates like a mafioso by proxy, shaping events and people with a quiet yet devastating influence.

As the season unfolds, Junior’s desire to kill Tony begins to build from a complex web of resentment, power struggles, and familial tension. Junior, the official boss of the Soprano family, feels increasingly undermined by Tony’s covert actions. While Tony is running the family behind the scenes, Junior’s authority is eroded, and he feels disrespected as Tony’s influence grows. Compounding this is Tony’s decision to place Livia in a nursing home, a move that both Livia and Junior perceive as a deep betrayal. 

As the situation intensifies, Junior and Livia decide that the best solution is to have Tony whacked. The final straw seems to be Tony’s visits to Dr. Melfi, which both Junior and Livia interpret as a sign of weakness. They believe that if they remove Tony, they’ll restore their control over the family. However, the attempt fails miserably and leaves Tony with only a slight graze on his ear from the two hitmen who attacked him. In retaliation, Tony has two of Junior’s men killed, but before he can go after Junior, the FBI arrests him and indicts him on federal racketeering charges.

In a fit of frustration, Tony contemplates smothering his mother, Livia, after suffering a severe stroke but is stopped by hospital staff. The season culminates in a bittersweet moment at the local Vesuvio’s restaurant owned by Tony’s friend Artie Bucco (John Ventimiglia), where Tony, surrounded by the rest of his dysfunctional family, attempts to hold it together with a toast: “To the times that were good.”

As a storm rages outside, the crash of thunder mirrors the chaos and turbulence brewing within Tony. This is a moment of profound irony as Tony, trapped in the life he’s chosen, realizes he can never escape the consequences of his actions.

Christopher Moltisanti (Michael Imperioli), Tony’s “nephew” and protege, also takes center stage in this season. Christopher is torn between two ambitions: He dreams of becoming a screenwriter in Hollywood, hoping to turn his life story into a script, while also eager to rise through the ranks in the mob. This internal struggle becomes a key theme as he faces these choices later in the season (which I will be reviewing next week). 

Christopher shines in the episodes “The Legend of Tennessee Moltisanti” and “A Hit Is a Hit.” In these episodes, he explores his aspirations in the music and film industries—passions that, unlike his mob life, he genuinely loves. Despite his desire to leave the mob, he is trapped by his family legacy. Leaving the mob life would mean betraying his late father Dickie Moltisanti (Alessandro Nivola), a notorious capo, and Tony, who has taken Christopher under his wing and has high hopes for him within the underworld. 

This internal conflict makes Christopher a tragic figure, caught between his dreams and the weight of family expectations. During a powerful moment in “The Legend of Tennessee Moltisanti,” Christopher cries out to his friend and fellow soldier Paulie Gaultieri (Tony Sirico), and asks, “Where’s my arc?” 

“I got no arc either,” Paulie responds. “I was born, grew up, spent a few years in the army, and a few more in the can. And here I am, half a wise guy. So what?”

Perhaps the season’s most tragic character is Tony’s wife Carmela (Edie Falco). A complicated figure, she is swooned by the charms, money, and wealth that come with living in the mob but struggles with the moral implications of loving a heinous person. At times, Carmela acts as an accomplice to Tony’s actions, providing him with food, love, and warmth. She knows about Tony’s numerous mistresses and feels disgusted by his infidelities but is unwilling to leave. Her internal conflict between her desire for a comfortable life and the reality of her husband’s violent and immoral world is one of the season’s most poignant and heartbreaking elements. 

A.J. and Meadow are also integral to the family dynamic. A.J. is just like his father—a troublemaker at school and seemingly indifferent to the consequences of his actions—though Tony refuses to admit it. Throughout the season, it’s interesting to watch him gradually realize that his father may be involved in the mafia. Will A.J. follow the same path? Based on their many similarities, it certainly seems possible.

Meadow, on the other hand, seems to be more acutely aware of the contradictions in her life. While she deeply loves her father, she is also frustrated by the dark, violent world he inhabits, which she tries to distance herself from. Her primary focus is on her education, relationships, and planning for a future that is separate from the chaos of her family’s mob connections. Despite her best efforts to live a “normal” life, the weight of her father’s criminal lifestyle always looms over her, affecting her sense of identity and her relationship with him. Meadow’s duality helps to set the stage for a deeper internal conflict that will progress into later seasons as she navigates the complexities of her family and exactly where she lies within it, if in it at all.

Overall, the first season does an excellent job of laying the groundwork for the main characters. One standout episode of the season, “Nobody Knows Anything,” delivers a major turning point for Tony. Corrupt detective Vin Makazian—played by the late John Heard in an Emmy-nominated performance—tells Tony that his close friend and trusted soldier Salvatore “Big Pussy” Bonpensiero (Vincent Pastore), has been working as an informant for the feds.

According to Makazian, Big Pussy was given a choice: cooperate or face 30 years in prison for heroin trafficking. Worse yet, he’s allegedly secretly recording conversations that could bring down the Soprano crew. This episode sees Tony grappling with the unsettling realization that perhaps his friends aren’t as loyal to him as he once thought. They might prioritize saving their own skin over their allegiance to him. Tony is betrayed, but in the end, it’s the life he chose.

Another highlight is the episode “College,” where we first see Tony for what he truly is: a cold-blooded killer. While driving his daughter to a college visit, he encounters Fabian Petrulio (Tony Ray Rossi), a former soldier now in the witness protection program. Later, Petrulio spies on Tony and rats him out, but Tony continues driving his daughter to her college visit. When he’s out of Meadow’s sight, he then kills the rat with a brutal garroting. As he walks away from the body, he watches mournfully as a flock of ducks flies away, just like they did from his pool in “Pilot.”

Still, the greatest episode of the season is undoubtedly its penultimate episode, “Isabella.” Tony, deeply depressed after Pussy’s unexplained disappearance following Mazakian’s claim that he was a rat, meets a beautiful Italian woman named Isabella (Maria Grazia Cucinotta) in his neighbor’s backyard next door. She introduces herself as an exchange student staying there while the neighbors are away. Tony takes her out to lunch, and she describes the beauty of Avellino, the town where his grandfather was born. Later, he has a vivid daydream of Isabella in a rocking chair in a village house, nursing a baby aptly named Antonio.

However, one day, Isabella is gone. When the family next door returns, Tony asks about her, only to realize he has been hallucinating. Dr. Melfi instructs him to discontinue the lithium he was prescribed and theorizes that Isabella may actually be an idealized maternal figure who represents an unconscious creation that stemmed from Tony’s trauma with his mother. The episode’s brilliant twist powerfully highlights the deep tragedies that plague those with abusive mothers, making it one of the most poignant moments of the series thus far.

Next week, I will be revisiting season 2 of “The Sopranos,” a season I consider even better than the first. With the death of a major character and heightened stakes, it takes the drama to another level. See you then!

Brendan Kelso can be reached at bkelso@wesleyan.edu.