When HBO greenlit The Sopranos in 1997, nobody could have possibly foreseen the seismic influence and enduring cultural impact the show’s legacy would leave in its wake. Running 86 episodes across six seasons, from 1999 to 2007, The Sopranos is frequently cited as one of if not the greatest television series ever made, kick-starting a new Golden Era of Television, skyrocketing the careers of its ensemble cast, and cementing HBO as a programming juggernaut. In that regard, any work that tackles The Sopranos is ultimately bound to feel like a disappointment, existing as they must in the shadow of that series. That’s not necessarily an indictment of the quality of Wise Guy: David Chase and the Sopranos, a new documentary feature from director Alex Gibney (Going Clear: Scientology and the Prison of Belief, The Inventor: Out for Blood in Silicon Valley), but rather a statement on the show’s titanic stature itself, which has proven to be unassailable decades after the end of its original run. Perhaps armed with the knowledge of this unenviable task, Gibney opts for a more intimate approach, shifting the focus squarely to The Sopranos’ creator David Chase. Fashioning a film set to look exactly like Dr. Melfi’s office, Gibney literally sits Chase down in Tony Soprano’s chair, setting out to psychoanalyze the mind behind one of the all-time most popular shows, examining Chase’s upbringing, the genesis of the project, and how it looks being on its other side. Wise Guy might not make for the most illuminating of watches — in function, it ultimately plays like an extended bonus feature one might find on an anniversary Blu-ray collection — but for anyone itching to dip their toes back into the murky waters of America’s favorite crime family, there are plenty of delights to be found.
Erudite, articulate, and possessing a formidable poker face, Chase kicks Wise Guy off by hastily recounting his childhood, which Gibney intercuts with footage from The Sopranos to highlight the more explicit autobiographical connections (Gibney even goes so far as to recreate the show’s iconic opening with Chase in the driver’s seat of Tony’s SUV). Growing up in an Italian-American family in the Tri-State area, Chase was known to run with tough crowds as a kid, developing interests in fast cars and pretty women before being bit by the film bug in college, having been exposed to the works of Fellini, Godard, and Polanski during “International Cinema Night” with his friends. Later pursuing his own dream to make a feature, Chase eventually finds himself working in the world of television, taking on writing gigs for The Rockford Files and Northern Exposure before turning to the page and developing his own show, pulling in influences from his own background, particularly his relationship with his mother. The Sopranos was initially rejected by network after network, who could not possibly comprehend making a show about a “gangster taking Prozac,” until HBO finally came on board. Nominally a network known for airing films and sporting events, the recent successes of Oz and Sex and the City granted HBO more confidence in long-form dramatic programming, happily rolling the dice on Chase and his unconventional narrative about a gangster in therapy. Thus began an extensive casting process, and eventually production was underway, with The Sopranos finally premiering on January 10, 1999, where it was met with nigh universal acclaim becoming a cultural phenomenon overnight. The rest, as they say, is history.
Going back to the beginning of the show, Chase recounts all sorts of difficulties in finding the right cast for the job, and the process he details is one of the Wise Guy‘s highlights, sharing audition footage of Michael Imperioli, Tony Sirico, Vincent Pastore, Drea de Matteo, and Nancy Marchand, whose performance as Livia Soprano bore an uncanny resemblance to Chase’s own mother. Curiously, Chase had E Street Band guitarist Steven Van Zandt in mind for Tony, but HBO would not bank on a non-actor as the series lead, necessitating further casting until James Gandolfini was found, unequivocally perfect for the part (as a consolation, Chase created the role of Silvio Dante from scratch for Van Zandt to fill). Gibney does not solely focus on Chase, however, bringing in several writers and surviving cast members to tell their stories as well. Imperioli shares his time graduating to the role of writer, expressing his desire to work with an incredible team behind the scenes, while Lorraine Bracco recalls having to fight for the part of Melfi, having been initially chosen as Carmela based on her performance in Goodfellas but finding the psychiatrist to be the more desirable part, referencing her own maturity and experience with therapy as reason for why it proving to be the more viable option. And Sirico? Well, let’s just say that the vanity of Paulie Walnuts was not a mere affectation of the character. Of course, any look at The Sopranos would not be complete without time devoted to Gandolfini, who tragically passed away in 2013. Burgeoning from relative unknown to superstar alongside the show’s meteoric rise, Gandolfini is the heart of all things on the show, with cast members revealing his enormous generosity on set, even sharing chunks of his own salary with them to keep everyone happy. Detailed here also is how the cost of fame took a heavy toll on the actor’s private life, bringing darkness onto sets as he regularly threatened to quit production seemingly every other day, sometimes going days at a time without showing up. Chase wrote Tony with his own background in mind, but he reveals seeing a lot of Gandolfini in the part as well.
Split into two parts, Wise Guy is oddly structured with a “rise and fall” narrative, detailing tough times on the show’s back end as the writer’s room became an unbearable place to be, struggling under the might of series expectations to continue delivering something satisfying. Gibney’s own formal qualities are also fairly impeachable here, with one writer stating in an interview that they felt like they caught “lightning in a bottle,” only for Gibney to inelegantly cut away to a clip of a thunderstorm from the show. Chase shares his own battles with HBO, who balked at the episodes of “College” (in which Tony murders a man in witness protection while touring universities with Meadow) and “Employee of the Month” (Melfi’s rape), citing the troublesome subject matter as potentially off-putting to viewers. But the creator stuck to his vision, seeing it through to the end and offering periodic reminders that these characters were not role models, fun-loving as they occasionally appeared to be. There’s also a discussion of the show’s notorious ending, which left audiences flabbergasted in 2007 but has since been immortalized for its deep philosophical implications and numerous interpretative possibilities, drawing allusions from Chase’s own inspirations from 2001: A Space Odyssey (slight disclaimer: viewers expecting any further revelations or elucidations as to what “happened” during those last few moments in the finale, well.. c’mon, get serious). We’re left with a few truths, then, about Gibney’s documentary: Wise Guy certainly possesses nothing of the show’s lasting power and has all the artistic imagination of a souped-up DVD featurette, but it does at least offer a fleeting glimpse into the fascinating mind of the man behind one of TV’s most titanic creations.
DIRECTOR: Alex Gibney; DISTRIBUTOR: Max; STREAMING: September 7; RUNTIME: 2 hr. 40 min.
