GRAVY'S GOOD TONIGHT

One of the things I loved about David Chase's The Sopranos television series (1999–2007) was its relatable portrayal of pettiness and misunderstandings between its characters—so similar to what many of us experience in daily life. Gangster boss Tony Soprano, played by the late James Gandolfini, could just as easily blow up over an empty cereal box as he could over a betrayal by an associate in his inner mafia circle.

In one of my favourite episodes, "Irregular Around the Margins" (Season 5, Episode 5), tensions between Tony and his nephew Christopher Moltisanti (Michael Imperioli) reach boiling point when Christopher suspects Tony of cheating with his fiancée, Adriana (Drea de Matteo). The suspicion arises after Tony and Adriana survive a car crash together, leaving them with injuries that others interpret as “suspect,” suggesting some form of intimacy might have occurred.

Determined to maintain the illusion of a stable family dynamic, Tony reminds Christopher that regardless of what he believes, they must present a united front. He emphasises that any visible discord between them could embolden their enemies, who are always looking for signs of weakness within the family to advance their own territorial ambitions.

To reinforce this facade, Tony and Christopher, along with their spouses—Carmela (Edie Falco) and Adriana—dine together at their favorite restaurant, Nuovo Vesuvio, owned by Tony's close friend Artie Bucco (John Ventimiglia). The dinner serves as a public declaration of unity, aimed at quelling suspicions. It’s only when Vito Spatafore (Joseph R. Gannascoli) of the DiMeo crime family approaches the Sopranos’ table and remarks, “Gravy’s good tonight,” that Tony can finally relax, knowing that from an outsider’s perspective, all appears harmonious. Vito's comment adds a lighthearted touch to an otherwise tense situation, reinforcing the appearance of normalcy and resolving lingering tensions from earlier in the episode.

This denouement brilliantly demonstrates how these gangsters operate at a Jane Austen-like level of social etiquette, far removed from their trademark violence. The scene could almost belong in a Merchant Ivory period drama, though it fits just as well in a 21st-century gangster saga. Adding to its sublime conclusion, the scene is set to the divine soundtrack of Puccini's La Rondine, proving once again that it’s often music that soothes the savage beasts—even those with a New Jersey ZIP code.