The Sopranos never grabbed me, and I seldom watched it. I had the sense that others found it interesting for some of the same reasons they watched Jersey Shore. People told themselves, “This is prestige TV,” while they gawked at the strip-joint scenes and giggled at the mobsters’ Borscht Belt malapropisms.
The Many Saints of Newark strikes me, as the show did, as junior-varsity Scorsese. The suspense scenes aren’t as suspenseful as the mob master’s, the comic scenes aren’t as funny, the strange rituals and signifiers aren’t as rich and deep and fascinating and macabre. There’s a torture sequence that reminds me of how much more devastating the one in Casino was, and, when the film tries to deliver some rock ‘n’ roll gusto, it reaches for a second-tier Rolling Stones song (“Sway”). Moreover, the plot of the movie is meandering and haphazard. For a long period of time, everyone seems to forget that a gang war has gotten underway and can only end with the murder of one of two key figures. People go on about their lives when they should be going to the mattresses.






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