Chaotically Organized Chaos - In Defense of The Sopranos' Fifth Season

If you ask someone what their favorite season of The Sopranos is, there are two seasons that likely won’t be the answer: Season 1 and Season 5. The reasons for Season 1 are pretty obvious - It’s a great show, but it’s still one that’s finding its footing in regards to tone and character writing. Season 5, on the other hand, is a little more complicated. On one hand, it almost seems like it’s leaning into being the kind of mob war TV series that a subsection of the fans had always craved, a constant barrage of dudes taking each other out amid a power struggle. On the other, it can feel like a mess in comparison to the emotional and thematic hyperfocus of Seasons 2, 3 and 4.

That said, I believe that there’s a lot to love about Season 5, especially when it comes to Tony’s ideals and the precipitous nature of his organization’s structure. It’s the season that lays bare the fact no one is actually in control of, well, anything and that the entire world of the show itself is doomed to either fall by its own hand or get swept up in Hurricane Tony. In this way, it sets up Season 6’s main arc in that there is no exit.

Season 5 is mostly remembered for its influx of new characters like Phil Leotardo, his kid brother Billy, Tony Blundetto, Angelo Garepe, Lorraine Calluzzo, Feech La Manna and Rusty Milio. Most of these characters are either returning from a long stint in prison or seem to have been operating in the background. Regardless, The Sopranos finds itself filled with new, important figures on a scale that it never has before. Even Season 2, which played with the same theme of “guy from the past returns and tests Tony’s patience” with Richie Aprile, feels organized in a way that this dumping of a toy box of aged gangsters doesn’t.

This has led to allegations that Season 5 is ultimately disjointed, and it’s hard to disagree there. Tony Blundetto? Attempts to go straight but is very quickly lured back into a life of crime and spends the last moments of the season on the run after a rash decision. Feech La Manna? A legend in the family that finds himself at odds with Tony within minutes and gets shipped back to prison in just few episodes. The season itself is mostly a back and forth from the moment Carmine Lupertazzi Sr. bites the dust - Johnny Sack and Phil have Lorraine killed, Joey Peeps is murdered in retribution, Angelo gets taken out in retribution for that, Billy gets taken out in retribution for that, etc. The dominos are barely set up before the show’s writers begin flicking them down.

However, one can argue that even if all of this looks like a Rube Goldberg machine of assassinations, it’s not necessarily surprising. Or even all that cluttered. It’s been clear for a while now that Tony and his pals are hypocrites, claiming to believe in certain ideas that they absolutely do not practice. Reverence for the old ways, adoration for the “strong, silent type,” adherence to a code - all of these go out the window with even the slightest hint of pressure. What we come to learn in Season 5, though, is that Tony’s crew is no outlier - Though Carmine Lupertazzi seems to have a careful hand on things in past seasons, his death and the way the entire system quickly devolves into bloodlust proves that perhaps the world of The Sopranos is hypocritical. Perhaps the entire universe of the show isn’t governed by any set of rules. Perhaps it is all fate and sometimes fate is a free-for-all.

Blundetto, in particular, takes the most blowback from this. He’s obviously a crucial character, meant to be a sort of funhouse mirror to Tony in the way that all of his other family members are. But the whiplash fashion in which he quickly seems to drop all scruples and fall prey to his id is concerning to those that might’ve preferred a more precise fall from grace. But there’s no real fall here. Blundetto is pushed, not just by destiny but by everyone and everything around him. The logic of The Sopranos’ universe dictates his sudden plummet.

I spoke earlier that Season 5 is a warm-up for the “doors are all locked and we can’t get out” vibe of Season 6, and one can find echoes of Blundetto in Vito’s upcoming arc where he learns that outside life, the “real” life that involves consistency and healthy relationships, is too hard. He just can’t crack it. Blundetto’s turn is fast, yes, but in the escalating claustrophobia of the show, it definitely fits. The mob world might seem wild to us, but in The Sopranos, the “real” world is the devil you don’t know.

Running next to all of this is Tony and Carmella’s separation, one that sees Tony reduced to old habits like hitting on his psychiatrist, something that may seem like recycled material and an unnecessary addition when other elements feel like they deserve more attention. This time, though, his flirtation has a richer detail that it didn’t in the beginning when he first made a move. Though we won’t see the ruin of their personal and professional association for a while, this assures the audience that it is indeed coming. That Tony, while full of guilt and rage and lust, is also self-obsessed to the extent that a lot of the conversations with Dr. Melfi, though tense, end up making him feel better because they’re about him.

The emasculation he felt thanks to Carmella’s fixation on Furio subsides when he tries to woo Melfi because, deep down, he believes that this other person wouldn’t do that because she’s interested in him. Is she even close to that level? Melfi always wrestles with her dedication to her profession and the macabre allure of working with such a complicated criminal. But just like many conversations on the show, this subplot forces us to look at both the past and future through another lens. Has this all been just a vanity exercise for Tony? What is the Venn diagram between his need to understand himself and his need to simply be seen?

Season 5’s ultimate theme of it all falling apart at the seams even extends to characters that seemed previously stable. Johnny Sack has always been angry, but taking on the role of boss and everything that entails exacerbates his issues and he risks exploding in a way that Lupertazzi, who remained emotionally distant, never did. Fan favorite Adriana La Cerva, who is providing info to the FBI in exchange for keeping both her and Christopher safe from jail time, faces profound misery here and is executed when she reveals her subterfuge to the person she thought she could trust the most.

Seasons of television, especially in the age of “Prestige TV” and whatever we’re in now, are expected to rise and build and finish with a bang. Season 5 of The Sopranos, on the other hand, collapses. It seemingly can’t handle the weight of everything it’s trying to do. But I don’t think it’s meant to.

I think, regardless of whatever issues the writers faced during its creation, Season 5 works best as the beginning of the end. Tony felt from the first episode like he was coming in on the end of something good, and this is the flag for the final lap being raised. It’s the death march of everything you might’ve previously relied on in the show, a middle finger to the idea that we, or any of the characters, were going to be handed satisfaction on a plate. The final scene of The Sopranos might be famous for its resistance to giving viewers resolution, but we find that seed sprouting here. Try as you might, like Tony Blundetto, there was never any other way.