I watch the Naples episode of The Sopranos for probably the sixth time and am convinced more than ever that this is the finest television I've ever seen. I am awestruck by Edie Falco's kitchen scene and hallway departure at the end with Aida Turturro ("Janice"). Janice goes on one her condescending rants about the inadequacy of Mafia momma's-boy manhood, including her brother, Tony Soprano. Carmella reminds her that she's one to talk, having recently thrown her flab at the despicable, repulsive Richie Aprile. The final bit of dialog (Jovanotti's "Piove" playing in background) goes something like this:
Janice: Carm, Richie, because of his life experience in prison, he—he has a sensitivity to the plight of women.
Carmella: Oh my God. (laughs heartily). I am not even going to touch that one. But you had me going there for a while there, you really did. Oh, Janice, honey, I gotta love ya. Rick?—(laughs).
Carmella walks away from the kitchen at this point, and in an eight-second close-up as she pauses, her face becomes a study in great acting, in subtle nuances of transition. Her grin is set on cruise control, but those eyes tell you four stories. Showing genuine laughter at first, they morph into the merest hint of self-doubting introspection (Is Janice right, am I nothing but a pathetic goombah housewife?) then yield to yet a third look of "f**k it, Jan's the screwed-up one, not me. What a hoot." Yet at the same instant the eyes exude some kind of miraculously sincere warmth behind it all. All in eight seconds. Hand it to director TimVan Patten, he knew brilliance when he saw it, and brought out the best in Edie. Small wonder she got the burger-biggie awards recognizing her as the finest actress on television--ever.
Janice: Carm, Richie, because of his life experience in prison, he—he has a sensitivity to the plight of women.
Carmella: Oh my God. (laughs heartily). I am not even going to touch that one. But you had me going there for a while there, you really did. Oh, Janice, honey, I gotta love ya. Rick?—(laughs).
Carmella walks away from the kitchen at this point, and in an eight-second close-up as she pauses, her face becomes a study in great acting, in subtle nuances of transition. Her grin is set on cruise control, but those eyes tell you four stories. Showing genuine laughter at first, they morph into the merest hint of self-doubting introspection (Is Janice right, am I nothing but a pathetic goombah housewife?) then yield to yet a third look of "f**k it, Jan's the screwed-up one, not me. What a hoot." Yet at the same instant the eyes exude some kind of miraculously sincere warmth behind it all. All in eight seconds. Hand it to director TimVan Patten, he knew brilliance when he saw it, and brought out the best in Edie. Small wonder she got the burger-biggie awards recognizing her as the finest actress on television--ever.