‘The Many Saints of Newark’ Review: Both Gripping Mob Drama and Gratuitous ‘Sopranos’ Fan Service

‘The Many Saints of Newark’ Review: Both Gripping Mob Drama and Gratuitous ‘Sopranos’ Fan Service
More. It would be impossible to sum up “The Sopranos” in a single word, but some of them sink to the bottom of David Chase’s storied television epic like a dead FBI informant dumped into the Atlantic. Respect. Family. Gabagool. More. More. More. More. The insatiable desire for more — more money, more power, more whatever the fuck you can take from this world — never crystallized into a slogan the way it would in executive producer Matthew Weiner’s “Mad Men,” but New Jersey mob boss Tony Soprano was at heart the largest and most perversely likable incarnation of a classic American archetype: The bottomless pit. The double-or-nothing. The never-ending breadsticks. He was the bastard son of a country where everything is for the taking as long as you can live with taking it from someone else; a country unified only by its shared belief that “enough” is a foreign concept.
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