Mob-Life Crises

In the real world, the Mafia may be losing its clout, but in Hollywood the mob still rules.

Almost 30 years after Francis Ford Coppola’s “The Godfather” revived the gangster genre, films and TV churn out a regular supply of projects centering on underworld activities featuring thick-necked goons prattling in broken Brooklynese--or sometimes Jerseyese--cracking skulls and strong-arming anyone who does not pay them respect (along with cash).

The latest entries to the mob oeuvre are HBO’s acclaimed series “The Sopranos” and the new Warner Bros. comedy “Analyze This,” starring Robert De Niro and Billy Crystal, which opens Friday. Both are almost reverential in their attitude about mob movies, and yet both add new twists to an old form.

The “Godfather” films became a metaphor for everything from the elusiveness of the American dream, to the dissolution of the nuclear family, to the corrupting influence of big business and politics. “The Sopranos” and “Analyze This” are the next step in this evolution, combining the anachronistic with the postmodern: Both offer middle-aged mobsters at the turn of the century trying to make sense of their chaotic lives through the help of a therapist.

“These guys are nostalgic for ‘The Godfather,’ even though it was made in 1972 and was about the ‘40s and ‘50s,” observes David Chase, the creator of “The Sopranos” and the show’s executive producer.

So what’s the story with Hollywood and the mob? HBO programming chief Chris Albrecht has a theory.

“Hollywood sees itself as glamorous renegades and that’s a self-image the Mafia has as well--though I’m not speaking for either group.”

Film historian Joe McBride notes that the entertainment industry has long been fascinated in dealing with illicit subcultures, particularly organized crime. “Hollywood’s always been mixed up with the mob in some way, from Bugsy Siegel to gangsta rap,” McBride says. “The attraction is the amorality and complete license to do whatever you want to do.”

What’s crept into the neo-mob genre is a kind of self-consciousness. The characters in “Sopranos” and “Analyze This” invoke and decode segments of “The Godfather,” comparing their actions to those of the Corleone family. In a period when movies increasingly reference other movies, “The Godfather” casts a particularly long shadow.

Coppola’s films as well as the gangster films of Martin Scorsese (“GoodFellas,” “Mean Streets”) and Brian De Palma (“Scarface”) have spawned countless imitators. Like the western and the war movie, the gangster tale is a Hollywood staple, dating back to the Prohibition era, when, as Albrecht notes, “it was current events.”

Coping With Midlife Crises

In a way Tony Soprano (James Gandolfini) and Paul Vitti (De Niro) are not that different from other aging baby boomers coping with midlife crisis. But because they’re mobsters, the drama is played out on an operatic scale. Albrecht thumbnails “Sopranos” as the story of a middle-aged man who has inherited his father’s business.

“But business isn’t so good anymore and he’s trying to bring it into the future. He has an overbearing mother, a rebellious teenage daughter and a son for whom he wants to provide a role model. He starts to question the meaning of his life and goes to see a shrink. The only difference is he’s the don of New Jersey.”

As with recent westerns such as “Unforgiven” and war movies like “Saving Private Ryan,” “Sopranos” and “Analyze This” simultaneously glamorize and deconstruct the genre. The allure of organized crime is contrasted by an aching nostalgia for the mob’s glory days (a theme explored in “The Godfather Part II” and “The Godfather Part III,” as well as Scorsese’s “Casino”).

For audiences, the genre is as vital as ever, in part due to its celebration of unbridled virility. “There are strong sexual overtones to our fascination with the mob,” observes Andrei Simic, professor of anthropology at USC.

As with westerns and war movies, the gangster film is basically a man’s world where the current PC rules of behavior do not apply. “The Mafia is not an equal opportunity employer,” observes Chase, while McBride likens the appeal of the gangster genre to another recent nostalgia craze, the lounge lifestyle, embodied by the Rat Pack, Frank Sinatra’s exclusive men’s club of the ‘50s and ‘60s.

“It all looks back at a time when men could chase women, drink martinis and smoke cigarettes,” McBride says.

“Gangsters are like movie stars and sports figures,” Albrecht adds. “They lead lives that are less structured and less encumbered. For most of us, the power they have is somewhat intoxicating. . . . I think it speaks to our desire to sometimes step outside the boundaries of our own lives.”

Whatever the reasons, “The Sopranos” has been cable’s hottest show of the year. HBO estimates its average audience for an episode at 7.2 million and says its viewership has grown by half a million since the series premiered; so far seven episodes have aired.

Today’s mobster finds himself caught in a time warp; Tony Soprano and Paul Vitti are nostalgic for the power mobsters once had and yet acutely aware that the world around them has changed. They still revel in their power, but it also makes them uneasy. They have panic attacks, nightmares.

“Analyze This” mines this turf for comedy. Harold Ramis, the film’s director and co-writer, says the Mafia is but one facet of America’s “outlaw mythology, a tendency to see outlaws as good guys in a country founded by rednecks from all over the world.”

Ironically, McBride says, “The Godfather” not only revived our interest in the outlaw culture, but also the concept of the nuclear family. “The family loyalty in ‘The Godfather’ was something you could believe in,” McBride says. “At the same time it was paradoxical, because the Corleones were a crime family. By ‘Part II,’ they’d become the ultimate dysfunctional family, which could be a metaphor for an old-world family that can no longer function in the new world.”

The mobster’s basic dilemma, Chase says, is the dichotomy between the sense of unbridled freedom and the need to belong to a family unit. “As Americans we glorify loners who buck the system. It’s more than just about mobsters. It’s about the feelings of displacement that we all share.”

For Chase those contradictory feelings are the core of “The Sopranos.” The series, he says, speaks to the idea of having a family “that would defend you to the death and vice versa. The idea of having a brother who will cover your back has real appeal, not just in gangster movies, but in war movies like ‘Platoon.’ ”

‘It’s Not Just a Guy Thing’

But in both Chase’s series and “Analyze This,” the concept of a unified family under an invincible patriarch is shown as outmoded. In “The Sopranos” this is explored by examining Tony Soprano’s impact on other family members, wives, mothers, children, lovers. Even his therapist is a woman (Lorraine Bracco) for whom he is developing strong feelings.

The series, he says, actually grew out of Chase’s complicated relationship with his own mother and the need for a dramatic framework in which to examine it. Tony Soprano’s problems include having to put his obstreperous, aging mother into a home, and being constantly challenged by his therapist.

“I know that the show has a lot of appeal to women. It’s not just a guy thing,” Chase says.

Paul Vitti in “Analyze This” suffers from the same personal and professional anxieties as Tony Soprano, including sporadic and paralyzing anxiety attacks. Ramis recalls a particularly hilarious “art-imitates-life” moment while shooting a scene in which Vitti’s character has a panic attack in New York’s Little Italy. The scene included De Niro, fellow mobsters Joe Viterelli and Richard Castellano as well as a few local toughs who appear as extras.

“After Bob did his first take, he wasn’t happy. So we started talking about it. And Joe says, ‘When I have a panic attack it starts here [his stomach].’ And Castellano says, ‘Mine is more like, I start to sweat and I can’t talk.’ And another guy [an extra] says his attacks were relieved when he started taking Prozac. And I’m looking around at all these street types and they’re all having the same problem.”

Although his intentions are more ostensibly comic than “The Sopranos,” the basis for “Analyze This” grew out of Ramis’ research on the real mob. “One thing that turned up was that [real-life mobster] Frank Costello was rumored to be seeing a shrink. It was seen as a great sign of weakness and may have led to an attempt on his life by the Gambino family. When Frank was promoted to mob boss, he started hanging out with a new social set and he was deeply ashamed of his Brooklyn accent and lack of education. He had an inferiority complex and some real self-esteem issues.”

And in a roundabout way that all brings “Sopranos” and “Analyze This” full circle to “The Godfather” and Michael Corleone’s psychological dilemma. Because he chooses his father’s profession instead of striking out on his own, Michael achieves great power, but finds himself isolated from society.

“He’s doing what many people in life do, following a path of success, the classic male role,” Albrecht says. “He’s doing what he thinks a man should be doing. But his retribution is inner turmoil and to any man that’s the definition of hell on Earth.”

The difference is that “The Sopranos” and “Analyze This” offer redemption through psychotherapy, reconstituting the mobsters so that they can rejoin society. Which leaves this