In terms of unfettered, nail-biting tension, The Weight has no equals in the rest of the season: it's a pure exercise in suspenseful storytelling, driven mostly by Vincent Curatola's fearless acting.
Curatola, having been a minor presence thus far, is finally given the opportunity to step in the spotlight, and what an opportunity: his Johnny Sack is rapidly transformed from calm New York liaison into a madly jealous man, triggered by pride and honor. The latter qualities have been metaphorically hammered by Ralph Cifaretto, who famously told a bad-taste joke two episodes back, saying John's wife Ginny was about to have a 95-pound mole removed from her butt. Now, this ain't the first time this has happened (remember the "she's so fat" gags in the previous season), but it's the first time Johnny has been made aware of the embarrassing situation, and his reaction is violent to say the least: after failing to get an authorization from his boss, Carmine Lupertazzi, he sanctions a hit on Ralphie by himself; unfortunately, the man, no matter how unlikable, is Tony's top earner, so it doesn't take long before a retaliatory hit is called on John, raising the stakes to unbearable heights.
There are hardly any laughs in this episode, apart from a few of the usual conversations between foul-mouthed gangsters, and for a good reason: humor would utterly ruin the dramatic impact of the tightly constructed script, as well as dampen the show's ever present study of moral ambiguity, which probably comes close to its peak in these 50 minutes. There's Johnny, an old-school captain who nonetheless decides to override the conventional system when he is denied his revenge; there's Tony, who personally hates Ralphie (and he isn't alone), but has no other choice than to protect him for business's sake. And there's Paulie, who feels compelled to inform John of what happened despite being no stranger to bad jokes himself: it was he who delivered the infamous "She's so fat, she goes campin', the bears have to hide their food" back in Season Three. These people are driven by personal, occasionally irrational impulses, and there are no easy answers waiting around the corner: if there were, the series wouldn't be the milestone it has rightfully become.
Curatola, having been a minor presence thus far, is finally given the opportunity to step in the spotlight, and what an opportunity: his Johnny Sack is rapidly transformed from calm New York liaison into a madly jealous man, triggered by pride and honor. The latter qualities have been metaphorically hammered by Ralph Cifaretto, who famously told a bad-taste joke two episodes back, saying John's wife Ginny was about to have a 95-pound mole removed from her butt. Now, this ain't the first time this has happened (remember the "she's so fat" gags in the previous season), but it's the first time Johnny has been made aware of the embarrassing situation, and his reaction is violent to say the least: after failing to get an authorization from his boss, Carmine Lupertazzi, he sanctions a hit on Ralphie by himself; unfortunately, the man, no matter how unlikable, is Tony's top earner, so it doesn't take long before a retaliatory hit is called on John, raising the stakes to unbearable heights.
There are hardly any laughs in this episode, apart from a few of the usual conversations between foul-mouthed gangsters, and for a good reason: humor would utterly ruin the dramatic impact of the tightly constructed script, as well as dampen the show's ever present study of moral ambiguity, which probably comes close to its peak in these 50 minutes. There's Johnny, an old-school captain who nonetheless decides to override the conventional system when he is denied his revenge; there's Tony, who personally hates Ralphie (and he isn't alone), but has no other choice than to protect him for business's sake. And there's Paulie, who feels compelled to inform John of what happened despite being no stranger to bad jokes himself: it was he who delivered the infamous "She's so fat, she goes campin', the bears have to hide their food" back in Season Three. These people are driven by personal, occasionally irrational impulses, and there are no easy answers waiting around the corner: if there were, the series wouldn't be the milestone it has rightfully become.