James Gandolfini

by Tony Dayoub

I read it. I liked it. I thought it was good. But I thought they would have to hire some good looking guy—not George Clooney but some Italian George Clooney—and that would be that. But they called me and they said can I meet David for breakfast at 9 a.m. At the time I was younger, and I stayed out late a lot. And I was like, "Oh, for fuck's sake. This guy wants to eat breakfast? This guy's going to be a pain in the ass."

-Actor James Gandolfini on The Sopranos and its creator, David Chase

The passing of James Gandolfini yesterday came as a shock to just about everyone it seems. After hearing it, I went through the 21st century version of the five stages of grief. First, I visited reliable online news sources to confirm that the reports were indeed true. Second, I shared my sadness with Facebook friends. Then I went on Twitter to read the reactions of celebrities and journalists. Next, I scoured the cable guide for any showings of The Sopranos, a show I hadn't seen since its cancellation. And finally, I find myself here writing up whatever kind of minuscule tribute to the actor I can offer.

Movie Review: Where the Wild Things Are (2009)

by Tony Dayoub



The growing realization that childhood is finite fuels the sad Where the Wild Things Are. This means that I'm not ready for even my oldest son to see this beautifully rendered adaptation of Maurice Sendak's classic book. But Spike Jonze's film strikes me as less of an evocation of Sendak's tale than it does as a personal story for the often elusive director. It's as if one could see his therapist suggesting he draw on his own childhood issues to inform his next film, and this is what was spit out. That's not to say I wouldn't recommend the film. Actually, I believe it is a movie with rewards both large and small. But be forewarned. Those seeking the joyous celebration of innocence and thoughtless playful abandon will find the film lacking in this regard.