Paulie Review

In the sprawling, shadowy landscape of The Sopranos , where mob bosses collapse on psychiatrists’ couches and heirs apparent get whacked in a rain of gunfire, one figure remains constant. He is not the brightest. He is not the strongest. He is, however, the cockroach that will survive the nuclear winter of organized crime.

He is the only character who seems to realize that the life he leads has cosmic consequences. He just doesn't care enough to change his behavior. The final gift of The Sopranos is Paulie’s survival. In the cut-to-black finale, while we don’t know if Tony lives or dies, we know exactly where Paulie is. He is sitting in the back office of Satriale’s, alone, a stray cat on the step, looking at a future of empty chairs. Paulie

He was, and remains, the perfect gangster. Unlike the cerebral Tony or the princely John Sacramoni, Paulie never wanted the throne. He didn’t have the imagination for grand strategy or the patience for diplomacy. Paulie was a creature of the street. He rose through the ranks not through bloodlines (he was, as a hilarious subplot reveals, a "whoo-ah’s" son), but through sheer, terrifying brutality. In the sprawling, shadowy landscape of The Sopranos

Paulie defined the Sopranos ethos: "Whatever happened there." He lived by a code that was constantly shifting to benefit himself. He would clip his closest friend if the price was right, then weep at the funeral because the catering was subpar. He is, however, the cockroach that will survive