Tony Soprano, modern day Henry VIII?

Preposterous! I know; I too have been there. Even though the comparison occurred to me first, my initial reaction was to laugh at it. What’s the connection? You can’t even draw one between the two actors (or can you?).

But the more I tossed the idea around in my head, the more interesting the similarities became. Merely stripping away the aesthetics of an argument leaves a tremendous amount of room to evaluate the core. And, at their core, Tony Soprano (James Gandolfini) and King Henry VIII (Jonathan Rhys Meyers) have a lot in common. Believe.

The truth is that even the two actors portraying these larger-than-life characters have commonalities. Both are native to their respective kingdoms (Gandolfini was born in New Jersey, Rhys Meyers in Ireland). While that may seem insignificant, a lot of research goes into an actor’s portrayal of another person, be they real or fiction. A natural association with their surroundings (although Rhys Meyers lives in modern times and I assume Gandolfini’s family was not mafia) adds brevity to a performance. To me, both nature and nurture play a large role in their respective success. Plus, both actors have a history in theater. Its subtle, but it bleeds through in both of their performances, making the overly dramatic more grounded and accessible. I marvel at that each and every time I watch them both.

But those facts are true for Gandolfini and Rhys Meyers the actors. What’s similar between their most recognizable characters?

Belief in God: Funny, right? Tony Soprano, God fearing man? You better believe it. Like every Italian mobster before him, Tony believes in a power that’s greater than he. No, he isn’t a regular Church-goer. Yes, he commits adultery, lies, cheats, steals, kills, etc. And you might find it amusing when he tells his wife, Carmela, “We’re Catholic. We don’t get divorced.” But, that means something to him.

For all his blustering, Tony’s not one to waste his time on dogma that he doesn’t give a second thought to. These are rules to live by for him. Does he pick and choose? Don’t we all? Yes, Tony’s comfortable looking the other way on a lot more transgressions than we might be, but I’ve never quite understood how we arbitrarily apply more or less significance to different offenses. Beyond the seven deadly sins, all trespasses against God are equally abhorrent. Yet, somehow we’ve decided that gossiping is more acceptable than robbery. So be it. Tony believes that cheating on his wife is okay, while divorcing her is not. I’m not advocating his logic; I’m just arguing that he’s picking and choosing in life the same as we all do each and every day.

And the same way that Henry VIII did. Now, there was a God fearer. Henry created a new Church because he was so afraid of angering God, that he couldn’t simply divorce his first wife Catherine and remarry; he needed to believe, however deluded it was since it was of his creation, that he was a member of a faith that allowed divorce and remarriage. And yet, he was still so afraid of crossing that line that he went to great lengths (trials, beheadings) to avoid being seen as a divorcee.

Henry was as Catholic as the Pope, but lets say that he truly did ascribe to a different belief system by the time of his death; never did he walk away from God. Instead, he built a great tribute to him in the form of the Church of England. Henry gave his people a brand new dogma in order to enrich their lives for what he saw as the better, out from under the yolk of Rome. And this from an adulterer, a greedy, power-hungry egomaniac who desecrated countless churches and abbeys that were consecrated to the service of God. Talk about picking and choosing.

Great lust for life: And not just for women. Here are two men who had insatiable appetites for all of the good that life could provide them with: money, possessions, happiness, longevity, dynasty. Henry eyed all of Europe as a potential playground for his royal whims. He desired power, over man and over God, to rule his people authoritatively both by the sword and by the good book. The ransacking of the Catholic Church’s lands was in large part a fundraising of sorts for Henry; had he seen the big picture, he would have simply re-purposed them for his own church’s use, not destroyed them and raided their treasuries.

And everything he did in life was for tomorrow; Henry was insecure as heir to a throne that his father had taken by force. The House of Tudor wasn’t solidified until the reign of his daughter, Queen Elizabeth I, long after Henry had died. He was driven to establish his dynasty, cutting down wife after wife until one could provide him with a suitable heir. That it was his daughter, and not his son, who eventually made the Tudor coat of arms legend, would surely have caused a rueful Henry to slap himself on the forehead and say “Do’h!” Or not.

Tony Soprano was born in the mold of Henry that God forgot to discard. It’s quite possible that we witnessed Tony go through more women than Henry, and that’s saying something when you’re talking about Gandolfini versus Rhys Meyers. In his life, however, Tony had to deal with modernity, a problem that Henry never faced. While Henry’s wives were incensed by his cheating, none of them were in a position to threaten him the way Carmela did Tony. And, Henry never had to hide his income from the IRS. Tony spends his life grabbing for more, only to have to hide it in the closet and save it in the event that his world comes crashing down around him. The desire for more is constant, but its tangible affect on Tony’s life is mostly negligible. Another piece of jewelry for the wife, another toy for his son, AJ.

And, talk about being let down by the son: The Soprano’s future is in the hands of Tony’s daughter, Meadow. As old world as Tony might be, the difference between him and Henry on this issue is that Tony can not only imagine a world where a woman can excel, his pride is the success of his daughter. That’s a lesson that Henry could have used.

Believe me, there’s more to mine between these two characters, but I’m curious to see what you have to say. Strip away the outside, and look at the men: couldn’t you just see Gandolfini’s Tony sitting on a throne in gilded robes? Or Rhys Meyers’ (not history’s) King Henry VIII running a crew out of Jersey? What do you think?

Clacked by Aryeh S.
on Apr 28, 2009 @ 13:00 EST5EDT