Whoever Did This — Why The Many Saints of Newark Was the Worst Movie of the Year

Well, if you want to keep it short, you can finally stop believing.

After the lights came on in the theater, so many clichés permeated like a conversation at a bar. Be careful what you wish for, never say never, and expect the worst, but hope for the best all came to mind. Yet, the one broken trite and truth derived from the zombie of arguably the greatest eighty-six episodes of television ever is, legends do actually die.

The Sopranos was as mystical and scintillating as a phoenix, the mythical creature known for rising from the ashes, but in the Twilight Zone years of the early century, it’s almost too apropos that the bird that burned brighter than any of its predecessors or successors would fade into dust.

David Chase, the godfather that parlayed a writing credit on a forgotten detective show into a series that will one day be watched on Mars, was somehow the same man who was responsible for the biggest cinematic disappointment of my life.

The interesting thing about Chase is, he worked in TV most of his life, but he always had his sights set on making movies. The nut-thought that would birth HBO’s biggest hit was originally pitched as a film. Unfortunately for David and seemingly no one else, it just wasn’t in the cards, and…