Television Review: The Fleshy Part of the Thigh (The Sopranos, S6X04, 2006)

The Fleshy Part of the Thigh (S06E04)

Airdate: April 2nd 2006

Written by: Diane Frolov & Andrew Schneider
Directed by: Alan Taylor

Running Time: 57 minutes

Emerging from the metaphysical haze of Tony Soprano’s coma-induced purgatory, the fourth episode of The Sopranos’ final season, The Fleshy Part of the Thigh, initially presents itself as a return to the show’s procedural rhythms. Gone are the surreal, existential corridors of Tony’s near-death visions; in their place lies the grubby reality of hospital beds, mob turf wars, and familial reckonings. Yet this veneer of “normalcy” is laced with the same existential unease that defined the coma saga. Directed by Alan Taylor and written by Diane Frolov and Andrew Schneider, spouses and veterans of late 20th Century broadcast television, the episode is a masterclass in balancing crime drama mechanics with incisive social critique, even as it occasionally buckles under the weight of its thematic ambitions.

Confined to a hospital bed, Tony Soprano (James Gandolfini) is physically diminished but psychologically undimmed. His survival of Junior’s shooting has cemented his mythic status within the DiMeo family, yet his frailty—raspy voice, pallid complexion—serves as a reminder of mortality’s inevitability. The episode’s central plot revolves around the death of Dick Barone, owner of a waste management firm long used as front for Tony’s illicit activities. Barone’s son, Jason (Chris Diamantopoulos), a ski instructor estranged from New Jersey’s underworld, inherits the company and naively sells it to rival businessman Chucky Chinelli (Michael DeNigris), unaware of its ties to the DiMeos. Chinelli’s allegiance to the Lupertazzi family ignites a turf war, with Jason caught in the crossfire.

The resolution—a brokered compromise—is classic Sopranos: violence is deferred but never dissolved. Jason is later beaten and extorted by Paulie (Tony Sirico) for Paulie’s personal reasons, becoming collateral damage in a system where loyalty is transactional and power is territorial. Tony’s hospital room transforms into a command centre, his raspy threats underscoring that authority, even in convalescence, is non-negotiable.

The episode’s emotional core lies in Paulie’s devastating reckoning with his past. Visiting his aunt Dottie (Judith Malina), a nun on her deathbed, he learns she is his biological mother—the product of a wartime affair with a U.S. soldier named Russ. The revelation shatters Paulie’s self-conception: his cherished Italian heritage is a fiction, invalidating his identity as a “made man.” Sirico delivers a career-defining performance, oscillating between rage and vulnerability as he confronts Nucci, the woman he believed to be his mother. Paulie’s crisis is more than familial betrayal; it is an existential unmooring. The Mafia’s obsession with bloodline purity—a relic of its pseudo-feudal code—renders him a fraud in his own eyes. His subsequent extortion of Jason Barone, ostensibly to fund Nucci’s nursing home, becomes a desperate bid to reclaim agency. Yet the gesture is tinged with irony: Paulie perpetuates the cycle of exploitation that defined his upbringing, proving that trauma, like power, is inherited.

The episode’s titular subplot—a deal between Bobby Baccalieri (Steve Schirripa) and aspiring rapper Marvin (Anthony “Treach” Criss)—serves as a grotesque satire of authenticity. Marvin, part of the entourage of DaLux (Lord Jamar), genuine rapper being treated for gunshot wounds in the same hospital as Tony, seeks “street cred” through a staged shooting, mirroring the Mafia’s own mythmaking. Bobby, eager to atone for failing to handle Uncle Junior and prevent Tony’s shooting, agrees but botches the job, shooting Marvin in the buttocks (“the fleshy part of the thigh”) over a payment dispute. The sequence, while darkly comic, lays bare the hollow theatrics of both hip-hop bravado and mobster machismo. Violence becomes a commodity, a performance stripped of meaning. Bobby’s incompetence—he cannot even shoot straight—underscores the absurdity of these codes, suggesting that in a media-saturated age, identity is as curated as an Instagram feed.

Frolov and Schneider use Tony’s hospitalisation to dissect America’s socio-political fissures. The profit-driven healthcare system is skewered through absurdist bureaucracy:. A scathing critique of racial prejudice surfaces when Tony grumbles about being treated by the “United Colors of Benetton”—a snide reference to the multicultural hospital staff—only to discover that the sole white authority figure, an alluring “Utilization Review Coordinator” (Jennifer Morrison, uncredited), exists solely to cut costs by discharging patients prematurely.

Yet the episode also gestures toward reconciliation. In a standout scene, Tony bonds with DaLux and elderly patient John Schwinn (Hal Holbrook), a former Bell Labs engineer, over a boxing match and discussions of quantum physics. Schwinn’s musings transcend race and generation, offering a fleeting glimpse of shared humanity. It’s a rare moment of grace in a series steeped in cynicism, suggesting that common ground can exist even in the unlikeliest of spaces.

The episode flirts with the possibility of Tony’s transformation. A born-again Christian, Bob Brewster (Rob Devaney), proselytises at his bedside, but Tony—remembering his Catholic upbringing and flanked by Jewish confidant Hesh (Jerry Adler)—rejects Brewster’s literalism. The scene, while heavy-handed, crystallises the series’ scepticism toward facile redemption. Brewster’s fundamentalism is rendered as another racket, a spiritual grift as hollow as the Mafia’s honour code. Tony’s dismissal—rooted in childhood dinosaur fascination—reflects Hollywood’s perennial distrust of evangelicalism, reducing complex faith to anti-intellectual caricature. Yet the moment also underscores Tony’s resistance to any ideology demanding surrender; he is, as ever, a man who believes in nothing but himself.

The Fleshy Part of the Thigh is a triumph of tonal balance, weaving familial drama, social critique, and existential angst into a cohesive whole. Frolov and Schneider’s script, while occasionally didactic, showcases the series’ knack for layering personal and political narratives. Taylor’s direction—restrained yet evocative—ensures that even the hospital’s fluorescent sterility feels charged with menace.

Yet the episode’s brilliance is tempered by its fatalism. Paulie’s reconciliation with Nucci, Tony’s smirk as he dismisses Brewster, Bobby’s bungled violence—all signal a return to stasis. The DiMeo family, like America itself, remains trapped in cycles of exploitation and self-delusion. As the series hurtles toward its infamous finale, The Fleshy Part of Thigh stands as a poignant reminder: in the world of The Sopranos, there are no fresh starts, only variations on decay.

RATING: 7/10 (+++)

Blog in Croatian https://draxblog.com
Blog in English https://draxreview.wordpress.com/
InLeo blog https://inleo.io/@drax.leo

InLeo: https://inleo.io/signup?referral=drax.leo
Hiveonboard: https://hiveonboard.com?ref=drax
Rising Star game: https://www.risingstargame.com?referrer=drax
1Inch: https://1inch.exchange/#/r/0x83823d8CCB74F828148258BB4457642124b1328e

BTC donations: 1EWxiMiP6iiG9rger3NuUSd6HByaxQWafG
ETH donations: 0xB305F144323b99e6f8b1d66f5D7DE78B498C32A7
BCH donations: qpvxw0jax79lhmvlgcldkzpqanf03r9cjv8y6gtmk9