I thought either chocolate or shit. Couldn’t decide which. Definitely something brown and pasty, though 
It’s ambiguous. In a literal sense, The Thing He Has To Do is kill his coach. It’s a recurring nightmare for him. Symbolically, though-- I think it is his way of restoring his family life. The coach is the archetype of Authority for Tony. What does the task of killing him represent? For Tony, police, government,and the usual suspects aren’t Authority – they’re pissant obstacles that need getting around. For Tony, the only Authority is the code he was brought up in. On some level he knows that he’s on a self-destructive path, and the only way out is to turn his back on the old Tony. Stop being a leader. Walk away from the life. This is also reflected in his teeth falling out. Teeth are made for rending flesh. Same with the bullets turning to shit. (Definitely shit – you don’t gag when you’ve got chocolate on your fingers.) Like Tony told Carmella, he’s “a kind of a coach” himself. He has to kill that part of himself. Remember the “homework” he’d done on how to do the job? The Valachi Papers. About a man who’s driven to cooperate with the FBI to stay alive.
When Tony was running from the mob (erm-- enraged villagers, whatever,) did you notice anything familiar about the fellow that fired at him from the window? I’m pretty sure that was supposed to be this guy. Loops back on Camelot, and underlines Tony’s anxiety about what inevitably happens to folks in leadership positions in Tony’s circle. 
Ah, hell-- I want to watch this episode again, now.
Just for the hell of it, here’s a framegrab of the alley shooter.
I guess it could be just a generic guy in a white t-shirt, but it looks to me like he has a shiner, too. Dammit, I can’t wait for the DVD set!
Interesting interpretation, but I didn’t see it that way. The coach represented, in my view, Tony’s conscience. The Coach needles Tony, telling him he could have been a good leader, a moral family man, productive, but he’s fallen into bad company and is a failure. He keeps telling Tony that he’s not prepared to be a functional adult, he’s still a stupid kid making the same mistakes he’s always made.
I think the Coach’s point is that Tony really isn’t a leader, something that Carmela hit on earlier in the season: no one follows Tony out of love, respect, or admiration. They are flunkies who fear him and laugh at his jokes, but who would (and did, as in the Adriana incident) turn on him in a second. Is that leadership? Tony has come to question that recently, and the Coach is just reinforcing that belief. He had the potential to be a great leader, but he squandered it.
I agree-- upon my second viewing, I realized that it was definitely shit.
And Carmela says, “Well, that’s one way of looking at it” or something to that effect, as if she’s skeptical of his self-identification as a coach. She also casts doubt onto his cynical assertion that the Coach didn’t really care about him.
I think the Coach was the only wholesome father figure Tony ever had. Since this is a show about a damaged psyche in therapy, let me be all Freudian for a second. The superego is the “voice of the Father,” the source of all morality, the inner voice that tells us right from wrong. Tony never really had moral guidance, so his moral development is seriously retarded, but he does have the marginalized and reviled voice of Coach Molinaro speaking out of his unconscious (the Basement of everyone’s mind).
Tony hears that voice of his other father when he doubts his abilities as a leader, when he feels impotent and weak. It’s not welcome, but he said it recurs, so I suspect this struggle, with all its attendant panic and rationalization cycles, will always haunt him. Hence the “you’ll never shut me up!” concluding line.
But who is the “bad company” that he’s referring to? Maybe not the idea of bad company that you and I have. Remember how time gets rearranged in dreams. “What did I tell you? ‘Cleave yourself away from those bums you hang with’, I said … You all listened to that pissmeyer Arthur Bucco-- he was the worst of the bunch, I told you that.” This is all in past tense. Tony is defensive about Artie. “He owns a restaurant! He’s doing great!” The coach doesn’t buy it, though.
Artie is Tony’s friend on the outside – a guy with a normal life. He had a wife who did everything she could to keep him out of Tony’s mess. Could this be why Tony is fixating on her now?
That’s funny… I think the coach is Tony’s superego, too – but I don’t think the superego is necessarily wholesome. It’s the part of your psyche that is received from the culture you’re raised in.
Carmella is thinking of the real coach, though. Tony has put the coach’s face on something less tangible. They’re talking past each other, because to Tony, the coach has become a quasi-mythical figure --an archetype. To Carmella, he’s just nice old Coach Molinaro.
I can see Tony’s conscience speaking through the coach (as well as through other people that figured in the dream,) but I don’t think he was a representation of his conscience, if you follow me. When the coach says “I see you on the TV. Some show you put on-- the five o’clock news,” Tony’s response is “Then you realize I’ve got nothing to apologize to you for.” That doesn’t make sense if he’s speaking to his conscience.
Back to Artie as a connection to a normal “civilian” life, Tony dreams that he meets Finn’s parents in Vesuvio’s. Not coincidental, that-- the first question that Annette Bening asks after the initial introductions is “How’s the food here?” Carmella responds with a casual non sequitur: “Pretty good. We went to high school with the owner and his wife.” Annette’s next question (to Tony) is “How long can you stay?” This whole episode in Vesuvio’s is about domestic happiness. Meadow and Finn and the Vitrolios have it turned up to eleven. The tooth thing is elaborated here. Everyone agrees that Finn won’t amount to much. “If it wasn’t for his Tooth Fairy money, he’d have nothing.” This is contrasted with the preceeding remark that they “know all about” Tony and “think it’s great.” Tooth Fairy money. Money that you get after losing teeth. (Teeth that bite – murderous aggression.) We’re talking legitimate income. This makes Tony very uncomfortable, and while this exchange takes place, he’s staring longingly at Charmaine Bucco’s tits as she grinds some fresh pepper for him.
It’s Artie that signals him that the gun is supposed to be in the bathroom.
It’s Artie that spirits him away from the angry mob.
Suddenly he’s in bed with Charmaine with Artie cheering him on, and just as suddenly the horse’s hoofbeats transport him back to his own livingroom with Carmella, where he says “I think I want to come home.” After the horse/whores exchange Tony looks at his watch, and Carmella is surprised. “You didn’t take care of that?”
Earlier, when he’d been in the car with his dad, Ralphie, Big Pussy, and Artie, Ralphie said that they were “driving him to the job,” and he found himself at home, late for the dinner date with Finn’s parents.
The job is clearly supposed to be a path to a restored domestic life – and it’s intrinsically bound up with his friend who made a life for himself outside of the criminal clique. The act itself takes the form of pulling the trigger on the coach, which is something that he’s been struggling with for some time, but has always found himself “unprepared” for.
This is why I think the coach represents Tony’s criminal Authority, which he must kill in order to gain personal peace. He’s been raised his whole life to think of straight citizens like Artie as chumps, and that smart guys took what they wanted by force. How can he reconcile that with how miserable his life has made him?
Apart from that-- something from after the dream… (I don’t think the entire episode was a dream, as has been hypothesized above – The Sopranos always has a dreamlike feeling – the writers take advantage of the pyschotherapy theme to make gleeful use of arcane symbolism.) Anyway… I think Christopher and the Toblerone might have some significance. Christopher looks at it on the table, and the camera rests on it for several seconds, allowing you to note that the package has been peeled back so that it just reads OBLERONE. Then Christopher looks up – apparantly at the ceiling, and says “Nice suite, T.” Tony shakes his head briefly, and just continues to sit on the edge of the bed with his head down. Christopher wraps up. “Anyway, I just thought you should know.” Then he gestures at the chocolate and asks Tony if he’s going to eat it. Tony seems disgusted by it, almost. “No, take it.”
First, “Nice suite” seems like another homophonic pun like horse/whores. Tony’s reaction underlines how the fruits of his criminal enterprise bring him no real pleasure. His surroundings don’t impress him. Christopher likes them, though. Tony compulsively opened the chocolate, but set it down without taking a bite. Christopher took it – with the “T” removed from the label, seconds after calling his boss “T.”
Now that Tony B. has fucked up beyond all expectations, Christopher is “Cousin #1” again. Is the candy bar exchange foreshadowing of a line of succession? One way or another, Tony isn’t going to hold the title for much longer-- he’s either going to make a radical change, or he’s going to die.
Great analysis, Larry. Very thought-provoking.
There is the possibility that Tony looks at Artie’s life and sees another miserable guy, who actually had a good wife who left him, who has business trouble, who is used by the Mob, but who doesn’t have all the luxuries and advantages that being in the Mob confers. For instance, Tony has the whores/horse (with which Charmaine is equated–her muzzle needs to be stroked, which sends a mixed message about how highly Tony considers her; maybe he is incapable of seeing women as anything but whores), whereas Artie is watching another guy do his wife, even offers her. I don’t think Artie is held up as a paragon in this dream. In fact, he’s egging Tony on to do “the job,” as are all the other “pissmeyers” in his life.
Maybe he’s fixated on Artie because Artie is a source of guilt-- he burned down Vesuvio’s, slept with his wife, is thinking about doing it again, doesn’t pay his tab, etc. Artie is a doormat; I think he sees Artie as a loser and fears being like him: impotent, always serving Tony and subservient to him.
I think that Tony has twisted Coach Molinaro, it’s true. It’s the part of Tony that believes he’s a failure despite his many “successes” and criticizes him for being weak. Tony has internalized that voice, partially because the superego is the part that judges us, partially because he recognized the Coach’s love for him and desire for his true success and he regrets not listening to him. Probably Coach was one of the few authority figures who ever encouraged him to do something legal and fulfilling with his life, hence his continued habitation of Tony’s unconscious.
I interpreted that exchange differently: Tony claims that he’s only acting certain ways “for show” on several occasions this season and in the dream. For instance, he says he was just “shining on” the Coach, pretending to be someone he’s not, and the Coach was bullshitting him too. Tony’s claiming that the Tony Soprano who is on the news is not the “real” Tony Soprano, that the real Tony is a leader, a husband, a success, whose conscience should not be affected by all the things he does for show.
Consider all the references to fakeness, acting, and pretending: Gloria says he’s fooling his therapist, he admits to fooling the Coach, he tries to act out Michael Corleone’s bathroom scene, Annette Bening, an actress, is going to be his in-law, Tony B. shoots Phil with his finger and Phil pretends to be dead, he’s on TV showing off, he’s in a scene from Frankenstein, etc. The contrast between what’s real and what isn’t is a big theme in this dream, and I think it reflects Tony’s difficulty in seeing himself as he really is and understanding the true nature of his life. He is, simply put, in denial about his screwed up, fake existence, and powerless to change it (hence the myriad impotence images).
This jibes for me with the exchange with Makasian in the bathroom, where he goes for the gun, it’s not there, so he can’t “do the job.” Artie wants him to be the hero, the Michael Corleone, who commits a violent act for a heroic reason and is sucked into a life of crime despite being a basically good person. The Godfather is a story that Tony and his friends worship, and he sees his life as trying to re-enact that mythological story, replete with the rationalizing image of himself, a fake image. When the gun isn’t there, he tells Vin that’s what happens in “real life”: the dramatic, violent act isn’t real, it doesn’t happen, it can be avoided. Vin says, “no it’s not”-- meaning, you won’t be saved from having to act, and the violence is real. You will have to shoot, and if you don’t, you’re an impotent loser who has no “piece” (a homphobic pun on Tony having no “peace”?). The idea that you might be able to get out of it is a dream.
*The Valachi Papers * backs up this idea: as if Tony’s not “really” in the mob, but he did his homework by reading this book detailing all the inner workings of the Mafia, so he can fake his way through it. It seems like Tony is in massive denial about how he’s lived his life and wants to believe, like Frankenstein’s monster, that he’s made of bad parts, misunderstood and persecuted, but he can escape… though he winds up escaping to his whores/horse, another problem.
I agree. Notice that Artie is not experiencing domestic happiness in this scene-- his wife is popping out of her blouse at him, with that big pepper mill in his face.
Is it Vitrolio or DiTrolio/DiTroglio? I can’t find it written anywhere.
Is Artie a Virgil type figure, who leads Tony through the dream but is too flawed to be saved himself? The gun is supposed to be in the bathroom, but it’s not-- Artie the Pissmeyer (which may be how Tony really sees Artie, though he denies in on the surface) steers him wrong. He sees Artie as looking up to him, wanting him to be Michael, letting him be with his wife, etc.–Artie is a loser in this dream, debatably so in life.
I find this a compelling argument, except that to me, Artie is not held up as a figure to be emulated or admired. Also, Artie isn’t outside the criminal clique-- he’s always been on the edge, taken advantage of, occasionally getting sucked in, but never reaping the big benefits of being associated with the Mafia. I think the dinner is another show, that the faking that Tony feels comprises his life is “the job,” as the dream offers one occasion for fakeness after another, one false ending after another. He’s sick of it and wants to end the part of him that causes him to distinguish, to realize the fakeness-- the Coach, the Superego, the moral compass and the awareness of his true nature and lost possibilities.
Then why does the Coach tell Tony that he could have been a leader of men, a success as a coach like him, but he opted for this degenerate life, no wife, no integrity, showing off on TV? The Coach seems to be judging the emptiness of Tony’s so-called success, pointing out the meaninglessness and hollowness of his existence. I’d have to agree with the Coach, and I think Tony knows it and wants to destroy that voice that makes it impossible for him to kick back and enjoy the fruits of his labors. Do the job, play the part fully, be ruthless, find the gun and shoot it, embrace the life you’ve chosen.
But without your teeth and your gun, then your clip falling out and being full of shit, it’s pretty hard to pull off.
Brilliant! I doff my hat to you for little analysis.
Notice that Annette Bening and Artie Bucco are both AB’s? I thought that was an interesting coincidence, or maybe I’m stretching too far there.
I meant to say, “for that little Toblerone analysis” but obviously, I need to preview.