
“Marco Polo” is about two regrettable but inevitable reunions: Tony and Carmela Soprano, and Tony Blundetto and the Mafia. Though their storylines end in very different places, both Carm and Tony B.’s decisions to return to what’s known rather than what’s right are driven by the same impulses: material precarity, the sunk cost fallacy, and the fact that — as with most of the self-destructive mistakes we see throughout the run of The Sopranos — the bad choice is simply easier than any possible alternative.
Tony B.’s return to hitman work leads him into horrifying territory, but it’s hard not to empathize with his desire to claw his way out of his current circumstances. He’s terminally short on money — though, like Carm earlier in the episode, not short enough to accept a cash gift from Tony. His general financial stress is amplified by the fact that he needs to provide for his twin boys, even as he resents their burgeoning, Soprano-inspired materialism. And the pressure to provide for his twins is exacerbated by the fact that he’s already suffered one child’s departure from his life, as Meadow reminds us. (Semi-relatedly, I love Meadow’s genuine affection for Tony B., which echoes her initial admiration for Janice. She is desperate to have just one family member who shares her worldview.)
Tony B.’s deeply flawed effort to take care of the twins does not reflect the same monetary negotiation of the parent-child dynamic that Tony Soprano and his children enact. While Tony sometimes lords his kids’ dependency over their heads (especially Meadow’s), providing for them is something he relishes rather than stresses out about. But we’ve also never seen Tony in a truly precarious position, even when money seemed tight at the beginning of season four. Watching Tony B. struggle (and ultimately fail) to find a balance between wanting his children to be better people and wanting to give them a better life — and having a limited toolset at his disposal for both — makes obvious the work Tony Soprano has done to put that moral calculus at the outer edges of his consciousness.
While Carmela isn’t nearly as cash-strapped as Tony B., she’s lost access to the life she’s grown accustomed to — which is aggressively underlined by all the wealth-flaunting throughout the episode: Tony’s generous gift to Hugh, the “I’m Little Carmine and this is my crib” opening sequence, Johnny Sack showing off his fresh Maserati. Even though these moments are highkey midlife crisis tragic, they’re a kind of midlife crisis tragic that no woman in this particular clan could achieve on her own. Even Angie Bonpensiero, who’s doing about as well as a single woman could, flounders, unable to fully extricate herself from this community but also incapable of pursuing a relationship that might let her re-establish full membership within it.
But Carm never encounters Angie in the course of this episode — though Tony connects the two with his flimsy argument that he’s gouging Angie because Carm is gouging him (she’s not) — so it’s not like a direct fear of struggling like Angie drives her back into Tony’s arms. Though that ambient anxiety isn’t a non-factor, Tony’s presence makes Carm’s life simpler in ways that go beyond the financial. Being single doesn’t suit her, especially now that she knows she’s blown her shot with Wegler. Tony has deep relationships with her family, and separation forces her to renegotiate those relationships while redefining their marriage. And, even though he shows up at the last minute with all his usual bluster and bullshit, Tony is the only person whose help with the party doesn’t seem to put more work and stress on her plate.
Like the constant reminders of who does and does not have money to burn, I don’t think it’s an accident that there’s so much of Carm’s parents in this episode. Yes, their presence gives more insight into why she’s like this; her mom gets confirmed as the source of Carm’s obsession with appearing more sophisticated than she really is. But I think it’s equally important that, even though they drive her and one another crazy with their old-person nonsense (and oh wow do they bring Enormous My Grandparents Energy to all their scenes), they’re clearly in it for the long haul. While Tony spurs their reunion by harkening back to an idyllic, horny teenage past, Carm ultimately gives in because she’s terrified of an unpredictable future.