
Sopranos' Luxe Life: Fact
Or Fiction?
Matt
Woolsey, 04.04.07, 12:01 AM ET

In the opening credits of The Sopranos, family
boss Tony exits the New Jersey Turnpike and
blows through working class neighborhoods and industry
arriving finally at his luxurious home in North Caldwell,
N.J.
Head there, and a
stone four-bedroom house with a spacious yard, long
driveway and pool starts will run you around $1.5 million.
The median family income for the area is $125,000.
Not bad social mobility for a self-proclaimed garbage
man.
Though Tony's shady
moneymaking schemes ultimately net him enough to afford
the home, it's no secret The Sopranos, the final
season of which premieres Sunday, takes some liberties. It
is, after all, both an homage to mob culture and to
fictionalized mob mythology; Tony's character is as much
Gambino as Corleone, and his crew admires both Vincent "The
Chin" Gigante and Robert De Niro.
But because it's fiction about fact and fiction, sorting
out what creator David Chase gleaned from tabloid headlines,
court records, Francis Ford Coppola or the musings of
wiseguys is tricky business.
Cinema Verite?
The tones don't ring true for Michael Campi, acting
FBI special agent in charge of organized crime in New York,
which an FBI spokesman says "makes him the mob czar for the
whole country."
"Given [the Sopranos'] organizational and internal
problems, they seem like a broken down crew to me--I think,
How hard would it be to catch these guys?" says Campi. "In
reality the quality guys are more discreet and when they do
business, they set it up so everyone makes money."
In that regard, mobsters can be more Wall Street than
Mulberry Street, more like insider trader Ivan Boesky than
tough guy Vito Genovese.
"When there is a runaway bull market, boiler rooms pop up
all over the place to defraud investors, either selling
stocks that don't exist, or with stock recommendations that
are bought and paid for," says Tom Hazen, a law professor at
University of North Carolina Chapel Hill and an expert
state's witness in securities cases, including those of
alleged wiseguys
"[Reputed mobsters] The Marchiano brothers bought an
inactive firm called AS Goldmen in the late '90s and would
call people up and say, 'This is Goldmen calling from New
York,' " he says. "Then they'd convince people to invest the
money in what were illegitimate ventures."
Throwing His Weight Around
Tony Soprano has put liens on a few stockbrokers to
reap the benefits of inside information. The same goes for
the real mob. If an investment banker loses big betting on
the Jets, Campi says he may give illegal information to the
mob in exchange for debt relief.
"Wiseguys don't necessarily know the value of the stock,"
says Campi. "But they understand that they can make money,
so a lot of guys are interested in finding out [from
brokers] what is breaking and what chatter exists--mobsters
are in and out of the market really quick."
Translation: It's unlikely that John "Junior" Gotti is
going to be playing liar's poker with bond traders any time
soon.
Card Sharks
As represented in most mob dramas, including
The Sopranos, the bread and butter of organized crime
revenue flow remains in gambling, extortion and
construction.
Whether that's Silvio's
high-stakes poker game, or Soprano capo's building
companies, projects which involve cash transactions or
contracts that can be manipulated for kick backs are ideal
for mobsters, fictional or real.
In November 2006, as part of the NYPD's "operation rotten
apples," police broke up a gambling ring, run by alleged
associates of the Genovese crime family, out of the New York
City Terminal Produce Cooperative Market in the Bronx.
Between squeezing tomatoes and picking cabbage, police say
patrons could place bets on football or numbers betting.
As for construction, many local unions have historical
relationships with certain mob families, according to Campi.
A carpenters' local here, a masons' local there and a crime
family can ease union hiring regulations for their
constituents and steer money in their interests' directions.
Caught almost entirely on tape by the FBI, the Lucchese
and Genovese families, in the late 1990s, argued over who
had the rights to the Local 46 of the Mason Tenders Union in
New York City, according to Campi. The local was a
successful tool for extortion from construction contractors
and ownership was hotly contested between the two families.
Money changed hands, bodies hit the floor, but in the end,
the 2nd Circuit Court had the last word--in 1999 upholding
the conviction of Genovese capo James Ida for conspiracy to
control union elections by violence, court records show.
When this happens on screen, the show errs. Its law
enforcement, judges and feds all take things too seriously,
according to Campi.
"I don't like how they portray the agents--there's no
need for all the yelling," he says. "In reality the mobsters
know they're mobsters and that it's their job to break the
law and my job to arrest them. No one takes it personally,
it's business."
