This show left such a bad taste in my mouth I don’t even feel like writing about it. What it amounts to basically is a 90-minute sentimental look back at a Mafia kingpin named Sonny. This was a man who murdered people in cold blood, yet Chazz Palminteri in this autobiographical show presents him as a patron saint.
I don’t understand this glorification of the Mafia, but I was in the minority last night. The audience loved it. I wonder how a play would go over if it presented fond memories of any of the men accused of some of the sensational crimes in our area recently, those who raped and murdered the young women they met in bars or the two accused of holding the Connecticut family hostage, raping the mother and 11-year-old daughter before killing them and the 17-year-old daughter and setting the house on fire. Murder is murder. This play is a disgusting waste of theatre space.
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