Michael Gandolfini Worries About Brawn and Bravado

On a recent afternoon, the actor Michael Gandolfini ascended an escalator to Whitehall Terminal to take the twelve-thirty ferry to Staten Island. Packs of tourists mingled with commuters and a few stray pigeons in the waiting hall. “It’s popping, always,” Gandolfini said admiringly.

Gandolfini, who is a boyish twenty-five, said that he grew up primarily “in the meatpacking district, when they were, like, hanging pigs and cows.” He had never been to Staten Island until he was cast as Daniel Blake, an aide to the thuggish New York City mayor Wilson Fisk, on the Marvel Television show “Daredevil: Born Again.” “They said, ‘Look, he’s a Trump supporter, he’s politically blind, he’s very ambitious, and he’s really from Staten Island,’ ” Gandolfini said, describing the character notes he was given. For research, he spent a week in the borough trailing a firefighter friend—“I went to a lot of bars”—and rode the ferry into the city amid the 5 A.M. office-worker crush. “There’s the backdrop of this amazing skyline, and the sun is rising, and everyone’s just miserable,” he said. One plus: the ferry is free. “It’s the only thing in New York City history whose price has actually gone down,” he said.

Boarding began. Gandolfini stepped onto the ferry, Spirit of America, and chose an outdoor bench, portside. He was dressed in a dadcore ensemble of rumpled jeans, work boots, and a broken-in leather jacket. Around his neck hung a St. Michael medal, which he was given at birth. The sky was blue, the winds springish. As the boat passed Governors Island, he reminisced about his preparations for other roles. For the movie “Cherry,” in which he played a veteran from Cleveland, he posed as a prospective transfer student to infiltrate a local high school. “I was just young enough, and the bags under my eyes weren’t as dark,” he explained.

More recently, he appeared in “Warfare,” a movie directed by Alex Garland and Ray Mendoza, a former Navy SEAL, based on Mendoza’s experience in Iraq in 2006, during the Battle of Ramadi. Each character was modelled on a real person; Gandolfini played Lieutenant McDonald, a member of the Marines’ Air Naval Gunfire Liaison Company. Castmates lodged together in Tring, England, before the shoot, to undergo a version of boot camp. “My dad”—the actor James Gandolfini, best known for playing Tony in the HBO drama “The Sopranos”—“passed away when I was young, and I was around a lot of women my whole life, so that side of masculinity was quite uncomfortable and nerve-wracking,” Gandolfini said. He worried about brawn and bravado: “Are we going to have, like, boxing matches?” But the vibes were more bromance than “Fight Club.” “It was such an incredible experience to be in a group of healthy men,” he said.

The ferry pulled into port. Gandolfini headed to a Starbucks with water views and ordered a shaken iced espresso. As a kid, he was obsessed with Elvis, then with “Grease.” He saw “Wicked” on Broadway six times. (The movie adaptation? “Loved it.”) “The Sopranos” premièred four months before Gandolfini was born. “I was very protected from it,” he said. He spent summers mowing lawns in New Jersey; he wasn’t allowed to see his dad perform. Still, the acting bug bit.

In 2021, he starred in the “Sopranos” prequel, “The Many Saints of Newark,” as the teen-age Tony. “I had rejected the show for my whole life,” he said. After he was cast, he watched the series for the first time with his “bonus dads”—the actors Chris Bauer and Jon Bernthal—and a notepad. “I did a big time line so I could understand everything,” he said. “Tony—I played him for two months. But the thing that struck me is how bipolar he is. You’re reaching a high sense of anger masked with intense depression.” Gandolfini doesn’t do Method: “Everyone’s over it.” Acting, for him, is a kind of reverse osmosis. “If you play someone who’s cyclically angry, your anger patterns in your brain, they’re just easier, more acceptable,” he said. “I knew that, for my dad, it was all real. You can feel it.”

Back on the water, Gandolfini gazed at the Statue of Liberty. In high school, he had done a stint in Los Angeles. Palm trees and positivity? They can have it. “You could never do this in L.A.,” he reflected. “If you want to hike, sure. But think about it. You come on here. You’re depressed. You look out over the water, thinking about how much you hate your life.” The water sparkled. Manhattan loomed. “It’s perfect.” ♦