Latest news with #Sopranos
Metro
5 days ago
- Entertainment
- Metro
Kool & The Gang legend Michael Sumler dies 'in car crash' aged 71
Michael Sumler, longtime member of funk and R&B group Kool & the Gang, has died at the age of 71. Sumler – also known as 'Chicago Mike' – was behind the wheel of his car in Cobb Country, Georgia, on Saturday evening when he collided with another vehicle, according to Fox 5 Atlanta. The outlet report that he died at the scene. Sumler, who spent over three decades with Kool & The Gang, is being remembered as the 'life of the party'. 'He was the hype guy out of the group, getting the audience going,' said Greg Williams of Switch Entertainment. 'He always wanted to see other people succeed in the business that he'd been around most of all of his life,' Adrian Meeks of Song Source Music Group told Fox 5. 'He was the bridge, you know, for inspiring artists and songwriters and producers and musicians to the legends.' More Trending Mableton's Mayor Michael Owens released a statement on Facebook in the wake of his death. 'We are saddened by the death of musician Michael Sumler,' he wrote . ''Chicago Mike' contributed so much to the music and entertainment communities. 'His style and energy added flare and excitement to Kool and the Gang for decades. The city of Mableton, council members and I join his family, friends and fans in mourning his loss.' This is a breaking news story, more to follow soon… Check back shortly for further updates. If you've got a celebrity story, video or pictures get in touch with the entertainment team by emailing us celebtips@ calling 020 3615 2145 or by visiting our Submit Stuff page – we'd love to hear from you. For more stories like this, check our entertainment page. Follow Entertainment on Twitter and Facebook for the latest celeb and entertainment updates. You can now also get articles sent straight to your device. Sign up for our daily push alerts here. MORE: Brad Pitt breaks silence on finalising 8-year divorce battle with Angelina Jolie MORE: Kings of Leon forced to cancel UK and European tour after 'freak accident' MORE: Lindsay Lohan wants her own version of the Sopranos after quitting Netflix rom-coms
Wall Street Journal
22-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Wall Street Journal
‘Gandolfini' Review: The Man Behind the Mob Boss
Starting out, James Gandolfini was willing to consider all sorts of theatrical roles, but he did not want to play a mafioso. Having grown up in an Italian-American family in blue-collar New Jersey, he was loath to disappoint his parents. 'He felt like his mom and dad had both worked too hard making sure their kids got a good education to end up playing, you know, somebody that was not representing Italians very well,' Jason Bailey quotes an old friend saying of the actor in 'Gandolfini,' a snappy and tactful biography subtitled 'Jim, Tony, and the Life of a Legend.' Fate, of course, had other plans. Imposing and magnetic, Gandolfini (1961-2013) was offered tough-guy roles as soon as he started looking for work. He was an actor on the rise when he came to the attention of David Chase, the creator of 'The Sopranos,' who was casting for a lead for his new television series. Mr. Chase, who had visualized Robert De Niro playing the violent, conflicted, charismatic Tony Soprano, wasn't immediately sold on Gandolfini. He liked a couple of other candidates, and he worried that that the actor, who already had a reputation, would be 'a pain in the ass on set.' But no other contender quite matched the darkness and sense of realness that Gandolfini brought to the role. Gandolfini's combination of twinkling charm and dead-eyed menace helped make 'The Sopranos' a hit. The show ran on HBO for six seasons, over the course of 86 episodes spread out over 8½ years starting in 1999. It is widely regarded as having inaugurated a new golden age of cinematic television, making possible a torrent of TV series with gritty performances, top-drawer writing and high production values, including 'The Wire,' 'Breaking Bad' and 'Mad Men.' 'The Sopranos' had an ensemble cast, but like the fictional family and crime syndicate the show depicted, it needed Gandolfini as both anchor and prime mover. In the role of Tony Soprano, a mobster having a midlife crisis, Gandolfini could toggle between geniality and aggression with terrifying speed. Prone to gaining weight that was good for throwing around on screen, he was, according to an early colleague, 'a sweetheart of a guy—but you could tell that there's a sharp edge on the other end of that thing, too.'
Yahoo
19-05-2025
- Business
- Yahoo
Beloved NYC Italian Restaurant 'Rescued' Before Unfortunate Closing
Changing trends and emerging industries have made life hard for restaurant owners, and the effects are being felt all across the country. One of New York City's favorite Italian restaurants was nearly forced to close due to new development in its area, but a last-minute change will allow them to remain in business. In January, Nino's Ristorante announced that it would need to close its location in Manhattan in June. A 23-story, 148-unit building is planned for the restaurant's original location, and the developers planned to demolish the current site of the restaurant. Nino's will live on, as owner Nino Selimaj told Eater that the Italian staple has moved to a new location, occupying what was previously a French restaurant elsewhere on First Avenue. The original Nino's is now closed, giving Selimaj time to shift his business to the new location while acquiring documentation like a liquor license. Clint Eastwood, Angela Lansbury, Chris Noth, Chelsea Clinton and late "Sopranos" star James Gandolfini have all visited Nino's over the years. Classic Italian-American fare is on the menu, as dishes like baked clams, homemade ravioli, rigatoni alla vodka, and chicken Parmesan rank among fan favorites. Many restaurants around the country are dealing with an uncertain future, especially after customer habits changed following the pandemic. Establishments that traditionally relied on in-person diners for the bulk of their business have suffered since the rise of delivery apps like DoorDash and UberEats. Restaurants that do well with delivery orders are also not always able to reap the benefits, as they owe the third-party delivery services a cut of their profits. Nino's is an example of a restaurant that has been able to adjust to adversity, but several others haven't been as fortunate. Eater reported that multiple Italian American restaurants have had to close in New York City, including Frost in Williamsburg and Tomasso in Bensonhurst. We've seen restaurants take on a new life of their own after changing themes or adjusting the menu. Some restaurants have even brought back fan-favorite foods or aesthetics. Now we'll see if Nino's can re-establish itself after moving just before the demolition plans were set in place.
Sydney Morning Herald
16-05-2025
- Sydney Morning Herald
The day the hitman was hit
Kath wisely took her time, and Alphonse escaped. In what would be a pattern, Flannery started as the paid help, then bullied his way into management, becoming a partner in Mickey's. The main shareholder was Ron Feeney, who was shifty as a rat. He would tell police: 'After Flannery had bought the shares, things started to go wrong. His wife, Kathy, came to work there, and the takings started to drop.' It became a habit of Flannery's (short) life – always wanting more. Now he wanted to become an underworld assassin. Feeney said Flannery had come to him for advice. Flannery: 'If you had to get rid of a body, what would be the best way?' Feeney: 'Take it 10 miles out in the bay and dump it.' Flannery: 'No, I reckon, dig a big hole up the bush.' Feeney: 'Why?' Flannery: 'I'm gonna tell you somethin'. It was just put to me to get rid of a body. I was told to give a price.' Feeney: 'Did you give a price?' Flannery: 'Yeah, I was offered 15.' Feeney: 'Shit. You'd want more than that to have to do that. Why? Who is he?' Flannery: 'Ah, some barrister they want knocked off.' The barrister Flannery was casually discussing killing was lawyer turned businessman Roger Wilson, solid citizen, married and a father of three little kids. When we think of hitmen as cool professionals, think of Roger Wilson, a decent guy killed by strangers for money. On February 1, 1980, Wilson was flagged over on the Princes Highway near his farm at Nar Nar Goon, Victoria. Flannery and Kevin 'Weary' Williams were alleged to be holding a police sign and dressed as detectives. Wilson was never seen again. In court, it was alleged the pair were paid $35,000 by a rival businessman. All three were acquitted. Flannery's jubilation was short-lived as he was immediately arrested for the murder of Sydney crook Ray 'Lizard' Locksley. The Lizard was said to be moving into the Melbourne crime scene and had to go. After two Sydney trials and an acquittal, Flannery decided to stay, bringing Kath and their two children to Sin City. In an off-the-record chat, Kath would tell police: 'What happened was we went to Sydney and we were poor. All we had was our bail money and I think $12,000 ... I mean he wasn't an angel and there was a lot of rorting going on. I mean he made a reasonable amount of money out of the standover.' Flannery met Sydney illegal gaming boss George Freeman at the Eastern Bath House (how Sopranos), where Freeman offered him a weekly retainer. Kath said Freeman wanted Rent-a-Kill on the books as insurance. 'He pays you and sits you there, and if anyone wants to kill you, to kill George, they have to kill you first.' When a rival gang tried to take over the poker machine business from mob boss Lennie McPherson, George lent Flannery to Lennie as muscle. Flannery began to hunt the man he believed was responsible, and it would later be alleged the rival gang was looking to get in first. On January 27, 1985, a crew fired up to 60 shots at Flannery outside his home in the southern Sydney suburb of Arncliffe, hitting him in the wrist and narrowly missing Kath and their two kids. The truth was he had been on borrowed time for at least six months because he had breached the underworld rule of law: don't shoot cops and don't turn on your bosses. The Melbourne case against drug dealer Alan Williams was weak, but he didn't want to take any chances. The star prosecution witness was NSW undercover cop Mick Drury, and Williams went to his old mate Flannery for help. They met at a restaurant along with Rogerson. The deal was that Rogerson would offer Drury a huge bribe to stuff up his evidence. Drury refused and at the next meeting, Flannery told Williams: 'If it was me, I'd have him knocked.' The deal was done and on June 6, 1984, Flannery shot Drury at his Chatswood, Sydney, home. The policeman survived, and his testimony would ultimately expose the endemic corruption in NSW. The man who introduced Drury to Flannery was Robert 'Jack' Richardson, who was also charged. The word was out that Jack might be prepared to do a deal. On March 4, 1984, the day before the trial, Richardson went missing. He was last seen in St Kilda sitting outside an ice-cream shop with two men, believed to be Flannery and Williams. Within hours, he was dead. Flannery was making enemies but, in a classic case of not reading the room, he told a senior cop: 'You're not a protected species you know, you're not a f---ing koala.' Now he was on the wrong side of both honest and bent cops. Then he lost his sponsors in the underworld. Eventually, he shot dead one of his best friends, Tony 'Spaghetti' Eustace. Loading The view was if he could shoot cops and kill friends, he would kill anyone. Just as in the Mickey's days, he didn't want to remain a soldier and was moving into drug trafficking, funding an importation of three kilograms of cocaine from Bolivia with the son of a NSW judge. As a killer, Flannery knew the victim was most vulnerable at his own home, and he and Kath started moving around. Finally, in April 1985, they took a three-month lease on an apartment under an assumed name in the 30-storey Connaught building in Sydney, across the road from the police criminal investigation branch. If he thought he was safe, Roger 'The Dodger' Rogerson begged to differ, hatching a cunning plan. Rogerson contacted the NSW murder taskforce to organise a meeting with Flannery. The officer in charge, John Anderson, told the Flannery inquest: 'I was sort of taken back a bit but, nevertheless, I took the view that I had nothing to lose by meeting Flannery, so I said yes … I would speak to him. Rogerson later got back to me and said he would not come to the CIB … he had this contact with Flannery … so the venue was set to meet him at a club in the city.' At the meeting it was clear that Flannery didn't want to talk. When he left, Rogerson followed him 1.5 kilometres to the Connaught. It was then that he knew where he lived. Within hours, his pager received the message 'Ring Mercedes' – George Freeman's code name. Freeman wanted Flannery to inspect a modified sub-machinegun fitted with a silencer – the same type of weapon used in the attempt to murder Rent-a-Kill. The next day Flannery went to his Valiant sedan in the building's car park. It didn't start due to what appeared to be a flat battery (it had been disabled). Kath said her husband was prepared for action: 'Oh, he had a gun, and it was loaded and ready to go. Yes, it was a silver .38.' The best theory is he went outside and two corrupt cops he trusted, one being Rogerson, offered him a lift. Within hours, Kath walked across the road to tell police Flannery was dead, nominating Freeman. Police rang Freeman and asked if they could pop around to have a look, and he said no. Several days later they attended with a search warrant and, unsurprisingly, found nothing. Like so many of his victims, Flannery just disappeared, with speculation he was fed to the fishes in Sydney Harbour. At Sydney's Long Bay Prison, Friday was traditionally fish and chips day. For years the joke was whether the inmates were nibbling on the lightly fried Flannery. Hold the vinegar.
The Age
16-05-2025
- The Age
The day the hitman was hit
Kath wisely took her time, and Alphonse escaped. In what would be a pattern, Flannery started as the paid help, then bullied his way into management, becoming a partner in Mickey's. The main shareholder was Ron Feeney, who was shifty as a rat. He would tell police: 'After Flannery had bought the shares, things started to go wrong. His wife, Kathy, came to work there, and the takings started to drop.' It became a habit of Flannery's (short) life – always wanting more. Now he wanted to become an underworld assassin. Feeney said Flannery had come to him for advice. Flannery: 'If you had to get rid of a body, what would be the best way?' Feeney: 'Take it 10 miles out in the bay and dump it.' Flannery: 'No, I reckon, dig a big hole up the bush.' Feeney: 'Why?' Flannery: 'I'm gonna tell you somethin'. It was just put to me to get rid of a body. I was told to give a price.' Feeney: 'Did you give a price?' Flannery: 'Yeah, I was offered 15.' Feeney: 'Shit. You'd want more than that to have to do that. Why? Who is he?' Flannery: 'Ah, some barrister they want knocked off.' The barrister Flannery was casually discussing killing was lawyer turned businessman Roger Wilson, solid citizen, married and a father of three little kids. When we think of hitmen as cool professionals, think of Roger Wilson, a decent guy killed by strangers for money. On February 1, 1980, Wilson was flagged over on the Princes Highway near his farm at Nar Nar Goon, Victoria. Flannery and Kevin 'Weary' Williams were alleged to be holding a police sign and dressed as detectives. Wilson was never seen again. In court, it was alleged the pair were paid $35,000 by a rival businessman. All three were acquitted. Flannery's jubilation was short-lived as he was immediately arrested for the murder of Sydney crook Ray 'Lizard' Locksley. The Lizard was said to be moving into the Melbourne crime scene and had to go. After two Sydney trials and an acquittal, Flannery decided to stay, bringing Kath and their two children to Sin City. In an off-the-record chat, Kath would tell police: 'What happened was we went to Sydney and we were poor. All we had was our bail money and I think $12,000 ... I mean he wasn't an angel and there was a lot of rorting going on. I mean he made a reasonable amount of money out of the standover.' Flannery met Sydney illegal gaming boss George Freeman at the Eastern Bath House (how Sopranos), where Freeman offered him a weekly retainer. Kath said Freeman wanted Rent-a-Kill on the books as insurance. 'He pays you and sits you there, and if anyone wants to kill you, to kill George, they have to kill you first.' When a rival gang tried to take over the poker machine business from mob boss Lennie McPherson, George lent Flannery to Lennie as muscle. Flannery began to hunt the man he believed was responsible, and it would later be alleged the rival gang was looking to get in first. On January 27, 1985, a crew fired up to 60 shots at Flannery outside his home in the southern Sydney suburb of Arncliffe, hitting him in the wrist and narrowly missing Kath and their two kids. The truth was he had been on borrowed time for at least six months because he had breached the underworld rule of law: don't shoot cops and don't turn on your bosses. The Melbourne case against drug dealer Alan Williams was weak, but he didn't want to take any chances. The star prosecution witness was NSW undercover cop Mick Drury, and Williams went to his old mate Flannery for help. They met at a restaurant along with Rogerson. The deal was that Rogerson would offer Drury a huge bribe to stuff up his evidence. Drury refused and at the next meeting, Flannery told Williams: 'If it was me, I'd have him knocked.' The deal was done and on June 6, 1984, Flannery shot Drury at his Chatswood, Sydney, home. The policeman survived, and his testimony would ultimately expose the endemic corruption in NSW. The man who introduced Drury to Flannery was Robert 'Jack' Richardson, who was also charged. The word was out that Jack might be prepared to do a deal. On March 4, 1984, the day before the trial, Richardson went missing. He was last seen in St Kilda sitting outside an ice-cream shop with two men, believed to be Flannery and Williams. Within hours, he was dead. Flannery was making enemies but, in a classic case of not reading the room, he told a senior cop: 'You're not a protected species you know, you're not a f---ing koala.' Now he was on the wrong side of both honest and bent cops. Then he lost his sponsors in the underworld. Eventually, he shot dead one of his best friends, Tony 'Spaghetti' Eustace. Loading The view was if he could shoot cops and kill friends, he would kill anyone. Just as in the Mickey's days, he didn't want to remain a soldier and was moving into drug trafficking, funding an importation of three kilograms of cocaine from Bolivia with the son of a NSW judge. As a killer, Flannery knew the victim was most vulnerable at his own home, and he and Kath started moving around. Finally, in April 1985, they took a three-month lease on an apartment under an assumed name in the 30-storey Connaught building in Sydney, across the road from the police criminal investigation branch. If he thought he was safe, Roger 'The Dodger' Rogerson begged to differ, hatching a cunning plan. Rogerson contacted the NSW murder taskforce to organise a meeting with Flannery. The officer in charge, John Anderson, told the Flannery inquest: 'I was sort of taken back a bit but, nevertheless, I took the view that I had nothing to lose by meeting Flannery, so I said yes … I would speak to him. Rogerson later got back to me and said he would not come to the CIB … he had this contact with Flannery … so the venue was set to meet him at a club in the city.' At the meeting it was clear that Flannery didn't want to talk. When he left, Rogerson followed him 1.5 kilometres to the Connaught. It was then that he knew where he lived. Within hours, his pager received the message 'Ring Mercedes' – George Freeman's code name. Freeman wanted Flannery to inspect a modified sub-machinegun fitted with a silencer – the same type of weapon used in the attempt to murder Rent-a-Kill. The next day Flannery went to his Valiant sedan in the building's car park. It didn't start due to what appeared to be a flat battery (it had been disabled). Kath said her husband was prepared for action: 'Oh, he had a gun, and it was loaded and ready to go. Yes, it was a silver .38.' The best theory is he went outside and two corrupt cops he trusted, one being Rogerson, offered him a lift. Within hours, Kath walked across the road to tell police Flannery was dead, nominating Freeman. Police rang Freeman and asked if they could pop around to have a look, and he said no. Several days later they attended with a search warrant and, unsurprisingly, found nothing. Like so many of his victims, Flannery just disappeared, with speculation he was fed to the fishes in Sydney Harbour. At Sydney's Long Bay Prison, Friday was traditionally fish and chips day. For years the joke was whether the inmates were nibbling on the lightly fried Flannery. Hold the vinegar.
