15 Best ‘Sopranos’ Side Characters Who Deserved Their Own HBO Spin-Offs

When The Sopranos debuted on HBO in 1999, it didn’t just change television—it diagnosed America. What looked, at first, like a mob drama with premium cable edge soon revealed itself to be a postmodern epic about masculinity, therapy, capitalism, immigrant identity, and the slow corrosion of the American Dream. Created by David Chase and anchored by James Gandolfini’s volcanic, intimate performance, the series understood something that most of its imitators never quite grasped: that power doesn’t just corrupt—it deadens.

Set against the fluorescent backdrop of New Jersey strip malls and suburban ennui, The Sopranos told a story not just about organized crime, but about disorganized emotion. It mapped the psyche of a nation so over-medicated and over-consumed it had no idea what it wanted, only that it wanted more. And through it all, it made space for long pauses, elliptical edits, unresolved trauma. It didn’t just survive the era of Peak TV—it predicted it.

While Tony Soprano remains the gravitational center of the series, the true genius of The Sopranos was its ensemble—the orbiting satellites of grief, corruption, wit, and contradiction who shaped the show’s moral atmosphere. There’s a reason cast-led podcasts and fan retrospectives still draw massive audiences: every character feels singular, storied, and alive in their own right.

These characters—some peripheral, some iconic, all complicated—are the ones who could’ve anchored prestige spin-offs of their own. Their arcs were jagged, their motivations ambiguous, and their presence magnetic enough to imagine entire series emerging from their shadows. Whether we’d follow them into the past or the aftermath, each of these characters was never just a side note—they were the secret architecture of the show’s emotional power.

Here are 15 side characters from The Sopranos who deserved their own HBO spinoffs.

15

Valentina La Paz

Played by Leslie Bega

Valentina La Paz didn’t stay long in Tony Soprano’s life, but her presence crackled while it lasted. Introduced as Ralph Cifaretto’s mistress who quickly becomes Tony’s new lover, Valentina is whip-smart, stylish, and manipulative, cutting through the male chaos with acid wit. Yet behind her comic timing and casual cruelty is a character aching for some form of real agency—something that no man in the Sopranos universe was prepared to give her. She burns herself horribly in an accident while trying to seduce Tony, and like so many women around him, she’s quietly discarded when she becomes too complicated.

Smoke, Mirrors, and Scar Tissue

A Valentina spinoff could dive deep into the unseen aftermath—how a woman like her, scarred literally and figuratively, might claw her way into a version of success outside of mob-adjacency. Imagine a post-Sopranos Valentina forging a life in New York’s early 2000s art world, using charm, rage, and sharp survival instincts in a setting where image and power are currency. It would be a darkly funny, bitter, and stylish meditation on reinvention—like The Devil Wears Prada if Miranda Priestly had a lighter and a vendetta.

14

Furio Giunta

Federico Castelluccio

Furio Giunta arrived from Naples with a stare like a knife and a moral code that seemed, initially, unshakable. As Tony’s imported enforcer, Furio brought an Old World gravitas to the mob’s bloated suburban decay. Yet what made him fascinating wasn’t just his brutality—it was his tenderness, especially in his forbidden, slow-burn love for Carmela. Furio, caught between duty, fear, and longing, ultimately fled rather than betray either his boss or his heart, leaving a gaping wound in the show’s emotional landscape.

An Old World Torn Apart

A Furio prequel practically writes itself: a Neapolitan crime saga steeped in blood feuds, honor codes, and inevitable betrayals. Picture Furio rising through the Camorra underworld, learning both violence and restraint the hard way before the American dream lured him across the Atlantic. His story could be a brutal, aching portrait of loyalty in a world that punishes both weakness and conscience—a kind of Italian Deadwood, full of heat, sorrow, and beautiful savagery.

13

Dr. Elliot Kupferberg

Peter Bogdanovich

As Dr. Melfi’s own therapist, Elliot Kupferberg was one of The Sopranos’ slyest satirical creations: the therapist who needed therapy, the moral scold who didn’t know what to do with his own discomfort. Played with smirking hauteur by director Peter Bogdanovich, Elliot pushed Melfi toward some of her most crucial choices, but also exposed the limits of psychoanalysis when faced with real-world evil. His scenes often teased the absurdity of trying to intellectualize violence—and the privilege that allowed someone like Elliot to remain untouched by it.

Shrink to the Stars

A Kupferberg-centered spinoff could be a darkly funny, anxiety-soaked character study set in the booming world of upper-crust New York therapy. Imagine a mid-2000s Elliot trying—and failing—to navigate the neuroses of hedge funders, aging celebrities, and over-medicated teenagers, all while privately wrestling with guilt about the brokenness he’s pretending he can fix. It would be part Enlightened, part The White Lotus—an indictment of self-help culture masquerading as a prestige comedy.

12

Tony Blundetto

Steve Buscemi

Tony Blundetto is one of The Sopranos’ most poignant what-ifs: a brilliant, funny, fundamentally decent man undone by loyalty, resentment, and a doomed sense of obligation. Fresh out of prison and desperate to go straight, Blundetto tries to sidestep the gravitational pull of mob life, only to be crushed by it all over again. Steve Buscemi’s portrayal is one of the show’s warmest and most heartbreaking performances, making Blundetto’s fall feel as inevitable as it is agonizing.

Dreams Deferred, Again and Again

A Tony B spinoff could capture the aching tension between possibility and reality better than almost any story the Sopranos world ever told. Imagine a post-prison drama following Blundetto’s attempts to navigate small-time hustles, dead-end jobs, and the slow realization that the American dream was never built for men like him. It would be Better Call Saul–esque in tone: a character study of a man trying desperately to outrun himself—and slowly, sadly realizing he can’t.

11

Gloria Trillo

Annabella Sciorra

Gloria Trillo wasn’t just another mistress in Tony’s orbit—she was his psychological mirror, his darkest impulse in human form. As a Mercedes-Benz saleswoman with razor-edged charm and volcanic rage, Gloria seduced Tony precisely because she understood him better than he understood himself. Her arc—burning bright, unraveling fast—was one of the show’s clearest examples of how trauma finds trauma, and how love, in this universe, could be indistinguishable from self-destruction.

Beautiful Things That Break

A Gloria-centered prequel would be a nerve-fraying psychological drama, tracking her glamorous exterior life in the years before she met Tony, and the internal collapse always humming underneath. It could explore her navigation of high-end consumerism, male entitlement, and spiraling mental health in the affluent yet emotionally barren pockets of late-1990s New Jersey. Think Euphoria by way of Mad Men—a study of performance, rage, and the hollow promises of luxury.

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10

Angie Bonpensiero

Toni Kalem

Angie Bonpensiero quietly undergoes one of The Sopranos’ most satisfying transformations. Introduced as Big Pussy’s put-upon wife, Angie refuses to crumble after her husband’s betrayal and murder. Instead, she claws her way into financial independence—running a body shop, hustling among the mob wives, and refusing to be pitied. While other women in the show remain trapped in cycles of denial, Angie evolves in the margins, becoming tougher, sharper, and colder.

The Widow’s Rebrand

A prestige spinoff centered on Angie would be a gripping slow-burn character study about survival and self-reinvention. Following her after Pussy’s death, the series could chart her evolution from grieving widow to ruthless small-business owner, maneuvering through the male-dominated underworld in her own way. It would be part Breaking Bad, part Good Girls—a portrait of the compromises women make when left to build their own empires out of the wreckage of men’s failures.

9

Patsy Parisi

Dan Grimaldi

Patsy Parisi might be The Sopranos’ most quietly unsettling survivor. After his twin brother is murdered—likely by Tony’s own orders—Patsy stays in the crew, his grief sublimated into a kind of hollow-eyed resignation. He isn’t flashy or ambitious, but he’s observant, calculating, and perfectly willing to do ugly work when necessary. Watching Patsy throughout the series is like watching a man slowly erode from the inside out, a living monument to what loyalty, fear, and deferred rage can do over time.

Grief with a Grudge

A Patsy spin-off could tap into some of The Sopranos’ most haunting emotional territory: the lingering cost of survival. Imagine a slow-burning, McMafia-style series following Patsy as he quietly maneuvers in the power vacuum left after Tony’s death, balancing new ambitions with old scars. It would be a portrait of moral compromise so gradual it almost looks like success—until you realize what’s been hollowed out along the way.

8

Janice Soprano

Aida Turturro

Janice Soprano is a cyclone of entitlement, resentment, spirituality, and delusion—a chaos agent in every room she enters. Whether she’s chasing hippie dreams on the West Coast or manipulating her way into mob widowhood back home, Janice is the purest expression of The Sopranos’ thesis: that emotional neediness and American self-mythology are two sides of the same coin. Her scenes crackle with a volatile energy that’s as funny as it is exhausting. She is, in short, a deeply American character.

The Gospel According to Janice

A Janice spin-off would be a darkly hilarious psychological excavation of New Age grifting, suburban malaise, and weaponized family trauma. Picture a series following Janice’s years between running from her roots and crashing right back into them: cults, self-help scams, doomed romances, all orbiting around her desperate hunger for meaning and validation. It would be part The Righteous Gemstones, part Fleabag—and Janice would burn every bridge twice.

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7

Vito Spatafore Jr.

Brandon Hannan

We only glimpse Vito Jr. briefly in The Sopranos, but it’s enough to understand the brutal legacy his father’s life—and death—has left him. Bullied, isolated, and marked by an identity he barely understands, Vito Jr. is already sinking by the end of the series, haunted by a violence he inherited but never chose. His story feels uniquely raw, a quieter tragedy unfolding parallel to the grand operatic collapses of the adults around him.

Lost Boy of a Lost World

A Vito Jr. series could be one of the darkest—and most necessary—extensions of The Sopranos universe. A coming-of-age story set in the ruins of a crumbling empire, it could follow him grappling with masculinity, legacy, and survival in a world that abandoned him before he even understood the rules. Think Euphoria meets Animal Kingdom: a portrait of what happens when the sins of the fathers poison every step into adulthood.

6

Lorraine “Lady Shylock” Calluzzo

Patti D’Arbanville

Lorraine “Lady Shylock” Calluzzo may have had a short-lived arc, but she made a lasting impression. As one of the rare female loan sharks operating in The Sopranos world, Lorraine exuded a brash confidence and swagger that many of her male counterparts lacked. Her murder by Johnny Sack’s men wasn’t just brutal—it felt like a brutal reminder of the limits placed on women in the mob world, no matter how sharp or savvy they were.

Blood, Debt, and Queens

A Lorraine prequel would be electric—a razor-sharp rise-and-fall story about a woman who fought for turf in a system built to crush her. Set in the 1980s or early 1990s, it could explore the double standards, alliances, and betrayals Lorraine had to navigate just to survive. It would be part Goodfellas, part Pose—a story about carving out power and style in a world that refused to offer either easily.