I am happy to take the bait, dangled in front of folks like me by media marketing moguls who work hard to pull off these kind of ink-generating coincidences, and sing the praises of Mr. Gandolfini. He is an extremely talented actor who well deserves all the kudos being lavished on him. He is memorable, even in tiny roles.

A few years ago, he had a scene or two as a grieving father in A Civil Action, and his expression and body language are all I remember from that film. I mention it only to note that even before he gained tremendous fame for playing criminal characters, he was memorable playing average guys.

In The Mexican Gandolfini plays a gay hit man who, like Tony Soprano, is suffering. His many past misdeeds keep bubbling up, and, increasingly, he is having trouble keeping his mind on his work. His gig to “regulate funkiness” means that he is hired to kidnap Samantha (Roberts) who is the girlfriend of Jerry.

Jerry (Pitt) is a hapless mob underling on assignment in Mexico. He is supposed to retrieve a famous pistol, “The Mexican,” for his boss. If he can get the gun, he will win his independence from the mob. If he fails, they will kill him. Leroy (Gandolfini) is hired to kidnap Sam to assure that Jerry doesn’t get any funny ideas about selling the gun to the highest bidder and just running.

Jerry and Samantha have issues. Watching Pitt and Roberts fight about feelings in Oprah-speak is hilarious. After Jerry takes off for Mexico, Sam is kidnapped and transfers all of her therapeutic impulses towards Leroy. It starts to take almost immediately. She tells him, “You know, you’re a very sensitive person for a cold-blooded killer.” While the line could easily be said about Tony Soprano, Gandolfini makes Leroy distinctly different from Tony. Tony, as the second episode this season makes clear, is still brutal and racist, even as he is remarkably sympathetic. Leroy is truly wondering if he can change.

Scenes between Sam and Leroy are wonderful, a combination of talent and the rare occurrence of watching a man and a woman fall in love with each other with no prospect that their love will lead to romance and/or sex. Sam, a giver, as she says over and over again, gives Leroy all the redemption he needs. She also helps him pick up a cutie. Eventually, he makes the ultimate sacrifice for her happiness with a nonchalance you don’t notice until it is too late.

When Leroy exits the picture, the movie is essentially over. The Mexican is fun and frollicky, and casually violent. It is a kick to see charmers like Roberts and Pitt strut their stuff, unfettered by any serious message. Though it is welcome to see comedy that doesn’t depend on body fluids and functions, the dependence on violence does detract from the fun.

Roberts sheds tears, and Pitt has an off-kilter, amusing sense of fairness, but neither really seems to absorb, in a long term way, any effect from seeing killings or committing murders. As they drive off into the future, unscathed, they are arguing about noble man vs. nobleman. The Mexican is meant to be a slight entertainment, and that is exactly what it is.

“The Sopranos” is meant to be much more. Waiting with eager anticipation for the new season to begin is an experience I imagine is vaguely similar to readers who use to wait for the next installment of a Dickens’ novel to be published. “The Sopranos” is like a great epic novel doled out in chapters for eager fans.

The delight of seeing Gandolfini stroll down his driveway to pick up the newspaper, proudly sporting that belly of his, in just the same way last season began, was truly a joy. The show’s creator David Chase, knows how to layer in meanings and scenes so expertly, I just naturally relax and smile, knowing I’m in the care of a master storyteller. Though the digital insertion of Nancy Marchand was distracting, unnecessary and an unworthy postscript to the remarkable Livia, in all other respects “The Sopranos” looks good and sounds great. In the season opener, the behavior of the FBI is made to look as reprehensible as anything the mob does, all to brilliant sound editing.

With James Gandolfini at the center, high fidelity, indeed.