By Matt Zoller Seitz
"It's my nature."
That's the punchline of the the fable "The Scorpion and the Frog," a fable repeated in numerous pop culture works, including The Sopranos, which referenced it in Season Two. About 10 minutes into "Made in America," the final episode of the final season of David Chase's drama, that phrase wriggled into my head and stayed there. It's key to appreciating the final episode, and key to understanding Chase's attitude toward people; they are what they are, they rarely change, and when they do, they stay changed for as long as it takes to realize that they were more comfortable with their old selves, at which point they revert; and once they're taken out of the picture, by illness or incarceration or death, the world keeps turning without them.
Which is a roundabout way of saying, what the hell did people expect from David Chase? Closure? Satisfaction? Answers? A moral?
It was the perfect ending. No ending at all. Write your own goddamn ending.
Tony goes to a restaurant to meet his family for dinner, after an episode showing you that after all the bloody machinations of the past six episodes, life had begun to return to something like "normal," whatever that means for this sordid bunch of self-deluded materialistic suburbanites with blood on their hands; he sits down in a booth and flips through the jukebox trying to pick a song (a great self-referential joke for a show that prides itself on picking exactly the right song for a scene). He chooses Journey's "Don't Stop Believin'" (the refrain "Don't stop" expressing the feelings of Sopranos fans so perfectly that I fear it'll be the go-to headline for stories about the finale); when Steve Perry sings, "Just a small town girl," the little bell on the restaurant's front door rings and Carmela enters and sits with Tony. They exchange chitchat -- most of the episode, which was both written and directed by Chase, is chit-chat heavy, with some halfhearted exposition sandwiched in. "What looks good tonight?" Carmela asks. "I don't know," Tony replies. He tells her Carlo flipped, that he's going to testify; Carmela's grave expression indicates that this could be the beginning of the end for their family as well as Da Family.
The bell rings again, Tony looks up, and a middle-aged white guy in a Members Only Jacket (so named in the final credits, and another nice extra-textual gag) enters the restaurant and peels off screen right toward the bar, revealing AJ coming in right behind him. AJ sits with them. More chit-chat. Tony makes eye contact with the Members Only guy, who seems to be staring at him a bit too intently; is he an assassin, sent to kill Tony and maybe his family as well, or is he just someone who recognized Tony from TV and newspaper stories? We don't know; the guy eventually gets up from his stool and goes into the bathroom. Is he pulling a Michael Corleone? Is there a gun taped to the back of a toilet tank? We don't know. Moments later, two young black males enter the restaurant. Tony was almost killed by a couple of young black men in Season One; are they assassins, or just a couple of friends going out for dinner? We don't know.
Meadow is the last Soprano family member to arrive at the restaurant. The scene cuts between Tony, Carmela and AJ inside and Meadow outside, desperately trying to parallel park. The final episodes of the final episode of The Sopranos, and David Chase is spending a solid minute on Meadow's poor parking skills. Who does he think he is? Doesn't he know we want to know that everyone died or that everyone was all right, or that Tony eventually flipped or didn't, or that the Sopranos went into witness protection or didn't, or that Tony ripped the skin off his face, exposing circuitry, and proceeded to reveal to his family that all this time, he was a cyborg sent from the future to save humanity from extinction? And yet the tension is unbearable. So often on The Sopranos, when a character or characters spend a lot of screen time shooting the breeze or fixating on some mundane bit of business, the non-drama is followed by a beat-down or a bullet in the brain; your attention starts to wander and then WHAM. We expect the same dynamic this time; but Meadow successfully parks the car. She walks across the street. We think she might get hit by a car; she does not. Cut to the inside of the restaurant; Tony looks up at the sound of the bell ringing; cut to black.
The sound cuts out, too.
The credits roll.
There is no music.
What happens next? We don't know. We'll never know.
"What the hell?"
The above sentence is the opening of a brief conversation I had with my sister-in-law. She called at 10:15 eastern time. She and my brother had just finished watching the final episode of The Sopranos. They wanted to talk about it. I hadn't watched it yet. I cut her off. "Don't tell me anything," I said. "I want to watch it myself." I'd wanted to watch it in real time, but my three-year-old son refused to go to bed by nine. I hung up and headed upstairs and pulled up the episode on my digital video recorder. Keith Uhlich, my managing editor, called, and even though I tried to cut him off instantly, he still managed to squeeze out, "I think David Chase just pissed off millions of people."
If so, they were millions of people who weren't watching The Sopranos, but another show that they hoped would turn into what they wanted The Sopranos to be. They kept hoping that this time, the scorpion won't sting them. He always did.
Here, yet again, Chase did exactly what I expect him to do: the unexpected. No gangster story has ever ended like this. The lack of resolution -- the absolute and deliberate failure, or more accurately, refusal, to end this thing -- was exactly right. It felt more violent, more disturbing, more unfair than even the most savage murders Chase has depicted over the course of six seasons, because the victim was us. He ended the series by whacking the viewer.
This ending was so consistent with everything that came before -- consistent with the show's themes, its style, its cruel sense of humor, its belief in the utter finality of death as the only real ending, the sense that life goes on anyway, even without the incredibly important person known as You -- that it was the greatest Sopranos ending ever. As I've said over and over in these posts and in Star-Ledger coverage of Seasons One through Three, Chase would rather frustrate, baffle or disappoint than deliver what audiences expect. This finale was the ultimate example of that principle. It was the film breaking five minutes before the end of a gripping movie, or having a novel ripped ripped from your hands before you were done with the last chapter.
Phil Leotardo was shot in the head at that gas station in mid-sentence; he didn't even live long enough to see the wheel of his daughter's SUV roll over his skull. Life went on without him.
Good luck naming a season of The Sopranos that ended with the simultaneous rising of action to a delirious peak and the tying up of loose ends. Season One probably came the closest to attaining that kind of classical narrative shape, and that season doubtless ended as it did because Chase figured he was doing a one-off that wouldn't get picked up for another go-round. Left to his own devices -- as he was from Season Two onward -- he established that he'd rather insinuate, tease and then frustrate. Starting with Season Two, every season has packed a lot of plot (and a fair amount of violence) into the second-to-last episode, left the final episode as a denouement -- a protracted down-shifting -- and left a lot of subplots, many of them seemingly major, unresolved. We never found out what happened to the Russian from "Pine Barrens." Tracee's murder at the hands of Ralphie Cifaretto was apparently never discovered by law enforcement, and justice was done obliquely, by Tony, months later, in a different context, and it's doubtful that it occurred to him that he was avenging Tracee.
This is considered bad drama because it's like life.
"Made in America" was the ultimate season ender; if you thought previous season enders were unsatisfying, well, you hadn't seen anything yet.
We were always frogs offering a scorpion a ride across the river. And this scorpion never promised not to sting us.
The Sopranos eschews tidy resolutions, and seems (or perhaps I should say "seemed") to delight in providing closure on small matters while denying it in big ones. In "Made in America," Meadow's wedding was discussed, but only in the abstract. We heard that Carlo flipped but we never saw it and never got any indication of why, or whether any evidence he might provide would prove damning enough to bring down the family. We heard twice that subpoenas were being handed out, but despite Tony's depressed reactions, we never learned if they would lead anywhere; there were indications that the gun charge might finally bring Tony down, but there was no closure on that, either. Tony visited Sil in the hospital, but we never learned if he lived or died. We heard Meadow had to go to the doctor to change her birth control pills. Did she have a pregnancy scare? Did she switch medicine to be extra-certain that she didn't have a child by the son of a known gangster, thus perpetuating the family legacy? Unlikely, since she told her dad she went into law after seeing his treatment at the hands of cops and FBI agents -- but we don't know. Tony's boys brought a cat from the safehouse back to the Bing; it kept staring at a picture of the murdered Christopher for hours on end. When the picture was moved, the cat moved with it, and kept staring. What does this mean? We don't know.
Tony's lawyer sat there whacking that bottle of ketchup over and over until Tony grabbed it out of his hands and tried to do it himself, and the ketchup still didn't come out.
The pilot episode started with Tony telling Dr. Melfi that he feared he'd come into the business (and by implication, America) at the end; that the best was over. The creeping sense of numbness and despair, the sense that the best (whatever that means) is over, and the concurrent sense that nothing that happens to us is as important as important to history, or even to our friends and relatives, as we'd like think, that when we're gone we'll probably be forgotten like 99.99999% of the human race, is encoded in every line and scene of this finale. Almost nobody gives a damn about your life but you, and according to Chase, there's a good chance you don't give as much of a damn as you think, because if did, you would have already changed yourself to match your idealized image. Uncle Junior doesn't remember anything about his long, colorful, nasty life, including the shooting of his own nephew; he might not even recognize his nephew. The widowed Janice seeks refuge in a house that used to belong to Johnny Sacrimoni. It's surrounded by McHomes; Tony informs her that when Johnny built the house, the area was all cornfields. We learn that the key to finding Phil is locating a gas station with a pay phone in front of it; a gas station attendant explains that few gas stations have pay phones anymore. One of the Little Italy scenes begins with a shot of a double-decker tour bus zipping through the neighborhood, and we hear an announcer telling the tourists that Little Italy used to be a huge, thriving neighborhood, but now it's been reduced to a handful of restaurants and stores; the scene ends with a shot of the street teeming with Asians. "Fuckin' A, I'm disappointed," Phil exclaims at one point. To quote another episode title, "Join the Club."
Tony looks up at the sound of the door opening. Cut to black. Roll credits. The story continues. You're not around to see it.
Throughout its run, The Sopranos has insisted, in dialogue and imagery, that there is a life beyond what we can see, a world beyond the familiar. Chase could never show us that world outright because no artist has that power. But for eight years, he did the next best thing, which was show us a fiction that wasn't quite like any of the fictions that influenced it -- a fiction that prompted contemplation of our own world, however small or large it might be. And in the final moments of the final hour of the final season, he gave us an ending we did not anticipate -- an ending unlike any he's ever staged, but not the least bit out-of-character for The Sopranos.
Appreciate it.
Sopranos recaps run every Monday at The House Next Door. For more articles about the series, see The Sopranos in the sidebar at right.
The Sopranos Mondays: Season 6, Ep. 21, "Made in America"
Monday, June 11, 2007
The Sopranos Mondays: Season 6, Ep. 21, "Made in America"
Labels:
HBO,
Matt Zoller Seitz,
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The Sopranos: Season 6,
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6/12/2007 6:54 PM
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watcher2700
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6/12/2007 7:06 PM
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Tiny Montgomery
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6/12/2007 7:49 PM
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py
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6/12/2007 7:59 PM
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Matt Zoller Seitz
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6/12/2007 8:08 PM
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Matt Zoller Seitz
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6/12/2007 8:18 PM
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Anonymous
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6/12/2007 8:19 PM
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Anonymous
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6/12/2007 8:21 PM
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Tiny Montgomery
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6/12/2007 9:21 PM
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Matt Zoller Seitz
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6/12/2007 9:46 PM
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Tiny Montgomery
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6/12/2007 10:18 PM
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Matt Zoller Seitz
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6/12/2007 11:43 PM
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Lakai
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6/13/2007 12:08 AM
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Frank
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6/13/2007 12:58 AM
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Zhubin
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6/13/2007 1:44 AM
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babyming
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6/13/2007 1:53 AM
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dave
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6/13/2007 9:25 AM
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ken
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6/13/2007 9:48 AM
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Anonymous
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6/13/2007 9:50 AM
«Oldest ‹Older 1 – 200 of 284 Newer› Newest»Member's Only is the name of the episode where Tony gets shot in season 6.
"Member's Only Jacket" is also the name of the guy at the end of the last episode ...
Great review of an amazing ending.
I enjoyed them both.
Oh, the movie never ends
It goes on and on and on and on
Don't stop believin'
I really liked the ending, though I though my cable went out. (It frequently does.)
I especially liked the conversation between Meadow and Tony. She says she is going to law after watching how the gov't treats Italian to which Tony says "Well...." For a moment, he almost admits that maybe he is the bad guy... but doesn't.
The telling moment in the episode for me was when AJ, struggling to break free of his family and find some larger meaning in his life by joining the Army and learning Arabic - which, okay, was kind of unrealistic and not well thought out on his part - is so easily snapped back into his old patterns with the bribe of a job on a very bad film (loved the description! Chase is bitter in a good way) and a new BMW that, whoah, gets 23 MPG on the highway! That'll help cure America of its oil dependency!
We're all indicted, really, unwilling to make any changes other than cosmetic ones, deluding ourselves that we're good people.
"Made in America" indeed.
But what's with the look on Tony's face in that final moment? Not how I'd expect him to react upon looking up and seeing Meadow come through the door.
I also thought for a moment that maybe there was some type of technical malfunction. Did I program my VCR properly? I think Chase cut to a kind of dead air color instead of black.
And are we like Agent Harris, so frustrated with our own lives that we develop a vicarious rooting interest in someone who stands against everything we claim to believe in?
I gotta say that i watched the final episode in a large group (in dead silence with hearts pumping like mad as the end drew near). And we are all completely mindblown and totally satisfied with the ending. I think that those who watch and get the show, got the ending.
Got that the joke was always on us. As Americans especially, we live between states of complete awareness and complete denial (especially in these times... Iraq/Paris Hilton). We want to tune out at the same time we keep tuning in. All of the allusions to our rubbernecking culture in the last few episodes especially... And in the end, Chase did what he knew he would all along, in the biggest social commentary i have ever seen on TV, he pulled the plug. He turned off our TV for us.
We were all fools in the living room. Staring at the screen aghast. We were looking for more. And then we caught ourselves... looking for more. (Shit, we even questioned if the cable went out!)
All of us watching were forced to say "shit, he totally got us." It was the most poignant 10 seconds of dead air ever on television.
Never have i been so satisfied with the end of any show.
Josh: "But what's with the look on Tony's face in that final moment? Not how I'd expect him to react upon looking up and seeing Meadow come through the door."
Yeah, I thought that, too, but then I watched the final scene again from start to finish, and the closeups of Tony looking at the door aren't substantially different from each other. He's anxious, as well he should be, since there are so many forces arrayed against his family and his organization. But I think that final closeup seems more charged with meaning just because it's the final shot of the series.
Maybe the episode title "Kennedy and Heidi" was partly a reference to the infamous Heidi bowl after all.
"Made in America" could just as easily have been called "An American Tragedy", because what Chase has done is given us a tragic narrative without catharsis; a tragedy for the "New World" ("post-" whatever) because it breaks with the dramatic conventions of "old Europe". But those dramatic conventions are also moral ones. That Tony Soprano is incapable of redemption is what matters to Chase - whether he lives or dies is beside the point. The only question we're left with is: was Tony just not up to it (being saved that is); or was the very idea of salvation "in America" (the American century) something that's obsolete?
Well, the way that Tony started up with AJ's therapist - "My mother was a borderline personality. Bet you didn't know that." And Carmela's sort of disgusted look - suggests that insight isn't nearly enough. Tony is just repeating his pattern, whining to the therapist about what he's learned in therapy rather than using that knowledge to make any real changes in his life. As the review says: we are who we are. We can't change our natures. We can only choose the BMW over the SUV.
Great post! 2 more things:
1. The twilight zone TV-industry-satire episode 'The Bard' which starred Burt Reynolds, playing in the background at the safe-house:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Bard_(The_Twilight_Zone)
2. And Bob Dylan's classic 'It's Alright Ma (I'm Only Bleeding)' burning up and distorting in A.J.'s SUV, seconds after he and the girlfriend bond over how the song is so powerful and could be relevant today. The image of one of Dylan's greatest early songs blowing up in a yellow SUV is another beautiful joke played on the cognoscenti audience. In Chase's world, there is only one way to rediscover Dylan's original value on a stereo in an SUV, and that is to have it blow up in your hollow little suburbanite face.
I don't think I totally bought Agent Harris' decision to help Tony find Phil Leotardo. It seemed uncharacteristic, based on what we've seen of him over the years, as did his seeming joy when he heard about the murder ("Maybe we'll win this thing!"). To pass on information that he knew would directly lead to a murder seems like too much of a moral and professional transgression for him to make. That we saw him in bed with a female fellow agent seemed an attempt to back and fill on the darker side of his personality, but I don't think it helped much. The whole situation still felt like just a necessary plot device to give Tony's crew enough info to track down Phil.
Superb recap and analysis. Everyone's so shellshocked over the final scene, me included, that it took a second viewing to fully appreciate the wonderment of our parting look at Paulie -- he's accepted the job that's killed any number of previous cast members, and just as he eases back to sun himself, that damn cat attracted to the photo of dead Christopher ambles into frame and plops down beside him. That was genius.
The Emmys need to present the entire cast with a special ensemble award. Carmela, Paulie, Uncle June, Artie... so many of the greatest TV characters of all time. The entire playlist needs to assemble onstage -- the way all of Truffaut's surviving actors were assembled at Cannes to take a collective bow the year of the great director's death -- so we can see them all properly appreciated.
THAT could be our catharsis.
Two shots I found interesting in the episode.
1. AJ coming downstairs in Tony's typical attire (down to the gold chain) and fully embracing in his place in the world of denial his family inhabits.
2. Tony and Paulie outside Satriale's. The lighting was appropriately washed out and the shot hit home just how eviscerated the Soprano "family" had become. What was once a vibrant, if sociopathic and predatory, place now just had Tony, Paulie, and a bunch of empty chairs. In my mind, this shot should be considered a companion to the sequences set in Little Italy, particularly Butchie walking out of the neighborhood so quickly.
One other thought: Loathe though I am to compare The Sopranos to The Wire (although I would likely pick the latter over the former), and while I have accepted and can appreciate tonight's finale (as well as Matt's excellent analysis of it), I will be curious to see how different the two finales will be once The Wire's hopefully airs in about 9 months.
Yes-Yes-Yes!!! Like others, I thought my Tivo f-ed up or the cable went out, and the thought of this sent waves of Holy Dread down my spine -- "OH SWEET JESUS, I MAY NOT GET TO FIND OUT WHAT HAPPENS TO THESE...THESE IMAGES THAT I'VE INVESTED SO MUCH INTO"...he did give us a moment of true catharsis -- he let us see how strung out we all are on THE BOX -- how many times this season has the camera lingered on a seemingly random televised image -- Tony looks up and see's the girl from Little Miss Sunshine screaming, A.J. staring at a commercial with Abe Lincoln and a Groundhog -- we see these images and the characters gazing at them in a stupour. I don't know about the rest of you -- but this is rings brutally true -- how many times to a find myself thinking I'm thinking or feeling something of depth and then decide (or do I?) "Wait, lemme just channel surf around, kill some time...." CUT TO: "God, I really need to DO something here!!!!!"...but we sit back and watch some more. I think the Twilight Zone "The Bard" snippet is very important here -- Chase has given us the greatest rebuke of television I've ever seen and HE'S PUT IT ON TELEVISION. What's beautiful is, it doesn't come off, to me, like a essay on the destructive power of the media, it simply comes off as a reflection of WHAT IS -- and it's themes ripple deeper than the Global Entertainment Prison we all live in, but that specific theme is, in my opinion, the heart of the show -- What is the number one substance that is Made in America? -- that which we are watching Entertainment -- we all sit back WATCHING the History "Channel" run it's course, taking no action, or feeling as if the action we do take has no real meaning -- we look for meaning in the superstitions of a cat, in the narssisic reflections of the box...I think Chase is showing us how Lasting Meaning can never come from Entertainment, and he reveals us to be on the edge of our seats, praying that this time, it will. The movie will never end, and America seems programmed to keep believin that somehow, someway, just passively consuming entertainment will somehow magically lead to spirtual revelation..."Did I tell you what Oprah said?", "Did you see that South Park?", "Can you believe who won American Idol?" "How moving was that last episode of M.A.S.H!!","Look at this funny clip of Bush on You Tube!!!", "I love the gang at Cheers!!","What the F%^%$#$k happend on The Soprano's???!!!" .
Thank you Mr. Chase -- it was beautiful. I think I'll celebrate by not watching television for a month -- what if that was the new Monday Blog -- we wrote about insights gained from Relationships and Life and...not...but this is life...this..I mean blogging it leads to...
Heading for bed, and surely incoherent, but a couple of things, if I can...
Yes, I think there was a layer of the show's message (and tonight certainly proved, to me, that Chase is definitely about messages) which was targeted specifically at us, at all entertainment-gobblers...
But I also think -- or rather firstly i think -- that Chase down to the wire kept up this season's accelerated pinpointing of Tony as Everyman, as much in denial as we'd all like to be that we participate in anything remotely like his level of violence....
Au contraire. The scene in the wintery isolated 'barn' of sorts where Little Carmine convened Tony and the Stragglers ... To me, Chase had spent 6 power-packed seasons prepping me to see in that scene that their bottom-line, callous caring, calculated negotiating away the value of a life ("we'll find a number" Butch says) was really in principle no different from a backroom Senate or House conference where the values of lives are also juggled and horse-traded ...
That was the 'theme' that Kennedy and Heidi set up so recently (even young middle-class white girls do it -- rationalize self-serving calculation), that the further tarnishings of the FBI, of therapists, to add to the heap of lawyers, doctors, etc. we've watched over these seasons prostitute themselves in various ways... "It's my sister," T bargains ... but that's the point, he's bargaining.
Meadow will join Parisi's son in doing the whitewashed equivalent. Yes, being a defender is vital to our system, but she'll be defending as much corruption as she will civil rights, as Patsy's new case attests...
And life indeed goes on. Tony has survived, physically, for now, but has he 'grown'? Do people 'grow' really? T is still just as resentment of Livia, just as seething at and suspicious of Uncle Jun, still searching the winter sky for signs of ducks coming or going ... still edgy, still wondering when his number'll be up... Carmela might be a tad more fed up or wiser, but she still will sweep her own cognitive dissonance under the latest 4-color-brochure carpet and beach house to go with it ...
What I loved about this episode that no one has mentioned -- It didn't just end in a thematically and stylistically appropriate manner suited to these implicit messages of Chase's -- to us as viewers, to us as a society and nation -- but it also ended with its sense of humor and wit back in delicious force. Paulie was an excellent 'survivor' for gifting us with some great little laughs amid the tension. And Tony too (AJ: It'll help my career. T: You don't have a career.)...
Thank you all (Chase & Co.) and to all a good night... :-)
Heading for bed, and surely incoherent, but a couple of things, if I can...
Yes, I think there was a layer of the show's message (and tonight certainly proved, to me, that Chase is definitely about messages) which was targeted specifically at us, at all entertainment-gobblers...
But I also think -- or rather firstly i think -- that Chase down to the wire kept up this season's accelerated pinpointing of Tony as Everyman, as much in denial as we'd all like to be that we participate in anything remotely like his level of violence....
Au contraire. The scene in the wintery isolated 'barn' of sorts where Little Carmine convened Tony and the Stragglers ... To me, Chase had spent 6 power-packed seasons prepping me to see in that scene that their bottom-line, callous caring, calculated negotiating away the value of a life ("we'll find a number" Butch says) was really in principle no different from a backroom Senate or House conference or CEO tete-a-tete or, especially in these Bush years which Chase kept front-and-center, a White House extra-legal intrigue where the values of lives and futures are also juggled and horse-traded ... often crassly, commercially, in collusion and corruption and calculation...
That was the 'theme' that Kennedy and Heidi set up so recently (even young middle-class white girls do it -- rationalize self-serving calculation), that the further tarnishings of the FBI, of therapists, to add to the heap of lawyers, doctors, etc. we've watched over these seasons prostitute themselves in various ways... "It's my sister," T bargains ... but that's the point, he's bargaining.
Meadow will join Parisi's son in doing the whitewashed equivalent. Yes, being a defender is vital to our system, but she'll be defending as much corruption as she will civil rights, as Patsy's new case attests...
And life indeed goes on. Tony has survived, physically, for now, but has he 'grown'? Do people 'grow' really? T is still just as resentment of Livia, just as seething at and suspicious of Uncle Jun, still searching the winter sky for signs of ducks coming or going ... still edgy, still wondering when his number'll be up... Carmela might be a tad more fed up or wiser, but she still will sweep her own cognitive dissonance under the latest 4-color-brochure carpet and beach house to go with it ...
What I loved about this episode that no one has mentioned -- It didn't just end in a thematically and stylistically appropriate manner suited to these implicit messages of Chase's -- to us as viewers, to us as a society and nation -- but it also ended with its sense of humor and wit back in delicious force. Paulie was an excellent 'survivor' for gifting us with some great little laughs amid the tension. And Tony too (AJ: It'll help my career. T: You don't have a career.)...
Thank you all (Chase & Co.) and to all a good night... :-)
I still say that the last shot is through Tony's eyes... hm. Wow, didn't realize I would phrase it like that.
I still say the last moments are from Tony's perspective as he gets shot in the back of the head. The last shot _is_ through Tony's eyes. He doesn't hear it coming. No orgy of gunfire. Just over.
Imagine the screaming yourself.
Well, if Chase hates TV so much why in the holy hell did he make a TV show, for 6 seasons mind you, just to tell us that we shouldn't watch the damn thing? I mean he could have written a book, or made a film, a play, or ....F*%#. I am upset about the ending of the show but at the same time I can appreciate it's ostensible brilliance. But I will never again watch anything that Chase and Co. ever puts out again. I have experimented with many substances in my life, but never have I been mind-fucked like this. HBO is going to lose a lot of love over this.
When I sign back up for Netflix, Season 1, Disc 1 is going to be smack at the top of my queue list.
I've been reading your recaps throughout this season, Matt, and I've been coming around to your "take the easy way out" show structure over time. This episode solidified it for me. I think the exact moment was when Hunter showed up.
Anyway, if that's what the show was about, then it was great because it so rarely took the easy way out.
And who can't love an episode that describes a Daniel Baldwin vehicle featuring virtual prostitutes. Let the record show that this series is one of the funniest of the era.
Sopranos recaps run every Monday at The House Next Door.
Sadly, no more. I'll miss your reviews, Matt, almost as much as the Sopranos.
Parting is such sweet sorrow ... yadda yadda yadda
...
Oh, and to the commenter thinking about The Wire finale: Given that show's tendencies, I expect it to answer all relative narrative questions while raising 400 related to the social, psychological, and everything else that anyone could care about. And it will be great in a way entirely different from The Sopranos.
I've really loved reading the attempts to explain the cut-to-black at the end--not because they're stupid or whatever, but because most of them make sense given the evidence we have from the series. All the best works that leave narrative issues unresolved have the same quality, as far as I can tell. Unfortunately, I fear I'm too academic at this point in my life to come up with my own theory beyond "they ate a nice, somewhat overpriced dinner and went home."
I think I'd have hated the ending if I thought it was only Chase-ian trickery at the audience's expense, but I didn't see it that way. What I liked about the ending is that it put us inside Tony's head. We're looking at all of the others in the diner, wondering -- is that one a Fed, who's about to bust Tony? Are those guys hitmen about to kill him?
And that's Tony's life. He's looking at all those people and asking the same questions. It's like his conversation with Bobby on the boat: guys like him end up either shot dead, or locked up for life. Like Phil, or like Johnny. Tony struggled towards redemption for a while, but that's long over. Now he's just wondering where the blow will come from, and waiting for it to fall.
No offense, Matt, but can I just be the first one to call b.s. on the theory of 'This is considered bad drama because it's like life.'?
Yes, life contains myriad unresolved plot strings, random events, and anticlimaxes. But in the context of a fictional story, it's a cop-out to simply come up with nothing but a bunch of ellipses under the auspices of "I don't need to resolve anything because *life* is unresolved." David Chase has invented and populated an entire world within this show. Would it have been so difficult to create a series of strings that resulted in something definitive? I resent the show's lack of emotional closure. Whether it was sad or happy, there should have been some sort of emotional denouement or catharsis.
This season of The Sopranos has confirmed for me why I like The Wire so much more. Both shows aim for complexity and realism, and have created dense tapestries of meanings and actions that require multiple viewings and post-game analysis. But every season, The Wire manages to round off all (or at least most) of its storylines in ways that are both devastating and inevitable by the logic of the show. Every episode builds on the previous chapters.
Looking back on this season of the Sopranos, very little seems to have led us to this ambiguous ending. Many threads could have been wrapped up, or collided with others, without the filler of Tony's Vegas trip, Vito's kid, 'Chasing It', etc. Had those episodes led to something larger, they could have been justified. But looking at the season as a whole, they seem like detours.
To be honest, I'm wasn't all that angry when I saw the final scene of last night's show. Based on what we know about the show so far, it wasn't all that unexpected. But it would have been so much *better* to have some sort of indication of where these characters are going. Some sort of conclusion, anything. There are worse cop-outs than leaving all your characters in a Journey-filled ice cream parlor (when I saw the episode's first shot, I was afraid this was going to be an all-dream sequence finale), but a real conclusion, or at least a real catharsis, would have been a more fitting, classy, and emotionally engaging way to end this show.
Chase is a soldier in what Martin Amis calls the war against cliche, and he is on the correct but losing side. Some of us relish this.
I agree with dronkmunk and Rottin' in Denmark. This ending was bullshit and a cop-out. Chase showed his contempt for his audience, the ones that supported his program, and lined his pockets for eight long years. Perhaps he was over his head and just couldn't think of an ending so he decided to use an artsy fartsy anticlimax device at my expense? I'm sorry but I feel betrayed.
"The world is a jungle.
Don't expect happiness, you won't get it.
Life is all a big nothing.
In the end your friends and family let you down, and you die in your own
arms."
-Livia Soprano
And so does David Chase.
Without discounting all of the fine comments about how 'we are whacked' and 'life goes on' and 'now we see how Tony must live his life - never knowing what's just around the corner," et al, that the ending represented, I think the key to 'what happened' is in Bobby's line on the boat from "Home Movies":
Until someone pointed out this line from Bobby Bacala's conversation with Tony in the ep. 1 of this season, about what you see when you get whacked:
"You wouldn't even know it had happened: everything would just go black."
[Was this the same conversation that was replayed at the end of "Blue Comet"?]
As a non-sequitor, I loved hearing Little Feat's "All That You Dream" when he entered the diner.
And as wonderful as it was, I have to say that I though Chase got too ham-handed in the 'humor' of AJ's SUV fire. What the hell was with the effect of "It's Alright, Ma" slowing down and 'melting' in the fire? Did AJ's SUV feature a cassette or 8-track? And the smash-cut from AJ's "Good thing I didn't have a lot of gas in the tank!" to the huge explosion. (Supply your own tromboned "Bwah, whaaaaa...")
Come to think of it, there were quite a few "smash-cuts" in the ep that were 'humorous observations': AJ discussing his enlistment plans > Carmela in the tub > meeting with AJ's therapist. And a number of smash-reverse-shots, of "seeing what Tony surveys", cut to "Tony now in the scene he just saw. It was a nice effect, but done a few times in the ep. (I remember that it happened twice in the beginning of the ep, and then again in the final diner scene.)
It also dismissed most of last week's theories about Sil, Paulie, or Patsy being a rat. (And the one person who didn't get mentioned, because there was no reason to, Carlo, WAS the rat. (Another nod to Godfather?).
Overall though - one of the best closing eps to any series, ever.
Can't wait for the Wire.
Some of the incidentals had changed, but the ending of season six was similar to the ending of season one. The anticlimactic ending of the first half of season six now seems to make sense in the light of the ending of the second half.
I'm sure we'll all see in the coming days how either brilliant Chase is or how frustrating Chases series is or was. I would think that Chases' ending fit the series MO. I can hear the arguments that drama has rules and there are better ways Chase could have ended the series, but I like the ambiguous ending. Life is uncertain, and yes there are a lot of unresolved plotlines, but I believe Chase gave us all that he wanted and had. We hear about someone flipping, and subpoenas being written. The one who started the conflict Letardo is dead, and life goes on. The Sopranos were always a thinking persons series. It expected more out of its audience. It gave us throughout its run some creative drama & yet appealed to a large portion of the population. It is that which will be the Sopranos legacy. A series with some highbrow plotlines, but which also delivered the exploitative elements. It was our bread & circus in a way.
Matt wrote: As I've kept saying over and over in these posts, ~ snip ~ Chase would rather frustrate, baffle or disappoint than deliver what audiences expect.
Chase actually playing to the audience's expectations by giving them what they wanted only they didn't know they wanted it. Makes sense to me.
TV is a visual medium and if there is one thing that TV demands is closure - something to hang your hat on. Based on the Sopranos popularity, all the fawning from the "artsy" types and all the moanin' groanin' from the "whack 'em" types about the finale, Chase has left himself a gap to fill. Be it on the DVD or in a movie, he will fill it which only makes his legend, and that of the Sopranos, grow. Not to mention his bank account.
Great reveiw Matt. I will miss the Monday morning recaps.
Oh, my review of the finale?
Chase needs to send me a check for $7.25 (minimum wage)for the hour I wasted watching. :>)
Matt, you missed it. You completely missed the ending. This is NOT a life goes on ending, 1st clue - Go back and watch the last scene of "The Blue Comet". As Tony sits in his bed and comtemplates his demise - Then flashback to Tony and Bobby in the boat discussing being whacked, "You probably never hear it coming." Fast forward to Tony in "Made In America" final scene. As Tony walks in the door of Holstein's he looks into the diner and sees nobody from his family. He is the first to arrive. 2nd clue - Then there is a very odd cut. The camera cuts back to Tony's face looking into the diner and then cuts back to the diner where, if by magic, Tony is now sitting. This odd cut is provided to show us that "cut to Tony's face means the audience = Tony's perspective." Fast Foward to AJ arriving. The are two black youts (what's a yout?) and the "Members only" guy. Tony takes a look at both. After the "members only" guy walks to the restroom we see a finally closeup of Tony anticipating Meadow to walk through the door - again - Tony's perspective. Suddenly CUT to black, music stops, black screen for several seconds. Matt...... Tony (and the audience) got WHACKED - and he didn't hear it coming. It is crystal clear and not open to interpetation. WE GOT WHACKED! Chase is showing Tony's perspective.
What I loved most is the way Chase dealt with the Sopranos, Jr. After years of acting like he wants his kids to transcend his way of life, Tony is faced with them actually doing so and flips out, desperately reeling them back in. Meadow becomes a corporate lawyer defending corrupt politicians (with Italian last names -- a bit of a fuck-you to people who complained about the show furthering Italian-American stereotypes). And AJ -- poor AJ. He comes face to face with a potential life-changing realization and completely blows it. The destruction of his SUV liberates him because it's a symbol of his ties to his father (and perhaps because he subconsciously knows it's paid for with blood money), but the best he and his therapist can come up with is because it's a gaz guzzler, thus freeing him to accept a Bimmer that gets "23 in the city." If there's a point Chase has really been slamming home in these last few episodes, it's that everyone, even FBI agents and psychotherapists, is petty and corruptible, vulnerable to the lures of lucre and ego (or, in Paulie's case both). Love how Paulie finally gets what he wanted and it makes him miserable. And of course how Junior's Alzheimer's proves that, should be you beat the odds and live to a ripe old age without being incarcerated, you'll discover that your whole life adds up to zilch. Either it means something or it means nothing.
(Also, if my friend is right that Chase has been presenting Phil Leotardo and Johnny Sack as more dignified alternatives to the pygmy crew, perhaps it's not surprising in retrospect that they die and Tony lives. Mediocrity triumphs again. God bless Amurica.)
"It goes on and on and on and on." Still that in your resolution and smoke it.
Also, Matt: I had a thought about "Kennedy and Heidi" a few days ago and didn't consider it substantial enough to post to a dead thread. But since you bring it up, is it possible the explanation for Heidi's name is the most basic possible: Hide-y?
If we accept that the entire series of The Sopranos placed Tony at the center, and I do believe that Chase made this explicit in the last episode, (he was even choosing the soundtrack) then it follows that the screen going black was the end of Tony, which is the end of the series.
If Chase was just messing with the audience's hopes for resolution you would have seen Meadow enter the restaurant--she would have sat down, some more aimless chat would have happened, and then the screen would go black, implying more of the same.
Here is a side-by-side comparison of "The Barque of Dante" and the Sopranos fifth season DVD cover.
...
"This ending was bullshit and a cop-out. Chase showed his contempt for his audience, the ones that supported his program, and lined his pockets for eight long years."
He did exactly what he's always done, in exactly the way he's always done it. If his audience didn't enjoy his enduring refusal to provide narrative symmetry, I don't think I understand why they continued watching the show, as this more than anything else is probably his hallmark. The scorpion's been stinging you for close to a decade so why'd you keep crossing the river with him?
If he'd done some take on the Six Feet Under finale, showing us what became of everyone and tying it up in a neat package, then he'd have sold us out -- and himself. He'd have pandered.
Look at what we're doing. We're arguing about it. I don't think Tony died at the end; good arguments have been made here that he did. I think it was a flawless ending; others feel unsatisfied. Great storytelling does not have to have a neat ending. It's not about whether you can identify the leitmotifs for your sophomore English class. It's that the story gets in you and you talk about it. It's effective. It's got sustain. That's the definition of a great story.
I was listening to 1010 WINS (or 880) News Radion in NJ this morning and they had a very short interview segment with the actor who played Agent Harris from a finale screening. He stated that the script differed from the final version and, in the script, Members Only Jacket guy had a much more prevalent role in the final scene. Just one more thing to chew on.
storybook,
The ending you suggest doesn't force the viewer to create an ending, because, like you said, the "more of the same" is implied and we can expect that to continue. Saying that things will not resolve in a cataclysmic event and that things will go on is a resolution, somehow.
Truncating a scene filled with tension and dread and references to deaths in The Godfather and all that fun stuff begs the viewer to use that evidence to craft an ending, which is what I think the people who say that Tony died are doing. As I said in an earlier comment, those theories make sense because they use the evidence available to craft a logical explanation. But that doesn't mean Tony died, because we didn't see it happen and David Chase hasn't explained that it happened.
So someone like Matt, or me, who seems to think that this series is about people always taking the easy way out and things not being clean, will read the absence of a huge conclusive moment as a clue that these characters will continue to live in their easy ways and rehash the same issues over and over again.
That abrupt cut allows us to fill in whatever we want. It also speaks to the reason why this show was so revolutionary: it was not escapist entertainment in any way.
Er, it did provide some escapist entertainment in the really enjoyable parts of the mob story. That wasn't ever the primary draw for me, but I think it would be silly to pretend those parts weren't exciting.
I liked the ending.
For what it's worth, regarding Journey's "Don't Stop Believing"...
There is no "South Detroit" as described in the song (unless you count Windsor - which happens to be south of Detroit).
It should have come as no surprise that, Chase, the king of anticlimactic season enders, would end the series with an anticlimactic entry. How else could he outguess all the guessers? Though a couple of my expectations did come to pass, (Phil died, Tony lived), others didn’t, (AJ didn’t die and Carmela never had that epiphany about the true underpinnings of her life). Ironically, or perhaps as Chase planned it, by the end of the hour I found myself loathing the main characters more than ever. After eight years, the one thing that was readily apparent was that no one had grown, or changed, or learned anything.
For those who hoped that Tony really did “get it”, there he was at AJ’s therapist going around in “pity for himself”, lamenting the tough childhood he’d suffered through on account of his overbearing mother.
And no revelation for Carmela, who we find instead contemplating her next spec house.
And for those who expected something momentous for AJ, there was less than nothing. What appeared to be a possible double suicide attempt at first was in fact nothing more than a couple kids parking, ending with a ridiculous car explosion as the overheated SUV caught a pile of leaves on fire. And when AJ walks away from this, deciding to finally act on all the feelings that have been stirred up inside him by Yeats poem, his grand plans of military service are easily ditched when an opportunity to be a gopher on a third rate movie production presents itself as a stepping stone to eventual night club ownership.
Even Meadow, the shining hope of the family (Dr. Soprano?), the girl who would realize the American dream, ends up apparently betrothed to a made man’s son, opting for a career in law to protect the downtrodden, like her father, from those evil jackbooted thugs of the government.
It seemed that Chase was intent on serving up a little humble pie for everyone.
For the “Whack Pack” there was very little gore except for the deliciously funny slaying of Phil, replete with the mob boss literally getting popped when the SUV rolls over his head.
For the conspiracy theorists, a silenced Sil, an enfeebled Junior, but where was the rat. Only the cat knows. Or nonsensically that’s what we’re left to believe, as the adopted stray cat, that’s killed a couple mice (rats?) stares knowingly at Christopher’s picture.
And finally it ends. Will Tony be whacked? Is it Mr. Members Only? The two black guys? Meadow can’t parallel park, Mr. Members Only heads for the bathroom, shades of Michael in Godfather I, then she finally does get parked, she heads across the street. Watch that car!! No she makes it across the street, she’s not going to get run over. Time is running out. Whatever is going to happen must happen when she opens the door to the diner. Then -- nothing. Jesus!!! How can the cable fail at this critical juncture?! Forget the Heidi game, this will live in infamy. But then the credits roll in silence. No music even, to help us interpret the meaning of it all. And as I watch the credits it hits me. It was all a dream and like any dream we awaken abruptly before it’s over, left longing for one more minute of sleep perchance to dream some more.
AM said...
"...a tragedy for the "New World" ("post-" whatever)..."
Loving that expression... "Post-Whatever"...
"To be honest, I'm wasn't all that angry when I saw the final scene of last night's show. Based on what we know about the show so far, it wasn't all that unexpected."
That was exactly my feeling as well. My fiancé sat up straighter in his seat, expecting something momentous to happen in Holsteins. I knew better. There were no surprises for me last night except that they actually went with Journey (which was used ironically on both Family Guy and Scrubs) instead of "Final Countdown" or "The Flame". Feh.
Anonymous brings up an interesting point about the strange edit when Tony entered the diner. It did seem like Tony was looking at himself for a moment.
One of the things I loved about the episode is that we got to experience the overwhelming tension that Tony has to live with every moment of every day. (Is it gonna happen now? Now? Now?)
wstroby, I think that Tony provided some genuine info to Agent Harris when he told him about the Arab's bank account. Seems like he was holding that chip until he needed it.
Another "writer" from the sixties generation that slams the promise of our great country. Are we all Aj's or Tony's or Carmelas? Under the gross pop veneer, isn't our country still chock full of conscientious intellectuals and cancer researchers and social entrepeneurs who are striving to help the world? It is so easy to knock down and tear down and ridicule rather than build hope, make a plan and find the good that exists in every town of ours. David Chase is a another sixties, finger-pointing cop-out. A member of a generation that was "brave" enough to start a revolution but then did nothing but get high and dropout. This series was as impotent as the original 60's revolution. I find it odd and telling that Chase chose to denegrate Italian-America to get his socialist views across. Chase couldn't write a proper ending or even a meaningful, logical series because he comes from a generation that never had to complete anything. His poor, ill-planned writing is considered "art." David Chase isn't a genius, his casting director is. Viewers didn't tune in every week to see Chase's "scathing" social commentary on an America gone wrong. We tuned in to see a fictional mob story filled with great character actors.
Just because David Chase's dream of America died 30 years ago, doesn't mean mine did. I believe in the promise of this country and our constitution and the hope we give around the globe. With all of our faults, we are still the keepers of the light. A proponent of human freedom. Over-consumption is a sad by-product and I realize that this country is overly consumer-driven and overly superficial. But does that speak for you or me? Or your friends? How many decent, good Americans do you know? Are all of your friends and their friends and their friends all selfish American trash?
How much money did Chase get for this series that slams America? Another limousine liberal getting rich while biting the hand that feeds him. David Chase should use the money he made to learn how to write and direct. He is a poor director who doesn't know how to use a camera or edit scenes. As a writer, was it "brave" of him to end the series without a conclusion? No. It was merely another cop-out from the wealthy cop-out generation. Ever think how much money Chase has "made" writing and producing scripts in Hollywood for twenty five years? From a writer/producer of the Rockford Files, we need an "important" social commentary? LOL
Made-in-America indeed.
I really don't remember Phil Leotardo having any children.
The Spartafore kids served as quasi-surrogates in his life until Vito became outed.
At the memorial for his brother, Phil is clearly lecturing kids he never had about their Italian-American heritage (and how spoiled it had become).
So I'd say with no children, there are no grandchildren.
And this episode in every regard was the life-reshaping dream that began with Tony fell asleep with the rifle in his arms and his eyes on the door.
And the dream ended with his eyes on a door... surrounded by people who were or who suggested many who have tried to or had reason to kill him.
And then, as Bobby, said... you never see it coming.
There's a lot to consider about the reforming of reality in the episode. I posted a few considerations in Sepinwall land this morning.
But just for the hell of it I'll throw these into discussion as well.
That Meadow's degenerate roommate would appear, reformed, even reborn into the exact life Tony dreamed for Meadow.
That A.J. became an amalgam of Christopher and himself.
The episode of the Twilight Zone which famously mocked commercial TV for the idiotic limits it imposed on writers... and summoned Shakespeare (and later a few others) to be semi-Chases.
It goes on. So I won't.
But does anyone here recall any citing or sighting of Leotardo children?
If I'm wrong... hey, it's chemo brain. Whaddayagonnado?
I don't have a problem with an ambiguous, life goes on, ending. But there are other ways to shoot it. Rmember the last scene of The Godfather with the look on Kay's face as the door closes? This is more like just "pulling the plug" which is what we all thought happened to our cable systems at that moment. And that, my friends, is sophomoric.
Made In America, yet David Chase is hiding out in his chateau in the south of France. Stay there.
"...Tony ripped the skin off his face, exposing circuitry, and proceeded to reveal to his family that all this time, he was a cyborg sent from the future to save humanity from extinction?"
Fantastic. Matt, and all the commenters, I am really going to miss these recaps.
Anyway, Matt, thanks for bringing some sanity to this discussion on the series finale.
And thanks to all the commenters...I still believe that the blackout is just part of the "life goes on", but some the comments talking about the clues to why this could be Tony's death are also very interesting and thought-provoking.
My only $.02 is that the series has never shied away from showing violence, and that the hits that we've seen take place have all been very straight-forward, with no waffling. (i.e., if the Members Only guy was really there to hit him, he just would have walked right up and done it.)
It's been fun.
Now bring on The Wire.
And are we like Agent Harris, so frustrated with our own lives that we develop a vicarious rooting interest in someone who stands against everything we claim to believe in?
I didn't read it that way at all. He told Tony about Phil because he knew they would never make a difference anyway. His "All right, maybe we're gonna win this thing!" was a sarcastic comment on the FBI's complete inability to permanently put an end to organized crime (which is what "this thing" referred to, not the battle between NY and NJ.
And it was a brilliantly funny moment.
I found it interesting that the guy at the bar is credited as Nikki Leotardo. The same actor played him in the first part of season 6 during a brief sit down concerning the future of Vito. That wasn't that long ago. Apparently, he is the nephew of Phil. Phil's brother Nikki Senior was killed in 1976 in a car accident.
The trucker was the brother of the guy who was robbed by Christopher in Season 2 for some DVD players. (The trucker had to identify the body).
The boy scouts were in the train store and the black guys at the end were the ones who tried to kill Tony and only clipped him in the ear earlier in the series.
Based on the above, I'm going with the "Tony never saw it coming" crowd and thinking he got whacked.
I too thought I screwed up the DVR recording and getting the last few minutes chopped off ...
However, what the ending has done is leave a wide open palette from which a movie can be painted...
Soprano's, The Movie.
It is America. It could happen. That might be the last laugh to the bank...
I would say the series did come to a definitive conclusion this season. And that is, that Tony and his small-f family are trapped, utterly lost, beyond redemption or insight. Throughout the course of the series, much of the tension flowed from Tony’s struggle to understand his own demons, come to terms, move on, be a better person. And whether AJ and Meadow would escape those family demons, and the gravitational pull of the big-F Family. (Carmela wrested with these issues – sort of – earlier, then made her choice.)
In other words, was there any hope whatsoever for any of these characters?
And the answer, served up to us over the past few episodes, was a clear no. Tony’s utter perdition has been the major theme of the latter half of season 6. If therapy is working, after a while you learn to stop whining. He never did, as evidenced by the scene with AJ’s therapist and Carmela’s eye-rolling.
Meadow, who seemed on her way out of the family orbit for the entire run of the series, pulls herself definitively back in. Who knows if AJ would ever have made it through basic training (probably not) but his last chance to escape is cut off and he’s back in the family bosom, a budding movie producer (ha!). In terms of the “personal journey” part of the drama, what else could Chase say? Where else can this go? We could have seen Tony whacked or ruined or in prison (personally, I was hoping for ruined, which was hinted at copiously during every recent episode but the last). But he’d still be the same old Tony.
One note about the final scene: You think Tony's going to pick "I've Gotta Be Me" by Tony Bennett, both because it's the last title he sees before he puts the quarter in, and well, it's Tony Bennett and fits perfectly with the scorpion/frog theme. Yet he picks Journey, which Tony had eyed on an earlier page. When he was looking at "Don't Stop Believing," I had immediately thought, thank god -- at least Tony has the good sense to not pick Journey, who despite its awfulness (everyone hates Journey, right??) has somehow become a "classic rock" band. And then I noted that Tony woke up at the beginning of the episode to Q 104.3, NY's classic rock station. I connected that with the near-dead state of Syl (guitarist for a classic rock powerhouse) and the scene where we're watching the documentary of Little Italy now consisting of only one block, and pretty much for tourists only. (On a related side note, you'll never hear Q 104.3 play "It's Alright, Ma", which is a song that Scorcese/Coppola would certainly regard as classic rock). So, even though that horrible Journey song has some relevant lyrics for the scene, I also felt that it meant something else as well: Tony carries on, but like all 30 to 40-year old classic forms, in a highly diminished state, even near-parody-like.
Yes.
Tony's dream worked out every "problem" he went to bed facing in a way which became increasingly uncomplicated after the first forty minutes.
But when he was in that diner/ice cream parlor -- which seems to me to the most most old timey place he'd been with his family ever -- the population there suggested an implosion of "problems" from his past he couldn't escape.
So -- as he was in bed at the end of the previous show -- he sat and looked towards the door.
And as at the dream's beginning... he didn't get himself a gun. At the dream's beginning it was uselessly off to the side (like Sil's pistol).
But here... he had neither a gun nor a chance. Even his dream which gave Phil children and grandchildren couldn't give him that.
He knew.
Yeah, I thought that, too, but then I watched the final scene again from start to finish, and the closeups of Tony looking at the door aren't substantially different from each other... But I think that final closeup seems more charged with meaning just because it's the final shot of the series.
Minor disagreement here: it seemed to me that every time someone came through the door, he looked up with increasing anxiousness, and the last seemed "most anxious" for that reason. But of course, I could be reading anything into that...
Great writeup.
Chase's attitude toward people; they are what they are, they rarely change, and when they do, they stay changed for as long as it takes to realize that they were more comfortable with their old selves, at which point they revert; and once they're taken out of the picture, by illness or incarceration or death, the world keeps turning without them.
This is an excellent point. In therapy, patients do not change in kind, only by degree. And in the respect, Tony did do some successful work in therapy. I think many people had unrealistic expectations of what Melfi should have been able to accomplish with Tony (referring now to last week's episode), believing that if therapy were successful, Tony would be a changed man, reform, somehow become who he is not. What they failed to see is that neither Tony nor any of us changes like that -- we can become better versions of ourselves but not new selves.
About the scene with Butch that starts in Little Italy:
1. The tour bus comments about the shrinking size and the end with Butch surrounded by Asians could be a comment on America's decline vs. China.
2. Was this a subtle homage to "I'll take you down to Chinatown" that made Butch realize he had to settle with Tony since Phil would have killed him for not getting Tony?
Chimez, I can't provide an exact citation offhand, unfortunately, but Phil has mentioned his grandchildren at least once before--at one point (after his heart attack?) he thinks out loud about perhaps just relaxing and enjoying time with his grandchildren instead of being a hands-on boss. If he spent 20 years in the can, it's quite possible he missed his kids' entire childhood and, upon release, felt the urge to make up for it by doting on the grandkids.
The last two bands to end episoded are both returnees from early seasons (Tindersticks were in S1's "Isabella", Journey in S2's "The Knight in White Satin Armor"). Are there any other bands/artists he's used more than once? Only songs played over the credits count (for our purposes, "Don't Stop Believin'" counts despite the silence).
I have read here and in other places on the Web that people thought their cable went out when the screen went black.
I did not think that for one second. It made perfect sense to me that, having ended every episode with a different song rolling over the credits, this one would go black and silent. I didn't predict it, but when it happened I did not doubt my cable. (And my cable goes out A LOT!)
"Socialist"? I'm not sure I follow, but it's nice to know that no corner of the Internet remains untouched by the resentments of the lumpen conservatariate.
What's really remarkable is that those few seconds of dead air conveyed such a sense of finality.
The argument over whether the cut to black signifies Tony's death proves just why this ending was perfect -- it's not just that we don't know, it doesn't even matter. If he's dead, he's dead; if not, it's going to be the same old fear and bullshit, on and on until, one day, some iteration of the same scene does include a bullet. Or maybe it'll never come, and he'll just fade away like Junior and his mother, complaining all the while.
I'd feel very differently about a cut directly to the credits.
Andrew Johnston, thank you.
There are macro meanings and micro meanings. Enough cryptic minutae to fill a million Beatles records.
* * * * *
Tony was whacked. His end was our end.
And in The End - the literal end - we are all cheated. Anyone who has been touched by Death understands this, and those who don't someday will.
Sorry, folks, I'm not drinking the snake oil on this one. I knew the apologists would be out in droves today, telling the rest of us that we "just didn't get it."
Bullshit. I've been watching The Sopranos since day one, never missed an episode in real time, didn't "catch up" on DVD to be part of the pop culture craze that erupted around it and you know what? That episode showed nothing but contempt for the audience.
Everyone’s living a lie, nothing is resolved. Thanks, we knew that in Season 2. But we’re tuning in to learn Tony’s fate and Chase didn't give it to us. He took his ball and went home. Great.
It was so rote and lazy - in Kael's words, a "pretense of art" and how many landmark shows have we seen try to do this and fail? It's also undone by one of the greatest logical flaws of the entire series. Why exactly do Phil’s men turn on him. After all they're winning. Bobby and Silvio are gone, Tony's in hiding and the money is light, most of it now going to New York. But a quick meeting and suddenly this rabid killers who have wanted nothing more than to whack Tony for three years suddenly shake hands and all is right in the world? Gimme a break. This is just plain bad writing, folks, something happening not out of any kind of organic flow but because the script required it.
Sorry, Matt, we get it. This never ends. Crime endures, the mafia will never die. Great. But that doesn't excuse this episode, and I'm talking about the entire episode, not just the "ending." We didn’t tune in to learn about the industry of organized crime; we tuned in to watch Tony Soprano’s arc and violating every tenet of good writing, Chase failed to complete it, delivering instead a lazy, ho-hum, random episode of no consequence.
Oh, we get it alright. We’ll get it when the Soprano’s Christmas special airs on HBO in 3 years. Or a 6 episode mini-series. Or maybe even a star-studded film a la X-Files, another show which stretched audience interest far past the breaking point. We’ll get it when Chase’s new TV series runs aground or he fails at feature work. And after Gandolfini gets sick of doing voice-over work in Shrek 5. And after Robert Iler gets picked up for his 11th DUI. And Jamie Sigler finishes her 6th movie for Skin-e-max. And Paulie Walnuts and all the other character actors go back to bit parts in bad mob movies. We’ll get it in spades, I’m betting somewhere around 2010 when the show is “revived.”
Never say never:
Godfather III
Return to Oz
Blues Brothers 2000
The Sting II
Scarlett
2010
Psycho II - IV and 1988’s “reimagining” w/master of terror Vince Vaughn
The Two Jakes
Back To The Future II & III
Butch & Sundance: The Early Years
The Exorcist II & III
Archie Bunker’s Place
After M*A*S*H
Life with Lucy
The Tortelli’s
Joanie Loves Chachi
The Bradys
The Sopranos will be back.
And this is coming from a guy who loved the show and has been there since the beginning. But I'm not blind or deaf or dumb.
Last night ranked up there with St. Elsewhere and Seinfeld as the worst ending to a landmark TV show.
Later,
Boston Lackey
i think they picked holstein' not because it was a family place. you could make that argument about vesuvio e.g.
they picked holstein's because as you look at tony head-on his back is toward a wall. the wall contains a huge mural of a football player and banner (or something) that says 1973 state champions. i am presuming this is in the real holsteins.
while 1973 may not have been the exact year that tony was a rising football star, it would certainly have been close. that was the beginning of his life as a man (with promise) and this is the end (with resignation? despair?)
also, i think the young couple in there were there to harken back to tony and carmela's courtship, even the boyscouts to a boy's childhood, and even the young janice looking woman entering during the scene.
and finally like most americans who are the children and grandchildren of the emigres of the mezzogiorno, they are surrounded by americans. can you even remember a dining scene in the series where there wasn't an abundance of italians -- extended family etc. here we have a lone nuclear family surrounded by americans.
this is the end of the italian-american saga in the united states. as heroically as they tried italians could not preserve their culture here. this is what's made in america.
"We heard that Carlo flipped but we never saw it and never got any indication of why"
Didn't we hear that Carlo's son was arrested in some drug charge? I assumed Carlo flipping was an effort to help his son.
The letters of AJ's new BMW license plate are RDX, which is a common and powerful explosive. As I saw this I thought it implied an explosive ending to come. It's probably a joking reference to the SUV. Bill
Frankly, I can't understand how or why people are upset by the ending. I will admit that only a few here have taken that position, but elsewhere I've heard it much more loudly. First of all, this can't possibly have been a surprise to anybody. For nearly a decade now, Chase has ended each season with the pentultimate epsiode including the fireworks and a the "whackings", while the final episode was a denouement, which included only the occasional and expected killing) and which ended with the Soprano family sitting down together. Why would the final episode be any different?
More than that though, I disagree with those who claim this was some kind of unresolved cliffhanger. Yes, Chase teased us from start to finish. Yes, even the least observant among us probably sensed genuine and imminent doom for somebody at 8 or 10 different junctures only to have nothing happen. Did the black screen at the end simply represent the end of our view into Tony's world or did it represent a bullet in the back to Tony's head, instantly killing him and cutting off his (and our) sight? Who knows.... but that was the point. It didn't matter. Depsite all of the seeming changes, in reality Tony's world had not changed at all. We've been told over and over and over again how this ends, including by Tony himself: With Death or Jail so why do we need to waste more time on it.
Instead we got an episode full of reminders of exactly what "life goes on" means to Tony or as a game show host might say, "Tell us what he's one, Johnny":
Well, until death or jail (which could come in the next second or the next millenia, but it's coming), Tony gets the following:
-To live the rest of his (probably short) life in constant fear that the next guy who goes to take a piss in a restaurant or walks down the sidewalk in front of Satriales could be the guy who puts a bullet in his brain or who pulls out a badge and puts the cuffs on him once and for all.
-That another member of his crew might have a rather typical family crisis (like Carlo, whose son got popped) that sends him to the arms of the Feds to further strengthen the already-pending and soon-to-be-filed RICO case against him.
-A "crew" (if you can even still call it that) has been decimated. After losing a multitude of key guys over the past several years up and including Bobby and, presumably, Silvio last week, his two best guys (among a very lean crop) are the amiable but obtuse Patsy Parisi (who, with their kids' nuptials approaching, will certainly be spending more and more quality time with Tony in and out of work and, if future meetings are 1% as painful as the one we were treated to in the final episode... well, need I say more?) and the neurotically-superstitious and small-minded Paulie Walnuts, who, in addition to a dozen or more irritating tics and affects, is so superstitious that he not only got driven nearly insane by a stray cat but also initially refused to take a very, very plum assignment (because the other guys who had that particular job met bad fates... which, at this point in his career, is kind of like saying he doesn't want to be a fisherman because he might come home smelling like fish).
-A daughter, who gave up the dream (both hers and his) of being a pediatrician to follow her soon-to-be-husband, scion of a mobster himself, into a law practice of protecting italians from the Government. More likely, she will start having babies (and, with her trip to the ob/gyn in this episode, and the rapid and sudden wedding plans, and a generally glowing look, it wouldn't be that much of a reach to guess she was already pregnant) and "forget" to go back to work.
-A son, who they could bribe with a BMV and a cushy job as a glorified production assistant on a truly awful film (and a future promise of a club to run) to keep him from joining the army, which was likely his last, best hope to live a productive life beyond the world of organized crime and frankly probably a safer option for him, even with a couple of wars going on.
In other words, not only is Tony going to end up dead or in jail, but it is going to happen soon and, whatever time he has left, be it a second or two as his brains drain onto the table at Holsteins or a few more days or months, his remaining time will be unpleasant and unhappy.
That is a pretty complete ending to me. Do we really need to see another bullet to the head or another mob indictment on the TV screen to get that. Not me.
Just to throw in another angle: Chase made terrorism a key theme in the final seasons of Sopranos, and a major theme on a few of the characters' minds in the final episodes (namely AJ's). And don't worry, I'm not about to claim that a terrorist blew up the restaurant in the final scene, or terrorism had anything to do with Tony dying or not dying.
The final scene, however, did feel like a culmination of what Chase had successfully been turning us, the viewers, into ever since tensions began rising between Tony and Phil's crews, a tension which grew beyond description as Tony seemed like he might die in these very last episodes: Chase turned all of us into paranoid Americans scared that our favorite All-American family (albeit a perverse vision of the 'All-American family'), would meet their end from a vague and unidentifiable threat. Every person who walked through the restaurant door seemed liked a possible assassin, even the downhome-looking trucker who enters before Carmella.
Tony's fear of a vague threat might be paranoia more than reality, or it may in fact turn out to be reality. And while it will be a mob-related hit that does or doesn't (or is it "did or didn't") take out Tony in the end, Chase did capture in Tony's constant looking over his shoulder the feelings immediately following 9/11 in Tony's area of the country (NYC/Jersey).
The final scene is brilliant, because in its final seasons Chase's program was a post-9/11 reflection of Bush's America, and so Chase gives us the biggest slice of George Bush Americana imaginable to end it all: the Sopranos as a normal-looking family, ordering in a diner which captures a vaguely nostalgic American past - menus and a jukebox at each table, a power ballad song from twenty-five years ago selected by Tony playing on the jukebox, three sodas and a basket of onion rings as Tony, Carmella, and AJ wait for Meadow to arrive - and this is either as normal and quiet as life gets, or its the moment it all ends.
That Phil - the top terrorist threat in Tony's world - has been killed and neither Tony, nor we, feels safe further reflects the ambiguities of Bush's war on terror. Who needs to be caught to make these "jagoff fantasies on tv about America winning in Iraq", to paraphrase AJ during his rant at Bobby's funeral, go away?
In an era when, to many, terrorism and the Bush Administration are two sides of the same coin, and a feeling exists that even if the Bush Admin eradicated terrorism and "won" in Iraq, there would still be a Bush Admin to deal with as its own perpetuator of evil, Chase reminds us that for more than seven years we've sympathized with Tony simply because we got to know him more intimately than any of his opponents or those who threatened his life. In other words, we learned to love Tony and both his families because we spent the most time with them, and in the end, ideas of good vs evil come down to 'good' being what you're familiar with, and 'evil' being everything that is unknown. We got to know Tony very, very well, and so the series leaves us loving the devil we know, hoping he and his loved ones don't get killed by the devil they don't, whoever or whatever that is. This seems to capture's Bush's vision for America in a nutshell.
(My apologies for the too long rant. That's seven years coming out at once.)
Thank you Matt for your incredible recaps. They will be as missed as the show itself. And thank you everyone else for enlightening me on last night's finale, especially that last scene. It's a pleasure reading all of the different theories and ideas regarding what really happened, or didn't happen, and I look forward to reading more theories as they pour in over the coming days.
@ Boston Lackey:
"...we tuned in to watch Tony Soprano’s arc and violating every tenet of good writing, Chase failed to complete it, delivering instead a lazy, ho-hum, random episode of no consequence."
Tony has no "arc". Neither do any of the characters in the show. They make the same mistakes, again and again. Which I think is Chase's point. They don't grow, they don't learn fuzzy-wuzzy life lessons (or if they do, they soon discard them) they don't become better people. They stay in the same place, or move in a circle.
If you have been watching since the beginning, then the final episode is in fact the completion of the circle -- not the arc -- as Tony and family are literally the same people they were in the beginning -- spoiled, selfish, materialistic -- just 8 years / 6 seasons over.
It felt more violent, more disturbing, more unfair than even the most savage murders Chase has depicted over the course of six seasons, because the victim was us. He ended the series by whacking the viewer.
--------------------------------
Excellent post, Matt. And I always enjoy the details of your personal life -- putting a three-year-old to bed, friends and family calling before you could watch the episode – real-world details that frame your reviews. I've been debating with fans of the show (I am more of an anti-fan) that Chase takes perverse delight in breaking faith with his viewers. I was neither surprised nor disappointed by Chase's cop-out ending. It left the possibility of feature films open to him. Ka-ching. 'Made in America' indeed. All of this said, there was something perversely satisfying in this non-ending. Tony and his family are allowed to dwell in our imagination by avoiding a melodramatic closure. It recalls two Brechtian 'endings' from Scorsese classics: 1) DeNiro's Travis Bickle checking his rearview mirror in TAXI DRIVER, and 2) Joe Pesci (after his character's death) firing a gun straight at the audience in GOODFELLAS. In both cases, characters have survived a certain death to haunt the audience. Last night's finale and the Hitchcockian montage is further proof that Chase will always be Scorsese-lite. But there is one pun I have to credit Chase for. His employers like to say "It's not TV. It's HBO." With this non-ending, Chase seems to say, "It's not life. It's only TV." Whaddaya gonna do?
His "All right, maybe we're gonna win this thing!" was a sarcastic comment on the FBI's complete inability to permanently put an end to organized crime.....
------------------
Interestingly, I assumed that it meant that their inside source, (close enough to Phil that he knew about the hit) was going to be the head of the Family. If Butchie was the snitch, and now Butchie is in charge, then the FBI could actually 'win'
Something I haven't seen mentioned...Did anyone else notice that when Tony walked into the restaurant at the end he was wearing a gold and black shirt and saw "himself" sitting at a booth wearing the same black and white shirt we see as the show ends?
To Tuck Pendleton:
Sorry, I think my response didn't make it over.
Here's what I tried to write: "Arc" may be the wrong word but while we appreciate the infinite themes Chase is working with, that doesn't make up for poor execution.
I wonder how many apologists today will look back on this ending when the inevitable next incarnation of The Sopranos appears and see it as a cheap cop-out, more like the non-ending of Halloween 17 than the one to a Thomas Mann-like drama in order to keep the franchise alive.
Like I said, I get it, I just didn't like it. Play semantics with the word choice all you like, the fact is, Chase delivered a dull and uninspired capper to the show that made him immortal.
AJ wasn't bribed to give up his newfound values. He never had them in the first place. HE WAS SCAMMING EVERYBODY!
He is his father's son. And Meadow is becoming her mother. Probably pregnant. Not likely to finish law school or have a career. She can barely park her car.
I'll cop to being fascinated by the "unreality" of the last scene: the 2001 shot of Tony seeing himself sitting at the table, the presence of minor characters from previous episodes (e.g. the lil' boy scouts), etc. The theory that the whole episode as a dream, though, doesn't quite work -- Tony's dreams have always included more obviously discordant elements (e.g. Annette Bening, or talking fish). It'd be unfair for the show to suddenly frame Tony's dreams as texturally realistic -- even though I agree there was a dreamlike quality to the way his problems more or less worked themselves out. Except, of course, that the ending implies nothing is ever worked out.
jw: that was a terrific post.
Anon --
In a traditional storytelling context, I would agree with you, that Chase does not fulfill the expected contract with the audience.
However, this show has never been about traditional storytelling, it's been about confounding expectations, from the beginning conceit of a powerful and ruthless mob boss seeking therapy.
So I don't think you can apply traditional storytelling paradigms to this show, because they will inevitably come up short.
Now, you can argue that Chase has tried to tweak the storytelling conventions and has failed, that 2000 years of storytelling is too much to overcome -- I think that's a different conversation. But trying to pin this show down to any sort of arc, or traditional dramatic techniques will only end in frustration.
" I get it! I get it!"
What does Tony (jubiently) get?
To Tuck--
Agreed. That's why I've loved the show - it breaks down conventions. And that's why I thought this ending was a cop-out, not because it didn't conform to traditional standards, but because it didn't live up to its own. I wasn't expecting Godfather III, screaming at the brutality of it all melodrama but was this really the best ending this incredibly talented group could come up with?
This ending was crap because it WAS conventional, keeping hope alive that the series will be back. That is as traditional as it gets. Ooh, how clever, not providing any ending. I can't tell you how many predicted to me that "nothing will happen." I was in the other boat, screaming, no, no, no, Chase will blow us away with something totally unexpected and uncompromising as they have done since Season 1. Alas...
For what it's worth...just listened to an interview with Bill Carter of the NY Times, who said that according to HBO, Member's Only guy is NOT from a previous ep, nor are the black guys that come in.
So, he did see himself? I knew it. And the guy in the Member's Only Jacket looked a little too coincidentily like the Russian from the Pine Barrens....and the two black guys looked a little too much like the too guys that tried to kill Tony (even though one is already dead)...I woke up this morning with Journey in my head and a sad feeling to go along with it. Probably the first time these two things have gone together.
With the regard to the "all right... maybe we're gonna win this thing" comment from agent Harris, I personally think it meant something much more simplistic and something much more in line with the new, more sinister (though not surprising) side of Harris' character that we got to see. He'd been plugged in all along as to what was happening in both the Newark office's investigations of Tony (his former beat) and the Brooklyn office's investigation of Phil's crew. The two offices certainlyy had some kind of pool or bet going as to "who's guy" would win the war. With Phil gone, it looked Tony was going to win, and, thus, the Newark office would win the bet.
ty keenan said
"The ending you suggest doesn't force the viewer to create an ending, because, like you said, the "more of the same" is implied and we can expect that to continue. Saying that things will not resolve in a cataclysmic event and that things will go on is a resolution, somehow."
No, No, No--that could be a resolution, but it isn't in this case --more of the same means that we can still think about the denizens of Sopranoland going about their lives, and we "know" them well enough to predict what they are doing--they still "exist" for us at some level.
"The End" means just that as Chase wants it--it's all over. And it's a pretty witty one--no total bloodbath needed--just wipe out the consciousness of Tony and everyone else is gone.
and also says--
"begs the viewer to use that evidence to craft an ending, which is what I think the people who say that Tony died are doing."
That wasn't crafted--it happened-- and the only reason that we couldn't see it was that Tony no longer could see anything.
I'm having a hard time figuring this episode had anything to do with a commentary on George Bush or "his America." To begin, Chase has said on several occasions that he knew how he'd be ending the show since he started writing it, which was nearly a decade ago at a time when George Bush was, to everyone outside Texas, just the guy who traded Sammy Sosa. And, trying to invoke some kind of invalid "terrorism paranoia" by using an episode, and series, that took terrorism incredibly seriously, strikes me as quite odd. If Tony's paranoia about getting whacked is some kind of metaphor for America under siege by terrorism, well that cuts in favor of Bush's obsesssion with the issue, not against it. Because, as the saying goes, you're not paranoid if they're really out to get you, and those out to get Tony are legion.
Second, and more important, for those itching to read some kind of Bush-rebuke into this episode, or the series at large, note that the two characters most ready to invoke such criticisms (Meadow and A.J.) were revealed to be shallow, petty, and generally laughably ignorant in their respective critiques of the world at large. (The very same can be said of Carmella, in the other direction, with her reading of Fred Barnes and juvenile comments on illegal immigration and Hillary Clinton). If anything, Chase's invocation of political criticism, specifically of the leftish variety, mocked these positions as but mere excuses employed to conceal ignorance or manipulative self-importance and self-interest. Both Meadow's and AJ's progressive sensibilities were bought off incredibly easily, laying bare their convictions as nothing but childish, antiquated poses. I doubt those looking to read into this show some kind of party-affiliated subtext would appreciate moving too much further down that road.
With the exception of the first part of Season 6, where was witnessed some of the most didactic political commentary I've ever seen on television (Tony's "Heck of a job, Brownie" crack likely is the most out-of-character line ever uttered on the show) the program had no partisan ideoligical affliation. It showed politics as nothing but another aspect of the overall nihilist view of America that indicted everyone pretty much equally. Anybody trying to score political points with this show, on either side, is reaching way, way too far. It was political, to be sure, but not in any Red vs. Blue sense.
Phil,
I need to see the episode again, but you may be right. At the time, I wondered if his shirt was different, but couldn't remember what he'd been wearing.
He's dead, Jim.
The ambiguous ending is like the ketchup bottle. You hit it and hit it in the hope it will yield something, but maybe nothing comes out.
On the other hand, the meaning is fairly obvious. It
The Lady or the Tiger?
I agree that the ending was perfect; any other ending would have not been "Chase".
Chase borrowed that ending from John Sayles's "Limbo". Very appropriate (no pun intended) ending, though, especially in light of the second episode of season 6A ("Join the Club").
anon 12:15
I think you're exactly right in pointing out how easily Meadow and AJ's burgeoning principles were stifled and corrupted, and that a simple Red Vs. Blue reading of the series is reductive. As somebody who is quite disappointed in the state of the contemporary left, I recognize Chase's implications in this regard and applaud them.
But:
what JW said didn't necessarily reduce the show to an earnest, left-wing tract either. Chase may (or, frankly may not) have known where the show was going when he started writing it nearly a decade ago, but it seems pretty dishonest to suggest his views or creative impulses might not have changed along the way. The increasing prevalance of terrorism (and Bush) over the run of the series was not coincidental...back in 1999, GWB was simply the guy who traded Sammy Sosa. Since then, he's been considerably more, and the series has reflected that. Makes sense, right? Now, I don't know if the orange-alert atmosphere of the final five minutes is a "rebuke" to Bush (as if one person, however galling and contemptible, is wholly responsible for a fraught national climate) but I'd say that it reflects precisely what JW says. Namely, the post 9/11 fear that, rationally or not, correctly or not, and fairly or not, afflicts people living in what is, by many (if not all) measures, the safest and most prosperous society in the world and has them thinking that their own private end is perpetually nigh.
In the final scenes, what songs did Tony (or the camera-as-his-proxy) consider? I know there was at least a Tony Bennett and a Heart, but I don't remember the titles.
I ask because I wonder if those choices would've given the scene the same ironic cast that the Journey did, which, when paired with the best onion rings in New Jersey and the whole family's look of (smug?) satisfaction, suggested that -- no matter how we Choose Their Own Adventure -- those guys were hell-bound in some way or another.
I mean, think also of Paulie's fixation on the jinx that had one guy dying on the loo and another whacked by Janice: Paulie, wake up! You are no spring chicken! You're going to die sooner rather than later, whether or not you head up the crew!
Similarly, Tony and Carmela and Meadow and A.J. are damned, whether they escape Holsten's intact or not. Damned to repeat history, damned to become their parents, damned to jail, damned to die in a viciously brutal fashion, damned to mourn a sociopath, damned to enact revenge...and the cycle continues. Meadow marries the son of a made man and becomes the lawyer who struggles with ketchup bottles across the tables from a guy like her dad. A.J. comforts himself with a BMW and someone more insecure than himself. And so on.
I cannot believe someone is actually trying to fuse present day politics with the Sopranos. Of course, I can't believe anyone still tells pollsters they approve of the job George Bush is doing, but I digress....
Whatever really happened to Family Soprano, I really, really enjoyed the ride. And I discovered this site much too late. Thanks for all the fun reading.
I thought the ending was great. If you were watching the episode on a television with a glass screen, what you were left with when the screen cut to black was a reflection of yourself.
In the end we are all made in America, people do come to America to fullfill dreams and hopes, it is what you do with those dreams that is up to you. Meadow and AJ had every opportunity to be whatever they wanted in life, money was no object as far as college and schooling. Yet what did they choose, the easiest way possible, they are both becoming copies of the there parents. How many times have we heard Tony say in effect "why does everything bad happen to me?", after all those years in therapy in the end all he could do was blame his mother. He never took any responsiblity for his depression on his lifestyle, because then he would be forced to change, and change is too hard. He will go about in pity for himself for the rest of his life, blaming his childhood instead of himself. As for Carmella there is no more hiding Tony's lifestlye from the kids, it is discussed openly now, the veil has been pulled off. Now they can all blame the federal government, the FBI, etc. for the persecution against innocent Italians. Meadow even found a way to blame them for her not becoming a doctor, because of the treatment of her father, she is much better than Carmella in blame department. AJ blames the current state of the world for his depression, how can anybody be happy, why bother doing anything when any minute we could all be nuked, better to do nothing. Take the new car and the movie job, the American dream is dead, it is only about consumerism, so don't blame me if I amount to nothing.
The whole series was about choices and living with the ones you make. If you choose a certain lifestyle there will be consequences. Can you change your lifestyle to better your life? Yes, but it is hard and not that many people want to work that hard, so it is easier to blame anything else but yourself. The most telling scene in this episode to me was when Meadow's friend Hunter told Carmella she was in pre-med. Hunter had apparently been a party girl and got kicked out of college. Carmella said something like "well that has always been you". When Hunter said she turned her life around and is now on her way to becoming a doctor, Carmella looked as though she had been punched in the stomach. Change is difficult but possible, not changing and blaming everything else is much easier.
Sorry to have to disagree with so many, but this ending was pretentious bullsh*t.
This was nothing more than a more artfully done version of the bad 50's monster movies that ended with a "THE END?" on the screen. It is lazy and manipulative.
I don't want to have to write my own ending. I pay for entertainment, I don't want to "help out". If I have to compose my own ending, I want that lazy bastard David Chase to send me a check!
Chase is like that guy at work who spends twice the time and effort avoiding work than it would take to just do his job in the first place.
Pretentious bullsh*t.
I'd just like to say that the hostile creeps who are snarking about "apologists" seem pissed off for no reason other than no one is joining them in willful obtuseness.
Also, the phrase "limousine liberal" is the sort of term which causes me to skip over to the next comment.
I just want to add my thank you to the many people who have already said it. I hope you'll take them to heart. Your analysis has taken a rich, complex show and mad it more so. Part of missing the Sopranos will be missing reading your thoughts the following Monday. Funny, I started reading you when James Wolcott, who I love, linked to your post derisively after an episode in season 5. I couldn't have disagreed with him more and have read you every Monday following a Sopranos episdoe since.
As evidence that it was the viewer who got whacked last night, I think we are witnessing in a lot of viewers the 1st stage of the 5 stages of death - Anger. Me, I went straight to denial. My internet posts have centered on the fact that I saw The Who's farewell tour in 1982. I'm sure in a few months HBO will be well into the bargaining stage. I've moved on to acceptance now. I think the ending was beautiful. As in, beautiful for spacious skies, for amber waves of grain. Made In America. Love it or leave it.
And this wasn't "pretentious bullshit", the ending was pretty clear. He's dead, never saw it coming. What's the big mystery? Maybe you would have liked Tony splayed out over the table in a spreading pool of blood as (insert killer here) screamed his reasons ("You killed my uncle!") and then fled, as Tony's family wept and wept and a aria crescendoed, as the camera pulled away in a wide shot from overhead. Jesus Christ, go back to 6 Ft Under.
*an aria
Chase borrowed that ending from John Sayles's "Limbo".
I thought of that too, but didn't comment because I didn't want to diss other directors who do something similar.
I sort of wished it ended instead in a freeze frame ala A Talking Picture or rolling the credits with the family eating ala, oh, I don't know, Haneke's Cache.
This site has always been pretty thoughtful and civil. A great Oasis on the web. The “apologists” snarks are really unusual, I agree.
Thanks to Matt and all the thoughtful contributors for enhancing my enjoyment of the program
This Kevin above is real moron.
"I thought of that too, but didn't comment because I didn't want to diss other directors who do something similar."
I wasn't dissing. I did, after all, say it was a very appropriate ending to the series. It's just that I remembered reading the same angry reactions from audiences who felt cheated by Sayles's ambiguous blackout.
PS I was also pointing out that Chase's reference to Limbo may have been quite intentional and meaningful (which is why I mentioned "Join the Club" in connection with it).
I haven’t read all posts yet, so maybe somebody brought up the theory that at the end, we should be led to believe that Tony dies.
But, if you want to believe Tony was whacked, you could make a persuasive case (but, you’d have to ignore the fact that nobody at this point has any motivation to kill Tony). The last shot, in this view, if from Tony’s perspective. He sees his daughter rushing in, with eyes widening, and a moment later – BLAM, deafening silence. As he discussed with Bobby, you never even hear it. The audience was tipped to this fact in the final scene of the penultimate episode. The placement of both scenes indicates their connection.
This second half of this season has shown us several shootings from the victim’s perspectives, and this whacking mirrors that. Ditto the silence when Silvio witnesses the murder of Gerry Torciano [?] – he notes to Tony that he didn’t even hear it or realize it until it was done.
Personally, I believe this was just the shutter closing on our peek into this family/Family’s life – Chase has told us everything we need to know about these characters; they don’t change, so there is nothing new to show. This episode, and recent ones, were replete with examples: Tony going into his same song-and-dance with a new therapist, the “spinning wheels” keep turning over Phil’s head, AJ’s regression to form.
The last scene also drives home the point that everything around Tony is a threat to him (guy in cap (call-back to Christopher and the guy who wore the wire in his stupid hat), members only jacket, Carlo flipping, two black guys) and his life will never be secure.
The show is layered so thickly that it’s open to varying interpretations of events, motivations, and actions; just like life.
Another example, I’ve seen people say that Meadow’s explanation of why she’s going into criminal defense (seeing Tony arrested by the FBI) is a way of Chase again having his characters blame others for their actions or a vehicle for Tony expressing his own doubts. I see that as another manipulative move – “Dad, if you want to give me crap about this, I’ll blame it on you, so drop it.”
Adam N. defended my intentions better than I could myself, and so I will only add that David Chase is far too sophisticated an artist to reduce his labor of love to a Red vs. Blue division, and my apolgies if that's how my reading of the scene came off.
A part of the problem with bringing politics into any great work of art, such as The Sopranos, is that it makes readings of the artist's vision seem reductive and narrow-minded. Again, this was not my intention.
Rather, I can't stress enough that I only bring up these points because I believe Chase's artistry is complex and expansive enough to sustain multiple readings. In an era when interpretations of television, movies, literature, etc, attempts to come up with one correct, reductive answer, Chase created as brilliant a final season (and final scene) imaginable, because it does not and will not collapse under sustaiend scrutiny.
Any political commentary Chase is making in the very final scene is one which captures a tonality of America in 2007, both real and imagined, and he is not drawing party lines or creating specific political labels in capturing such a tonality, nor is he aiming specific criticism towards any political viewpoint or ideology.
Chase has never shyed away from making Sopranos an open reflection of Bush's America, but not as a criticism upon the Bush Administration, but rather as a complex and mature reflection of the actualities of contemporary American life, free of judgment.
Just as the sexualized undertones between Tony and Dr. Melfi early in the series were a reflection of Clinton's sexually-themed Presidency as The Sopranos went on the air, Chase is capable of tapping into the vague zeitgeist of a country. And while the early Tony/Melfi storyline reflected issues of gender roles and dangerous sexual currents in a professional setting, along with power struggles over sexual attractiveness with a great deal at stake, at no point was Chase directly accusing or criticizing the Clinton Administration in any specific way.
At the risk of repeating myself, Chase's nods to political issues such as terrorism are not meant to be reductive, but rather expansive as yet another aspect of the tapestry that is The Sopranos as a defining reflection of contemporary America. A very great deal is going on in that final scene, and my thoughts are meant to add to, not reduce the many intelligent readings being offered up regarding that last scene.
(By the way, a part me is still flip-flopping to thinking that Tony died in that final scene, so the house is more divided than a lot of the strident readings of the final scene - one way or the other - indicates.)
Ken in particular:
We seem to have continued to see things similarly down to the wire, Ken. Just read your 2 posts and while I had not myself thought of the point you made in your 2nd post - about the betting pool that Agent Harris was probably in and referring to (I'd thought vaguely that it had the sound of a bettor's elation but hadn't worked it out as you had), on your earlier post we are 100% in sync how we see this and what it says writ large about Chase's whole endeavor ...
(Note, my wee hours posting last night did have a couple of addled-brain lapses: I said Patsy once where I meant to say that it's Meadow's fiancé Patrick whose new job defending corrupt politicians is just one more echo of Chase's bullseye on the pervasiveness of corruption and 'deference' given to bottom-line, self-serving -- and not too plagued by conscience -- kind of thinking, as i expanded on there. I also meant to note in my tremendous appreciation of the full-swing back to delicious humor in this episode that, in addition to a raft of Paulie examples, it was Tony and -- for the first time? -- Tony with AJ bringing some ripe laughs ... When has AJ made us laugh really since "No fuckin' ziti?" back nearly a decade ago ... Now he was full of it - his sudden, brief vision of himself as The Donald's next go-to-man in that passage re "[The Army] will help my career" to T's "You ain't got no career." ... AJ by last night had become a rich source of some very funny lines (unwitting of course, as with virtually every character from Little Carmine on) ...
The cat was also terrific in the humor department, allowing us to see Paulie wigged out as well as playing with our own metaphors (given that the cat was eyeing Christapha as intently as he would a rat -- or a canary, soprano or otherwise) ... And then that tableau shot -- an almost Cartier-Bresson photo of Paulie with sun visor and the cat finally ambling away from the Chrissie fixation to join him on the sidewalk (Maybe indeed Paulie will soon be the next "photo on the wall" if his superstitions -- not so far-fetched re the new position he let his jealousy lure him into more than his liegely obedience -- 'pan out' and he follow in the wake of Ralphie, Vito et al... I do NOT for a moment, i'll add, share the views of some I've read today here or elsewhere who think that the cat now thinks Paulie is a 'rat' -- Chase allowed that possibility to surface, to toy with, re the photo of Christapha, but only i think as a way of showing just how spooked Paulie gets and could let a cat make him think anything -- but not Paulie. Those who insist Paulie was a rat saw a different character there than I did, his one-time crossover into Jenny Sack joke-gossiping notwithstanding.)
Well, there was one more point I meant to make last night but brain cells crashed instead:
With that final setting, he had us last see Tony (camera pov, i mean) as if we could be fellow diners and, without the intimate excavation of T inside and out we've had a decade of, “Who’d know? Here’s your average schmuck lookin guy sittin in a diner with his semi-disgruntled wife, “lost” son, awaiting bustling daughter ... How would we suspect his (warranted) inner fidgetiness about what murderous fate might await him with the next known or unknown interloper; T's demeanor was 'professional' in hiding what worries and intrigues lurked in his mind and heart... Anyone in the diner [unless they had ever seen T on the TV news, which i’m not sure actually ever happened, did it?] would have no clue that in their midst was this guy who was selling them expired osteoporosis medicine, polluting their waters and air, killing ruthlessly when so-inspired, making millions at public or consumer expense ...
And, by extension, that applies not just to a mobster like T, but Chase would have us remember constantly just how much bottom-line self-preservation at whatever cost pervades "the professions" and the backroom deals of all kinds -- What do you really know about the guy or woman sitting at the table next to you at the diner? or in the fancy Plaza Tea Room with Eloise looking down so demurely as if -- like the very existence of tabletop jukeboxes -- we could all kid ourselves that we still have a 1950's (or, eesh, even a 1980's Journey) kind of innocence (conviction that corruption/violence never touches us)?
I think Chase, as his biggest ‘message’, wanted us to get invested in T, both repulsed and yet attracted, and to increasingly drive home that the things in him that repulsed are things no one is as far away from being complicit in or even being capable of doing if they’d grown up in his context as they’d like to imagine for themselves...
And by having T live on, go to blackout (with him as untherapyized as ever — still resenting Livia, still seething at Uncle Jun but having to face that there’s no more Uncle Jun to seethe at, just a shell of him, still out to manipulate his son’s future), the echoes of the story stretch out to all those around us, whose paths we cross, who could harbor realities of their secreted lives we could never guess ... That sense of appearance-reality masking ...
There is a pretty large contingent out there who believes T is dead, therefore the black screen.
I completely disagree although I understand why you think that.
I disagree because...
1) Who wants him dead? Phil is gone. Butchie is likely an informant. There is no one left who wants to kill him. Patsy? Not likely, he is going to be in the money through Meadow. Carmine? He is basically retired.
2) Who would kill him? Members Only? Seems unlikely since he appeard to be alone. I would think they would employ two shooters for such an important target. Bobby had two shooters. Sil had two shooters. I don't believe Trucker Guy was with Members Only guy.
3) I don't think the young black men were hitters. Just my opinion.
4) Who knew he was going to Holsten's? Only his family. They didn't appear to be exceptionally late so the shooter(s) needed to follow T and I think he would have spotted them.
So all you peeps who think T is dead, who killed him and why?
Wow, great commentary and great posts. The arguments should go on for a long time. I cast my vote for Tony lived. As my Monday goes on, I like the idea that Chase whacked the audience more and more. A few thoughts...
1. Anyone who uses the term "artsy-fartsy" should stick to watching Still Standing reruns. Art is not a bad thing to be scoffed at.
2. We, the audience, do not own this show, nor are we "owed" anything. Some may not like the ending (I liked it if you can't tell) but the it belongs to the author. Chase wrote this ending as he wanted to write it; that's it. No one was cheated or duped or dumped on. It's like tearing apart Salinger for leaving Franny and Zooey unresolved. It is what it is.
3. Everyone has covered Meadow turning into her mother and AJ into his father, but I think AJ's future may be Lil' Carmine. Inept sons of mob bosses, never able to step out of their father's shadows. Now, AJ gets to apprentice with the great LC.
One last thing...can we get some kind of consensus that if a poster is not willing to read other's comments then their really don't mean anything? C'mon! I know there's a lot of comments but you don't need to ask questions and raise points that could be resolved by a little reading.
My problems with the final episode:
1- Why did Butchie and Albie all of a sudden want to turn against Phil? That whole chage of heart was given no context.
2- Agent Harris never struck me as the type that would give Tony that kind of information. He is basically an accessory to Phil's murder. I just don't seeit.
Both of those things were out of character for the players mentioned.
Outside of that, I will miss this great show. Even in the seasons or episodes that were slow, I never missed one and there are no episodes that I have seen just once!
I actually enjoyed St. Elsewhere's ending, if only for the endless chain of series that now appear by connection to also have been a figment of Westphal's son's imagination.
Tony wasn't whacked. No way, no how.
As a student of 1960s thought, chase had to have read Hermann Hesse's Steppenwolf among many other things.
Even though Tony Soprano may be "evil" and Henry Haller is "good," Chase realizes the same thing Hesse did at the end of that novel
SPOILER IF YOU EVER INTEND TO READ IT
the ultimate "punishment" or "liberation" is not to die, but to "live."
END SPOILER
Chase's vision for Season 6 has pure and simple, been what I call "existential hell."
Tony and his family have the American Dream, and they are miserable people. So will they continue to be. We have all the data we need to reach that conclusion.
When the playwright Alan Ayckbourn was an aspiring actor, he had a role in a play by Harold Pinter. He asked Pinter about the early life of the character he was to play. Pinter's answer was either "Mind your own business" (NY Times version) or "Mind your own fucking business" (The Guardian, UK version). What Pinter was telling Ayckbourn was that the story is only what the writer chooses to tell the audience. There is no before; there is no after. Once the writer lifts his pen from the page, the story is over. The characters have no after life; just as they had no previous existence despite your voyeurism, Mr. Ayckbourn. Thus, Meadow Soprano does not become the boss of the mob; AJ does not join Mensa; and Janice does not go to India to become the successor to Mother Teresa (or any other afters: Tony getting whacked, going to prison, turning state's evidence, etc.). The story ends when Chase ended it. You can argue the artistic merits of it, but you cannot extend it.
To change the subject:
Would someone help me with a timeline? Hunter (not Meadow's college roommate, but her high school friend and exact contemporary) is in her second year of med school. She had previously dropped out of college before switching to SUNY Purchase to get her undergraduate degree. Even assuming that Hunter was out of college only one year, she would be at least six years removed from high school graduation. Here's my question: How do we account for Meadow's not completing her BA in that time. Ok, she seemingly switched majors once or twice but that doesn't account for the time lag. Or did I miss a graduation party? (Could be--I'm old and my memory is shot.)
"1- Why did Butchie and Albie all of a sudden want to turn against Phil? That whole chage of heart was given no context."
I didn't think so...first of all, just look at them. They are clearly on the downslope of life, and (with due respect to the actors, as well as to the makeup department) those guys look like hell. Their death, be it natural or courtesy of a bullet, is sooner rather than later. It makes sense they would want to preserve what life they have left.
2. Also, Butchie was at Phil's when Phil refused to talk to Little Carmine and Tony...Phil basically was acting crazy, like the wizard behind the curtain, yelling at Tony and Carmine from the parapet. Plus Phil's "coupla three things" speech showed that Phil can't adapt to the new way things are done...he was a dinosaur heading for extinction, and Butchie didn't want to go with him.
At one point, didn't they say Meadow took a year off?
A commentor on another blog, which I can't find now in order to give credit, noted that the odd way they eat their onion rings is exactly how Catholics take the wafer in holy communion.
I firmly believe that Tony got whacked.
"1- Why did Butchie and Albie all of a sudden want to turn against Phil? That whole chage of heart was given no context."
That whole NY family is, and for ten years has been, dysfunctional. Last week's apparent effectiveness doesn't undo that.
1. Butchie and Albie. Albie was never for the idea of decapitation in the first place. #2 Butch, as evidenced by his scene in Little Italy, was tired of looking over his shoulder with a target on his back while Phil was safely squirreled away in hiding. He even suggested to Phil on the phone that they reach out to Jersey. Clearly, there was no changing Phil's mind. Also, we can only assume that as #2 Butchie is in line for the big chair with Phil out. So I think they set up that betrayal nicely.
2. Agent Harris' actions were also set up over time...lots of time actually. It's been since the beginning of 6A when he returned from Pakistan. He's been hanging around Newark, eating a Satriale's, and exchanging info with Tony (and even Chris) for a while. The ethical dilemma he was faced with is pretty deep. If he tips Tony off to Phil's whereabouts, he knowingly contributes to a murder. However, if he doesn't act, it is likely that Tony will be killed. (since Harris, presumably, didn't know of the NY/NJ meeting) So, either way, a mob boss will likely die.
All due respect to that other anonymous commentor, but how many ways are there to eat onion rings, really? Pop 'em in your mouth all in one (like communion) or bite into them. That's about it unless you wanna shred the breading with your fingers or some such.
"Down Neck" Tony sez ...
You know, David Chase, I was once proud of you. Proud that you were an Italian. Proud that you're from Newark. Indeed, proud that one of the early "Sopranos" episodes was entitled "Down Neck"
-- Down Neck being the Eastside of Newark, the section of the city I was born & raised in.
But now ... now... Now you're nothing to me, David. You're not a friend, you're not a paisan, you're not a gumba. I don't want to see you at the clubs (Boys', Girls' or 4-H). When you come Down Neck, I want to know a week in advance, so I won't be there.
I'd also like for you to arrange to take a nice fishing trip with a friendly fellow named Al Neary.
What have you done, David Chase? Say it ain't so? Say it ain't so!
Instead of a final episode to what COULD have been the greatest television drama in history, you made a ca-ca.
Many have called you a genius -- but that was before last night. We took you to our buxom; which for guys can be painful. (Ba-da-bing-bing!) I thought you were ... a somebody. Instead of a nothing bum, which is what you are.
You turned your back on us, David. You turned your back on us after we gave your our loyalty, our trust -- and after we already sent the check in for this month's cable bill.
You bastard! You ignominious bastard! All of New Jersey is disgraced. You'll never eat a slice of pizza in Newark again!
You broke our hearts! You broke our hearts!
AWFUL! JUST GOD-AWFUL AWFUL!
Had the final episode been what it should have been, we would have forgotten a great deal of your silly "false leads" -- your, as we now look back on it, sophomoric nihilism and existential bu-bu-bu-BULLSHIT! BULLSHIT!
You cad, you outrageous bounder, you! "The Sopranos" could have been the teevee version of the Great American Novel. But can a potentially great novel be destroyed by a shitty ending? You bet it can. And that's just what you did, you horrible biped, you.
AJ is gonna be in a suicide pact with his girlfriend. No, wait, he isn't -- he's gonna makeout with her. No, wait, he isn't -- he's gonna blow up his SUV.
Oh, and then: HE TAKES THE COCKAMAMIE BUS! Brilliant, Dave-guy. We got it. (I can't wait for the Cliff Notes on that one.)
Now, wait, hold on, you're not done with AJ yet. Now dickhead AJ wants to be Donald Trump's helicopter pilot. No, no, first he wants to go into the Army. Now, hold it again -- now he's gonna be a producer (!). Cue Mel Brooks. And it looks like he's gonna be a really *successful* producer, but, but, no, not that --now he tells his mother that he mainly just answers the phone.
Welcome, America, to "The David Chase Jerks Off AJ Soprano Show"!
Oh, but wait, let's not forget Meadow's denoument. ... She can't parallel park! (Author! Author!) ... Surely, Tolstoy is turning over in his grave with envy.
David, you blew it, man. And I'll tell you why I think you blew it. ... You have a writer's "death wish." You sabotaged your own masterpiece. And, worse, you gave people the impression that perhaps you did it to set up a sequel, a movie, or perhaps ANOTHER season.
In short: you hacked out, baby. ("Et tu, Dave-guy?")
What guilt drove you to do what you did? This wasn't just the *weakest* of all the Sopranos episodes -- it was the *final* episode: it should have meant something. Instead it was low-grade ca-ca.
You had 95% of a classic, headed into the homestretch, and you had to do it, didn't you? -- you had to shit on the audience. You putz, you self-destructive putz.
David, one other thing. Don't change your name back to its Italian version. Not that you would but, for the record, we don't want you back, kabish? Maybe you can pass yourself off as Lithuanian.
All these asshole whiners bitching about THE SOPRANOS ending better not ever watch THE PRISONER and how it ends... their teeny little heads would explode.
With regard to the questions about Butchie and Albie's as well as Harris' seemingly sudden changes of heart, I think both were actually reasonable and expected actions in context.
With regard to Butchie and Albie, you have to understand that, going back to Lucky Luciano, all mobsters know that if they are fighting each other, they aren't earning. It is one thing to order a lightening decapitation hit as Phil did. Had it worked, it might have been a master stroke and made everybody from Phil on down quite rich and powerful. However it failed. Now, by continuing the war, when the first attempt missed, Phil was only hurting business and that hurts everybody. All the guys, including Butch and Albie, were undoubtedly spending as much time looking over their shoulders as they were out earning. As such, their revenues (everybody's but especially Butch's and Albie's at the top) were dropping just like Tony's were. By hiding out in Oyster Bay, Phil, except for periodic calls to bitch and make veiled threats, had separated himself from these realities, and, as a result, made himself expendable.
As far as Agent Harris goes, one of the oldest themes of the Sopranos is that EVERYBODY has questionable morals, not just the mobsters. The last case the local cops got to the bottom of was a case of Mallomars (credit to the Simpsons for that joke) though they are great at sniffing out a deal on hot drills. Dr. Melfi and her jackbooted psychiatrist friends are little more than petty gossips who hate their patients and only care about their weekly fees, not their welfare. The varous schools Meadow attends swarm around Tony and Carmela like sharks in a feeding frenzy seeking donations of their money, which they are well aware is dirty. Even the now-famous Kennedy and Heidi were bratty, self-centered teenagers more worried about doing whatever was necessary to save their own hides than the fact that they might have killed somebody. Heck, for the past several weeks, we've been debating on this very forum if ANY character on the show is inherently good and we have not had much luck making a compelling case for anybody. In this context, should we really be shocked to learn that Agent Harris is carrying on an affair with another officer, willing to trade bits of information with criminals even when that information can lead to somebody's death and then secretly rooting for his personal "guy", Tony, to win? I say no.
There is one other thing that I have been trying to get my arms around regarding this episode. Why did this episode suddenly mark the return to the old, familiar, laugh-out-loud humor that prevailed in even the darkest moments of previous seasons. Clearly, after weeks of suffocating pressure on everybody, it is probably reasonable to expect the guys to breath a little easier and start to crack wise again. In any case, Paulie was definitely back to being the unintentionally-funniest mobster in North Jersey.... just the cartoon expressions as he was being constantly outwitted by the clueless stray cat were priceless and well worth the price of admission. Quite frankly, Phil was such a bastard (and there are much more colorful adjectives I could use, but this will do) that even his death played out in an almost humorous (emphasis on almost) fashion... much like Richie Aprile's death was when Christopher, while cutting up the body with Furio on the Satiriale's bone saw said something like, "remind me to never eat in here again." . Finally, AJ, with the fog of his depression finally lifting, was back to being to the perfect butt of just about any and all jokes. (However, to Carolyn: I do find one other old-school piece of AJ-related humor to be just as funny as the "what... no fucking ziti!?" line. During season 3 (or so), when AJ got caught trashing the pool at his school, and, part of Tony and Carmela's punishment was that he had to clean the gutters. AJ's empty expression as he asked "what's a gutter... really, I don't know" and Tony's mystified look in response were perfect and hysterically funny in context because none of us doubts that AJ WAS probably the only 15 y.o. kid to ever grow up in New Jersey and not have been forced to risk life and limb cleaning gutters at least 3 times a year during his youth. By the way, if memory serves, this scene might be playing tonight as the second rerun on A&E's reruns preceeded by the granddaddy of all Sopranos humor, the over-discussed but no less funny "Pinelands".)
Just saw this posting on Youtube along w/the clip of the final scene (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bphuuLi17SU):
The guy going into the bathroom is Nikki Leotardo. The trucker with the hat was the brother of the guy who was killed by Chris. The black guys were the guys who Tony tried to kill back in Season 2/3. They clipped Tony in the ear. We are seeing this scene through Tony's eyes like every episode and the blackout was his death. Chase left it to us to decide who out of the room full of people that wanted Tony dead, actually pulled the trigger.
Is this accurate? I trust Mr. Seitz will let us know.
Even though the Sopranos have left the building, your blog will continue to be one of my favorite sites to visit.
Cheers.
The lengthy post just above from 'anonymous' (not the one referencing The Prisoner) is very revealing of the outrage going on: demanding the show be more like 'the great American novel' says it all.
Catharsis junkies.
That's very interesting, if true.
Another question: why was Paulie so nervous and agitated after talking to Tony every time in this episode?
In response to thomas tucker who said, "Another question: why was Paulie so nervous and agitated after talking to Tony every time in this episode?"
This is just my opinion so take it with a grain of salt, but I think Paulie as so nervous and agitated in this episode because he is a nervous and agitated guy.
Agent Harris.
The one thing about this show you could count on is that everybody lies. We are shown Harris sleeping with a colleage, therefore, he is lying to his wife. What else could he be lying about?
I suggest that he was never really working Counter Terrorism, he was still working Organized Crime. He lied to T about that to gain his trust.
What do we know? There was a snitch in NY, probably Butchie, since he got the phone call from Phil. We know there was a sitdown with Butchie, Albie, Tony, Carmine and Pauly present. At that sitdown, Phil's demise was discussed. If Butchie was wearing a wire, they may be able to tie T to Phil's death.
Did Agent Harris set T up? I think so. I believe the "we" is the FBI when he said, "we will win this one."
don't think butchie was the informant in phil's crew. fbi info was not definitive that there was a hit out on tony, so it must have been someone outside the inner circle who had just gotten wind of it. had it been butchie, agent harris would have been more definitive when he warned tony.
I am now convinced that of all the characters in "The Sopranos," David Chase is closest to AJ. They're both negative, whiny, party-poopers.
And I mean that.
From the bottom.
I enjoyed the episode and I think it was pretty much what you should have expected. For all of you who claim it left too many loose ends, well any other ending would have left just as many loose ends. Different ends, but just as many.
You had to know the show was never going to be wrapped up is a nice little ending with everything resolved and a bow on top. There was too much unfinished. As many others have said, every ending was bound to piss off a large number of people.
I enjoyed it because it resolved many (but not all) loose ends, it provided some insight into the future (via the kids) and life goes on.
There is no way to make this not sound condescending, but to some degree, I think the people who wish the show had ended with Tony going down in a blaze of glory were watching the show only for the violence, language and nudity and not appreciating the other "levels" of the show. There was SO much more to the show than what you actually saw on screen and that is where David Chase took the ending.
One of the marks of good television and movies is that they can be enjoyed by different people on different levels. In this particular situation, David Chase chose to end the show on one particular level and if you weren't watching in the past and enjoying it on that level I can imagine how you would be disappointed.
Half or more than half of the comments in this thread fill me with despairing contempt for my fellow man. Now I hope that the mooks will abandon HBO and seek their killin'-folks-with-stripper-garnish elsewhere.
"Down Neck" Tony sez ...
Wait a minute, wait a cotton pickin' minute, Matt Zoller Seitz!
Matt Zoller Seitz, didn't you tell us, in an earlier episode-thread, that Tony Soprano, ultimately, "had to be punished"?
Remember?
In reading your column on last night's final episode (above), you're simply *enthralled* with the ending. There's not one mention in your column of your previous conviction that Tony *had* to be punished.
Your point out that this final episode is *consistent" with everything that's gone before. But so what? Surely you've heard the expression: "Consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds."
He blew it, man! David Chase blew it. I know from a teevee-critic-status-quo-let's-not-screw-the-pooch p.o.v. that may be verboten: to come right out *as* a teevee critic and say that Chase blew it. But that's what he did. It was a weak, pretentious ending, the main point of which seemed to be to frustrate the audience.
I would argue that Chase, clearly, (repeat: CLEARLY) took the easy way out by failing to provide adequate or meaningful denouements for his main characters. After all: THAT'S HIS JOB AS A STORYTELLER!
He simply prematurely ended the narrative, i.e., didn't finish it
-- and has the cockeyed nerve to call his copout "an ending."
Given that "copout technique," why not end "Casablanca" right after Bogart kills the German commanding officer, and let the audience figure out how the story ends? Who goes with who?
It is my underderstanding that there were two or three, or maybe more endings to "Casablanca," and that finally the filmmakers decided on which one to go with. Put another way: they didn't cop out. They didn't cop out and then pretentiously keep "the game" of high-mindedness going by FAILING to do their creative jobs.
Cop out, man! Cop out, man!
To quote a line from "The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas" ... "I don't mind a feller pissing on my shoes. I just don't like him telling me that it's raining when he's doing it."
Anyone know about Neon Genesis Evangelion? It's an animated Japanese series that now 10 years or more after the initial run remains popular enough to spawn reissue after reissue. The series ended its initial run with a 15 minute discussion of existentialism that occured in the main character's mind (it's the one time I've excused the "it was all just a dream" ending). Due to fan outrage, the creators of the show offered an alternate ending with the feature film that was made of show outtakes. The ending offered a giant mecha battle and some tidy closures to some threads left dangling by the original ending.
Fans of the show still argue over which ending was "better," and many, who have apparently adored the artist's vision enough over the years to spend MAD yen on the various reissues, special editions, action figures, and mugs, find fault with the original finale that explained everything they needed to know about the struggles of the main character and what was going on in the head of the arist.
Sopranos fans, don't be those guys.
For what it's worth: The ending to the episode seems to have been created in the editing room, and may not be the original ending planned. If you have the episode recorded, you can see that the last shot was footage used from earlier in the scene. In the three shot of Tony, Carmela and AJ they are all chewing on onion rings. When Tony looks up he is not. Usually when a television show is filmed two cameras are filming at once, an 'A' camera and a 'B' camera. The shot of Tony looking up in the final shot is clearly the 'B' camera footage from when Tony looked up the second time in the scene (when the truck driver who resembled Robert Patrick walked in). Look at the two shots, his facial expression is exactly the same. There could be a mundane answer as to why they used this shot. It could have just been what Chase and his editor felt was the best expression to end on. Or maybe something occurred in the frame when Tony looked up at Meadow that they decided to abandon and they had to use a shot from earlier in the scene. I don't know. Just something else to chew on, I guess.
I'd also like to respond to this...
Half or more than half of the comments in this thread fill me with despairing contempt for my fellow man. Now I hope that the mooks will abandon HBO and seek their killin'-folks-with-stripper-garnish elsewhere.
We now have another mystery on our hands. How is a fictional character (AJ Soprano) posting on this website and why did he chose the name Rasselas?
Down-neck,
A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds. That the behavior of characters is ultimately consistent has been a recurring theme on the Sopranos, so to end with consistency is in line with the whole series.
I also don't think Tony goes unpunished. What the last scene reveals is that his life is always uncertain. To live life that way is a punishment; perhaps a greater punishment than death.
A couple of people here mentioned the end of "The Prisoner"...did anyone else think that the opening shot (Tony's sleeping head on a pillow, light organ playing in the background, then Tony wakes up) was a direct reference to the opening credits of nearly every episode of "The Prisoner"?
said...
Down Neck Tony: I never said that Tony being punished (in the traditional gangster movie way: death or prison) would be the only right or defensible way to end the series. But there was a time when I said it it was the only ending that would fully satisfy me personally. I don't like movies and TV shows that take no moral stand whatsoever on heinous actions and the people who commit them. There were times when "The Sopranos" seemed to fall into that category -- times when the show became what it beheld -- but I think as it went along, particularly from Season Three onward, the lapses became less frequent, and when they happened they seemed more out of character and thus more jarring. Finding human savagery grimly amusing is not immoral, but getting off on pain is. Attraction-repulsion to a brutal character is fine; uncritical hero-worship is not. "The Sopranos" has always had a difficult time staying on the right side of that line, but I think they mostly walked it, and to an extent, the entire Sixth Season was about that line, and the audience's perception of that line -- whether it's necessary, where it is, when it should be observed and ignored.
Throughout the show's run, and even in the final stretch, I did harbor some hope that Tony would get killed or arrested, yes, because I thought just ending the series with "and life went on for the gangster and his family" would be a cop-out.
But in these last six episodes I've come around to the idea that the decline and fall of Tony's trashy little empire is, in fact, his punishment. From Season Four onward, Chase enfolded the action in an increasingly purgatorial and sometimes hellish atmosphere. The final episode emphasized this to a point where I don't see how it could be missed -- from the constant desolate winds moaning under every outdoor scene to that meeting of the families that took place in an abandoned factory that looked like the belly of the Nostromo in "Alien." The inhabitants of this universe are all compromised, some more than others, and incapable of seeing themselves for what they are, and the world for what it is. This is a much bleaker vision than my own -- I harbor shreds of optimism still, and I believe that people can change themselves permanently and for the better, which is part of the reason why, even though I respect "The Sopranos," I feel more affection for "Deadwood" and "The Wire."
But I don't think it's necessary to share an artist's moral vision in order to be impressed by how he articulates it. What Chase has done here goes way beyond saying, "He got away with it." He was a limited man with hints of greater self-awareness that were either never realized or that seized his consciousness fleetingly without ever really taking root.
Go back and watch the first season, and the slow disintegration of Chase's world becomes apparent. Each season was a bit nastier and more depressing than the last, with more stretches of boredom, and increasingly huge epiphanies followed by reversions. You can draw larger influences if you're so inclined -- that Tony equals America, or gangsterism equals the American me-first impulse, etc., etc. -- and that's fine with Chase. He's made a series that can be read on multiple levels, and a series that turns the very characteristics often described as limitations of television (open-ended storytelling, lack of real forward progress, an inherent resistance toward big and/or tidy endings, or endings generally) and turned them into strengths, into qualities that amplify all the things he's been trying to say about his characters, his milieu and the human condition.
In other words, I had certain expectations for "The Sopranos," a certain understanding of what I thought it was trying to do, and as we headed into this final nine episodes, I found it increasingly difficult to cling to those preconceived notions. To invoke an old critic cliche, "The Sopranos" is about gangsterism in the same way that "Moby Dick" is about whaling. Which is to say, that's what it's about, but that's not all it's about. Chase gave me the ending I didn't know I wanted. I salute him for that.
On a purely personal note, I find that the movie endings that lodge themselves and never leave are the ones that are in some way frustrating -- "2001," The Passenger," "Slacker," the final shot in "Taxi Driver" of Travis Bickle looking at his own eyes in the rearview mirror. The end of "The Sopranos" is in that weight class. I think it's so startling, and so right, that it redefines what came before, and makes the show's weaknesses -- which I've gone on about in these blog posts and in the Star-Ledger -- less damaging to the whole.
I know I'm violating the Blogger's Creed on the issue of "me too" posts, but fuck it. All I got to say, Matt, is thanks. I've really enjoyed reading your posts on the Sopranos. Even when I disagreed, it was obvious that your analysis was sharp, and attentive to nuance without getting lost in trivia. Well done.
great review....I think many people where expecting tony to go down in blaze of bullets on screen.
The ending was brilliant. Still thinking about it.
From Radar Online:
During last night's finale, Sopranos fans who are really inside baseball (you know, true mobsters, defense lawyers, cops, observers of the upcoming trial of former FBI agent Lin DeVecchio on charges that he helped Columbo War-era mob informant Greg Scarpa nearly 20 years ago, etc.) will recognize a line used by the FBI agent closest to Tony Soprano.
Not long after the agent gives Tony the location of the gas station telephone his archenemy Phil Leotardo (Frank Vincent) is using while on the lam, Leotardo is popped at the selfsame gas station in front of his family. When the agent is informed of the hit, he slams his hand on the desk, smiles, and says, "We're going to win this!" According to testimony given a decade ago by DeVecchio's former partner, Christopher Favo, that is exactly what DeVecchio said when he was told that one of Greg "the Grim Reaper" Scarpa's enemies had been whacked.
>>I'll miss the show, and these discussions. Don't stop believin'.
More than most episodes, music provided a considerable amount of the glue that bound the finale together. Most has been well covered (I too lit up at Little Feat playing in the cafe). I'll add one trivial bit: the organ at the beginning was from "You Keep Me Hangin' On"--the Vanilla Fudge version. I presume it was used as much for the title as for the mood it helped create, Chase certainly kept us hangin' on, right through the final credit crawl.
[I know, I know, geeky!]
As well as Made in America, I thought the episode could have been called "Comfortably Numb, Coda." After a few days holed up, T and crew seemed somewhat bored by the whole exercise and, I though, far too eager to get back to their old lives, even before Phil had been whacked-and-popped.
Carmella's back to flipping houses; Meadow's taking the (for her) easy path to law (and wasn't T's happy surprise at her starting salary a hoot?); and AJ's headed into a "career" as a well-paid prop--a career that will last exactly as long as his father continues to draw a breath.
Paulie, in turning down Tony's job offer (these "offers" are actually offers?) votes for maintaining a low and easy profile. In the absence of the rest of the crew, he truly stands out as a barking loon (not that anybody's surprised). T's got no talent groomed to fill his many, uh, openings so far as I can tell.
Janice's comments to Tony about Bobby's daughter were, frankly, the most chilling thing I heard the entire episode. I truly do not want to imagine what's in store for those girls.
Among the legions who will both miss the series and these Monday workouts very much, I thank Matt most sincerely. You've added a good deal to my appreciation of the show.
I think Chase gave the viewers plenty of clues on how this was going to end. I never got them until the end, though. I think the clue was Gary Cooper. The last sound I heard was the bell ringing on the door as Meadow came into the diner, and I thought '...And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; It tolls for thee.' -John Donne. Also, used as a title by Ernest Hemingway, and Gary Cooper played the main character, Robert Jordan, in the movie. The book ends with the main character, alone, awaiting death, after sending the people away that he cared about. Tony is an imitation Gary Cooper, not the strong silent type, but the fellow that tells his son's therapist, 'I could never please my mudder.'
Mostly great comments on the show, and as always I enjoyed your take on the episode MZS.
The beauty of the ending is that it is open to a variety of interpretations, but Anonymous (about 30-40 posts into it) who who said that the fade to black was Tony getting whacked is, IMHO, spot on. I can't say it better than he did, but I do recall reading somewhere that Chase said the ending would reference the first season? Wasn't that where someone first claimed that when you got whacked all it was was a sudden blackness?
Sammy B. wrote: The guy going into the bathroom is Nikki Leotardo. The trucker with the hat was the brother of the guy who was killed by Chris. The black guys were the guys who Tony tried to kill back in Season 2/3. They clipped Tony in the ear.
Is this accurate? I trust Mr. Seitz will let us know.
I had my HBO contact check on the IDs and the response was: "Found out that’s not accurate – no Nikki Leotardo or any of the other IDs."
So, ummm, David Chase asks, how do like your onion rings? Ketchup or no?
I was just as baffled as everyone by the ending. My first response after all the songs (maybe most ever for an episode) was – What is this! Sopranos: The Musical?
I’m also surprised no one has mentioned yet another in-joke, to wit, this was Episode 86. Doesn’t getting “86’ed” mean you’ve been cut off by the bartender just as we’ve presumably been cut off from the Sopranos?
Also I find it simply saddening that so many seem to want a Scarface-type ending, guns blazing away, bodies shuddering unto death throes, etc. After a century or more of Americans going to the movies, we’ve been conditioned over and over again to accept violence as the only “real” emotional catharsis for what ails us. And don’t forget consequent and desirable comfortable numbness that follows.
There is no other country whose cinema so relentlessly reaches for a gun, not one. (Scarface, btw, is still among the top rentals some 25 years after its release.) This goes back to discussion on this blog initiated by Matt several weeks ago on how Tony, et al, in their living the American dream, what they really want, really, is that oh so elusive comfortable numbness. If Tony and his crew go down racketed by gunfire and the credits roll, how marvelous. And the comfortable numbness that ensues? Well, that’s kind of like that cigarette after sex.
Chase surely knew that the most common response to last night’s show would be “Ey! What happened to my TV set?” Well, there is great deal wrong with our TV sets. We can start with the fact that the electronic devices we depend on to supply our addiction are made in northern Mexico or Asia by workers earning $6 a day. (This would include the computer I’m typing away at right now.) “We want the gear; just don’t expect anyone to give a damn about you foreigners.” We can segue from that to the awful programming broadcast on over 150 channels. There are lots of problems to be sure. Why are so few of us interested in solving them? (Thank you & we now return you to your regular programming. Bang, bang, bang.)
But what a Chase-orchestrated moment! Millions of Americans rise from their couches and as one say “something’s wrong with my TV!” What a great mantra! More comedy from Chase. The one thing that everybody got right -- there is indeed something wrong with your television. A tip of the hat to David Chase. Enjoy Paris, you’ve earned it.
I was also chagrinned by the inserts of Karl Rove and George Bush dancing. We don’t hear what he’s rapping, but I assume most of us recall his “I’m M.C. Rove. I’m M.C. Rove” at the recent White House gathering. And there was Bush dancing and drumming along with a group of Africans in the White House Rose Garden. After seven years of breaking laws in just about every area of American life, after literally destroying the checks and balances of our constitutional government, this presidency knows no limit to putting itself above the law. Just as we expect some kind resolution that will throw those rascals out, we want Tony Soprano to face some kind of comeuppance. And we wait, passive and numb.
When I saw those inserts, viwed by AJ and Rhiannon while they’re digging into the bag for more chips, I thought of the following and I would bet this week’s paycheck that Chase also had this in mind”
“Ron Suskind, writing in the New York Times Magazine two weeks before the 2004 election, recounted a conversation with a presidential aide who spoke sarcastically of journalists and their "reality-based community." The aide, who sounded uncannily like Karl Rove, informed Suskind with great condescension that a "judicious study of discernible reality" is "not the way the world really works anymore." The aide explained: "We're an empire now, and when we act, we create our own reality. And while you're studying that reality—judiciously as you will—we'll act again, creating other new realities, which you can study too, and that's how things will sort out. We're history's actors ... and you, all of you, will be left to just study what we do." [From Frank Rich’s The Greatest Story Ever Sold]
Colossal arrogance! Bush and Rove dancing as the wars drain away lives. Tony Soprano flys to Vegas, after killing Chris (we’ll never forget the look on Tony’s face), hits on one of Chris’s prostitute girlfriends, gets high on peyote and announces, “I get it.” Colossal arrogance.
What a stunning ending. We’re not at the McMansion, nor any of the elegant restaurants we’ve grown so accustomed to. Food, it’s preparation, the good meal, has always served as transformative moments whether it’s Chase, Scorcese, or Coppola who’s serving up. Sunday night, the Soprano family is transformed back into ordinary working-class stiffs grabbing a bite at the local diner--- Dorothy, you’re back in Kansas (the old neighborhood) again, right where you started. Full circle for Tony Soprano, backgrounded by the diner mural dedicated to high school football greats. (Presumably honoring the high school where Tony played football.)
Recall the casino scene from Episode 81 (“Chasing It”) where we here Tony (v.o.) say “I’m surrounded by killers” as he surveys his crew standing with him, gambling with him, cigars and drinks all around. But he gets to enjoy the warm casino vibes even as he’s losing. Sunday nite’s ending, if he lives, means that Tony will always be seeing assassins wherever he goes. It will never end. No wonder he snaps at AJ, “Whaddya mean focus on the good times!” That tension we viewers felt in the last 10 minutes? Ratchet it up times 100 and that’s what Tony has live with and die with for the rest of time.
(Maybe someone should take another look at that “Chasing It” scene. Maybe the diner’s assassins are in that one too. Whew, wouldn’t that be something! Just saw Copeland’s fact check from HBO on the post preceding this one. I tend to believe Copeland. We’ll see.)
Well, Matt, I’m sorry that I only found this site at the beginning of Season 6-B. I’ve gone back and read many of your analyses. You’ve done a helluva job here, helluva job. You take risks. You offer your self up to examination. And as far as I know you never missed a Monday.
All I can say is: please pass the onion rings.
Thanks, folks. For the record, though, I did miss a few Mondays last year, but my buddy Sean Burns filled in for me. (See sidebar on the main page.)
FYI, here are links to a couple of articles about the Members Only Jacket guy. He is not a character from a previous episode -- he's not even a professional actor. He's a pizzeria owner who was born in Naples.
Click here and here.
To Down Neck Tony who feels that the serious ending was a cop out because it did show Tony being punished, I strongly disagree with the idea that Tony has escaped punishment. Even if we assume that nobody in Holstens put a bullet in his brain and federal indictments didn't come down first thing the next morning, Tony has most definitely been punished.
This has been discussed before, but death would not have been punishment for Tony... it would have been an escape. He would skate away without seeing the final impact of his life choices on his family. No, Tony's worst possible punishment is life, especially a life that requires to experience over and over again the impact of his choices on himself and worse on his family. This was shown with great clarify over the last half of the final episode.
As for his personal life, the last 5 minutes of the final episode could not have been clearer. From now until the day he finally does die, his life will be a never ending repeat of that dinner, with every single person entering or leaving his vicinity possibly a hit man about to put a bullet into his brain or a federal agent about to slap cuffs on his wrists.
As far as his business life goes, he is now surrounded by incompetents with Paulie Walnuts and Patsy Parisi being, far and away, the best of the bunch, and Chase made it a point to show a lengthy interaction between Tony and each of them, which I think gives you a pretty good idea what he is in for.
His worst punishment, of course, is the fate of his family. Meadow told him that, if hadn't been for all his arrests that she witnessed she would likely be on her way to being a pediatrician. Instead, they led her to law school, a career of defending questionable people, and marriage to the scion of another mobster... bascially everything he dreamed she would NOT do. AJ, on the other hand, is completely muddled and, right now, Tony's best hope is to keep him from directly working for the family and instead finding a future somewhere indirectly related to his connections. Let's not forget that, every job AJ had (since the video store anyway) came from Tony... from his construction job to his pizza job to his latest job as a glorified production assistant on a truly awful movie being produced by Carmine's mob-funded porno studio.... all resulted from Tony's connections. If he is lucky, AJ will get it together and run a club that Tony buys for him, but that certainly can't be what Tony dreamed of, when AJ was born.
Call me crazy, but having to live with the above is definitely punishment... big time punishment.
So now who started all these rumors about the member's only guy and the others as being recognizable from other episodes?
David Chase, maybe?
From now until the day he finally does die, his life will be a never ending repeat of that dinner, with every single person entering or leaving his vicinity possibly a hit man about to put a bullet into his brain or a federal agent about to slap cuffs on his wrists.
I'm several episodes behind, but I watched the end of last night's episode just to see if anything big actually happened, and I had a reaction almost identical to yours. I thought it was a perfect encapsulation of who Tony has become--someone who'll spend the rest of his life wondering who the next person through the door could be. He's trapped forever in a nightmare of his own creation, which is as fitting of a punishment as I can imagine.
Matt: You write, "I don't like movies and TV shows that take no moral stand whatsoever on heinous actions and the people who commit them."
and
"On a purely personal note, I find that the movie endings that lodge themselves and never leave are the ones that are in some way frustrating -- "2001," The Passenger," "Slacker," the final shot in "Taxi Driver" of Travis Bickle looking at his own eyes in the rearview mirror. The end of "The Sopranos" is in that weight class."
I'm curious how you read the ending of "Taxi Driver," in which the irony is that Travis gets away with murder. What do you see as the "moral stand" in that ending?
Great work, as always. When I re-watch "The Sopranos" (and I will), I intend to read or re-read your Sopranos Mondays faithfully. Thank you.
Jim: This is probably a better subject for a book than a brief reply -- and for anyone who somehow managed not to see "Taxi Driver," caution, spoilers ahead.
I think that final shot of "Taxi Driver" is a condemnation of the society that failed to understand (and predict) the phenomenon of Travis, and that fed his spiraling rage through indifference and cluelessness (Peter Boyle's Wizard offering up incoherent non-wisdom in response to what's pretty clearly a confession of intent to commit random murder; Cybill Shepherd's Betsy urging Travis to find enlightenment in Kris Kristofferson; the cab dispatcher in the opening misreading Travis' terrifying, "Clean, like my conscience" as no more than a glib wisecrack and warning him not to bust his chops, then giving Travis a job on the basis of his empathy for a fellow vet; the Secret Service agent who condescends to Travis but apparently fails to sense that he's a potentially lethal threat because he's too busy getting off on being a sarcastic dick.
Travis can't connect with people, so he talks to himself and looks at himself and ricochets around in his own head, validating his own fantasies, his own myopia; all these characters possess the same fundamental flaw, only it's less noticeable because they don't act out in as spectacular and horrifying a fashion as Travis; they mostly just muddle along in their lives. We look in the mirror (the literal mirror, or the mirror of popular culture or politics, as represented by the blank slate Palantine, first introduced in disconnected closeups of his hands) and we see whatever we want to see (usually our own most flattering self image). Travis could have killed a presidential candidate; purely by chance he gets diverted from that mission and ends up killing a bunch of criminals instead, and is hailed as a hero (society seeing Travis as their surrogate, their representative, and recognizing not the truth, but a flattering image of themselves, a fantasy made real).
I think all this is pretty clear from the structure of the movie, the tone, Scorsese and Schrader's jumping between first person subjective and third person cinematic language to put us inside Travis, then pull back and up to let us see something like the truth about who he is. Travis embodies the dysfunction of the insane society he inhabits, in the way that the Golem, Frankenstein's monster or Caliban from "The Tempest" represent, to some degree, the ids, the secret wishes and buried impulses, of their creators. He does our bidding and speaks for us (with guns and knives) even though we never met the guy until we saw him in the newspapers and on TV. We disclaim responsibility for him even though he is us -- or if not exactly "us," then a manifestation of aspects of ourselves that we'd prefer to deny.
What's beautiful, though, is that Scorsese and Schrader don't hang a bunch of labels on their creation to clearly tell us, "This equals this," or "This image symbolizes this sentiment." They err on the side of ambiguity so that we're forced to do our own math. And as I keep saying in this forum, your mileage may vary.
And that's how I can reconcile what I think of as a clear statement about Travis' relationship to society (and society's relationship to Travis) with the open-ended, interpret-it-however-you-want final shot. After his rampage, Travis purely by chance meets up with Betsy, the woman he idealized and who rightly rejected him as a damaged and possibly dangerous man. She sees him differently now because of his celebrity; she's clearly bought the official account of Travis as vigilante avenger, and she talks to him more warmly, with an undertone of what sounds like awe, or at least receptivity to the idea that there's more to Travis than she thought, and that he might be an amazing person. He drops her off without following up -- a denial that makes him feel more powerful than if he'd tried to score with her again -- and as he pulls away, he glances at his own eyes in the rearview. Then there's a strange dissonant noise, almost like feedback in the theater speakers (sort of like Chase's cut to black that could be the cable going out, come to think of it) and he bats the mirror away so that we're seeing the blurry lights of the city streaming by instead. He looks away from himself.
Why does he look away, though? The easiest explanation is that Travis was not healed or purged by his experience at all; he's still a ticking time bomb. But does the act of batting the mirror aside -- the most literal way of expressing the idea, "I can't look myself in the eye," and thus the answer to the famous, "You talkin' to me?" sequence -- mean that Travis has gained some new self-knowledge, that he recognizes the monster within himself, the truth about himself?
Yes and no.
My friend Stephen Neave has a rant about what he calls the "I don't know ending," which he considers to be the only honest kind of ending to any work that aspires to the label "art." It's an ending that lays out the artist's overall philosophy and intent in terms that are hard to misread, while leaving the specifics to the audience. It's an ending that doesn't just allow you to complete the picture, but demands that you do so.
I think there's more leeway in the definition than he says -- I can think of a lot of great movies that have definitive endings but still could be considered art (rather than simple entertainment or escapism). But I take his point, and I think about it every time I watch a movie. The "I don't know ending" says, "I don't have all the answers, people, and I'm not going to bullshit you and pretend that I do, or that anyone does. Let's pursue this story or argument as far as we can without pretending absolutely certainty, then let the matter drop, and allow everyone who listened or participated go off by themselves and finish it in their own way."
Shit, I guess that was a book.
Now back to your regularly scheduled program, The Heidi Bowl.
While TAXI DRIVER puts us in Travis' head and invites us to feel sympathy for him, I don't think it ever equivocates about the fact that he's insane and dangerous. The irony in the ending, of course, is that once his self-loathing and homicidal impulses are redirected toward a socially acceptable target (mobsters and pimps), he's hailed as a hero, rather than a psychotic - and ultimately pathetic - would-be assassin, ala Arthur Bremer. An interesting grace note on the film is the three-note figure Bernard Herrmann uses immediately after that final shot of Travis looking into his rearview, as the taxi rolls on into the night. It's the same three notes that underscore the silhouette of the Bates house near the end of PSYCHO.
wstroby wrote, "While TAXI DRIVER puts us in Travis' head and invites us to feel sympathy for him, I don't think it ever equivocates about the fact that he's insane and dangerous."
Maybe a discussion of "Taxi Driver" isn't off-topic after all. Scorsese definitely fed Chase's imagination; he's a primary source, in fact.
Don't get me started.
However, I will bring up Eric Hoffer here, who once said that the key to writing (and art) was "to leave every sentence unfinished."
Thanks, Matt: I'm with you -- on "Taxi Driver" and the "Sopranos" ending. (Though, if I was forced to compare apples and oranges ["Sopranos" and "The Wire"], I'd say "Sopranos" is richer, more ambitious and emotionally challenging, even as I very much admire and love watching the more narrow and specific "Wire". Still haven't seen seasons 3 and 4 yet, though.)
I have a similar reading of "Taxi Driver," which shows Travis (literally) disappearing, in that rear-view mirror, into the city that helped create him. Is it "real" or in Travis's head or something? I don't know, and I don't think it matters. What's there on the screen is there on the screen. As one of your (or somebody's!) commenters said: The story is what the storyteller chooses to tell. That's what I think is important about any work of art. Chase worked it beautifully -- and managed to stay true to his vision of the entire series, an amoral world where people are doomed to make the same mistakes over and over and over again. Sounds like purgatory -- but maybe it's just life.
I am a big Sopranos fan but obviously I missed a major detail -- Who is Carlo? I went to the cast page on the web site and he's not there.
The Star-Ledger just published Alan Sepinwall's interview with David Chase. The link is here.
JW: Thank you for spelling out everything I've been dying to say. Was there a line more deftly comedic than the when Agent Harris exclaims "Damn, we're gonna win this thing?" At this point, the analogy between the war on terror and Tony's war with Leotardo has been drawn together so closely that the character in the show forgets that it's even an analogy. I felt like Chase was lightly beating everyone on the head with this point and had to yell it out through the voice of Harris.
Wish, wish, wish I'd been smart enough to write the following: (from anon at 10.39):
"But what a Chase-orchestrated moment! Millions of Americans rise from their couches and as one say “something’s wrong with my TV!” What a great mantra! More comedy from Chase. The one thing that everybody got right -- there is indeed something wrong with your television."
I'm one of those liberal arts types who secretly yearned for a cathartic ending - but adored what we were given after much hard thought (I can nimbly equivocate too, Matt:)).
One thought: did Junior try his befuddled best to tell both Janice & Tony his accountant had run off with his life savings?
Greedy Janice (in ep 85) wryly mentions to Tony about the martian-voiced guy Junior told her about and in the finale Junior tells Tony about the alien from outer space - or similar - who came to see him.
Was Junior, in his dementia, trying to drop clues that his accountant robbed him?
I like to think the crafty old shell of a mobster was still impotently aware - on some level!
I think Chase cheated the audience. He didn't want to do the expected, and nobody expected a crappy ending, so guess what?
This isn't high art, it's entertainment. A nice satisfying blowout would have been good, some low-key moralizing (crime doesn't pay? what a canard!), even better. But what we got instead was the modern art version of a TV drama: don't expect to like or understand it because you're not bright enough to comprehend the artist's genius.
The guy going into the bathroom is Nikki Leotardo.
Although Edward has already debunked this theory, I checked the credits last night and there's no Nikki Leotardo credited anywhere in the episode. But I got emailed this 4 times yesterday. How did an urban legend start in 12 hours?
Daniel said...
From now until the day he finally does die, his life will be a never ending repeat of that dinner, with every single person entering or leaving his vicinity possibly a hit man about to put a bullet into his brain or a federal agent about to slap cuffs on his wrists.
I'm several episodes behind, but I watched the end of last night's episode just to see if anything big actually happened, and I had a reaction almost identical to yours. I thought it was a perfect encapsulation of who Tony has become--someone who'll spend the rest of his life wondering who the next person through the door could be. He's trapped forever in a nightmare of his own creation, which is as fitting of a punishment as I can imagine.
6/12/2007 12:45 AM
Breaking news: Tony has ALWAYS lived a life "wondering who the next person through the door will be." That's the mob life of thieves and liars and double-crossers. We waited 8 years so David Chase could share this "insightful" revelation with us? Tony has always been trrapped in a nightmare of deceipt.
Good entertaining storytelling (which Chase claims was the intent of this series) builds to a crescendo and offers the viewer a suprising, exciting, thought-provoking RESOLUTION. Yes, it can be artful.
Either Chase is merely a mediocre writer (with a great idea for a TV series) or he has played most of his viewers as fools who will think this impotent ending is high art. Please. While highly entertaining and unique for a TV series, this has never been any great work of art. Let's not over-intellectualize an HBO series by a former writer of the Rockford Files.
Great, ground-breaking series? For sure - but with many poorly conceived plot lines, character arcs and resolutions.
Loved the series. HIGHLY dissapointed with the so-called "ending."
Don't drink the Kool-Aid y'all.
A lot of weak writing and story-lines all along and a TERRIBLE ending.
The greatest series that never was.
Two Cents
I agree. Fanatastic character actors who were mostly never fully utilized/realized. Disapointing episodic writing with TOO many open story lines. Weak writing is the culprit. HBO must have had huge fights with Chase but he probably had final cut.
Too bad.
Let me start by saying I loved the Sopranos finale, 95% of it at least. It was the last 5 or 7 minutes that bothered me. I don't have a problem at all with the "whacking of the audience" concept, but what bothered me was that I sensed "CHASE" manipulating me in that last few minutes. From the minute AJ got into his new car blaring the loud music the story became more about what "CHASE" was doing and less about the Sopranos. Can "CHASE" be ending it here, I wondered?
When Tony enters the diner there are some odd moments during the final scene as far as editing. "CHASE" did something weird cutting the scenes together, and why is T wearing a different shirt, or is he? Guess i'll watch it again. Is "CHASE" trying to trick me?
A members only jacket guy walked into the diner! "CHASE" is trying to make me think he's a hitman or FBI...now he's going to the john...I wonder if "CHASE" did this on purpose to evoke the gun behind the terlit tank? "CHASE" is trying to make me think Tony is gonna get whacked the same way Virgil Solotzo (SP) did, or is he trying to show me that T is paranoid?
Even when the credits started rolling I wondered, what music is "CHASE" going to choose to end the Sopranos? no music! Ooooh! "CHASE" chose silence over music! But The credits always have music, special music, chosen by "CHASE!"
To me, this is one of those instances where the style and/or choices of the director distracted me from the content/story. I was engrossed in the episode until the end, then I became distracted by "CHASE," his manipulations, and his cryptic techniques & choices that he used to tell the ending of the story.
Was wondering if anyone else had the same thoughts in the final moments of the show.
Put this up over at Sepinwall, but wanted to add it here to the pot also...
Chase says in his interview there is no bigger Scorcese disciple than him.
In Scorcese's most memorable movies, the main character lives at the end of the film, but must live on in a prison of his making. A fate far worse than death, right?
Henry Hill, Ace Rothstein, Travis Bickle, Jake LaMotta...even Newland Archer in the Age of Innocence. I would say Tony Soprano falls right into this.
(This is off the top of my head, so I might recall a few incorrectly, but I don't think so.)
Besides, do we really think Chase would let Tony (or the audience) off so easy with a quick death?
Another 'couple or t'ree' of my morning-after thoughts: when Carm tells Tony that Meadow will be late at the diner because she's changing her birth control at the doctor's...
One reading that makes sense is that women are advised to go off the pill, and use a barrier method instead, some time before preparing to get pregnant.
Possibly freshly engaged Meadow is doing just that...further hinting a baby may well interrupt Meadow's potential high earning law career (as Tony breezily predicted to Melfi).
Someone at TWOP suggested a lovely interpretation of Meadow's tension-tightening parking problems.
It could also be seen as a neat metaphor for how The Family Daughter has gone back and forth and back and forth again in her struggle to find her own position in The Life.
I get it! I get it! This was a series about cars! Tony & Adrianna's crash. Chris & Paulie in the Pine Barrens van. Chris M's "fatal" crash. Aj's car burning up and FINALLY a parallel parking problem resolution!
I get it! I get it! Brilliant!
A weak gimmick ending, no genius, just cowardice.
"While highly entertaining and unique for a TV series, this has never been any great work of art. Let's not over-intellectualize an HBO series by a former writer of the Rockford Files."
Are entertainment and art mutually exclusive? I don't think so. You must consider the medium when establishing your expectations. A TV series running for 8 years does not need to have an overall story arc to be cohesive. The medium lends itself to a on-and-on-and-on style. The characters have certainly had arcs. They have developed. I think we've seen that these characters have not changed, they are the same, terrible people, but they have developed. What happened in season 3 affects their decisions in season 5. To blow this series off as entertainment only, and not art, is to make a mistake that will be proved wrong decades from now when people are still discussing this show.
Well, I think Chase is just brilliant. I can't believe so many people thought their cable went out. It was BLACK, not static. I just kept staring at the screen waiting for something to pop up. For me, it was just like those old binocular machines at scenic places like Niagara Falls -- where you put in a quarter and get to look at things in closeup. (Do they still have those things?) Then when your quarter is up - BLAM! Down comes the shutter. Just like that. Your quarter is up -- no more viewing for you. It's done, it's over. (And yet, it's all still there when you get out from behind the machine.) Brilliant!!
OR.... could Tony have actually HAD A BLACKOUT - a panic attack???? He's quit seeing Dr. Melfi, and her big accomplishment was stopping the panic attacks, and there's been major stress for him lately. That would really bring things full circle, wouldn't it?? And speaking of which, to me that's what the onion rings represent -- Chase bringing things full circle. And they each popped them into their mouths whole, even Carmella if you can believe that, thus keeping the circle unbroken.
As has been mentioned, the opening song was "You Keep Me Hangin' On" by Vanilla Fudge, which has to be my all-time favorite rock song. It's a fabulous cover of the Supremes' hit. The first words are what I think Chase is singing as an artist letting go of his work: "Set me free, why dontcha babe..." Or maybe he's singing them to us, the audience. Of course Chase doesn't actually let us hear the words, just the intro and thus the suggestion. Brilliant.
Matt earlier discussed the "I don't know ending," in which the creator tells the audience, "I don't have all the answers, people, and I'm not going to bullshit you and pretend that I do, or that anyone does."
I don't quite agree. For 85 episodes, the series was shot from the point of view of an omniscient storyteller. Simply saying "I don't know what happens next" abandons that role.
But I think Chase did something different. He's not saying "I don't know." He's saying, "the story continues, but you don't get to keep watching." Tony wasn't whacked; at least that's not the way I saw it. I think Chase pretty clearly hit us all over the head with the idea that "the movie never ends; it goes on and on and on and on." In other words, the same patterns we've seen these characters repeat again and again and just going to keep repeating. Tony will keep being Tony, and A.J. will keep being Tony Jr., enjoying brief insights that do nothign to change his life. (After all, "the turd doesn't fall far from the faggot's ass," as Phil so eloquently put it.)
Maybe this means something and maybe it doesn't, however, there happened to be a USAToday laying around the office today and I glanced at a Sopranos article. According to this article, there were no alternate endings filmed and the version filmed is the same one that was originally read by the cast at the final script reading (except for the silent blackout at the end). It also said that a final page of the script in which Meadow does actually enter Holstens and sits down next to Tony was eventually not used.
If we assume that these facts are correct (and let's be honest, USAToday is, perhaps, a bit better than some random sources on the internet, but I would not go so far as to say that, if it was in USAToday, it MUST be true.), this would seem to imply that the "Life goes on in its own hellish way" interpretation must be correct. Of course, the original script may have just had Meadow sitting down next to Tony first and, THEN, Tony getting whacked... before Chase decided to go with the blackout ending.
Regardless, several people involved in that last day of filming, including the "member's only guy" all seem to be saying the same thing: Specifically, that the filmed ending was very, very clear and not subject to any off-the-wall interpretations which the "blackout" ending created. In other words, a lot of people, including apparently a bunch of walk-ons, know what happens to Tony in the split second after the screen went black for the viewer. Eventually, a few of them are going to talk and we will learn the real truth. Frankly, I prefer us each having our own interpretation (though, I will say, for the record, that I think a lot of the long-winded, overly complex theories about, for example the member's only guy being Nicky Leotardo... he's not... or the whole thing being a dream, etc., etc., etc. are a load of crap).
Watching the ending, it worked for me. I took it as a "life goes on" ending. When the music cut off, I smiled: this was Chase's retort to all the guessing games about the last song: he chose silence instead. Heh. I didn't suspect any cable outage.
But then I started to read the black-out = Tony whacked theories, and the argument has plausibility, particularly from a structural perspective -- the way a very deliberate editing pattern was set up so that each time the door bell tinkled, Tony looked up, and then we cut to his POV of the person coming in the door.
And yet, I just don't see that a *dispositive* case can be made for Tony being whacked based on the available evidence. It's possible, but by no means clear, or definite.
Anyway my current thought about the ending is this: I would be fine with a life-goes-on ending. And I would be fine with a Tony-gets-shot ending. Either approach would work for me. But the ending as we have it seems to quite deliberately straddle the line of ambiguity, and the more I think about it, the more it strikes me as a silly, rather meaningless gimmick of an ending - a trick without substance - the sole virtue of which is that it got people worked up and talking about the show.
CAN'T STOP TURNING THIS OVER IN MY HEAD!!!
While I still don't subscribe to the "Tony was whacked" theory, here's something to consider:
We know Member's Only guy (MOG) is Italian. We never heard him speak or order food, so we don't know MOG is Italian-American or full-blooded Italian. Meaning -- if Tony could send over to Italy for a couple of hitmen, why couldn't Butchie?
If MOG is a hitman from Italy, his actions mirror those of the hitmen sent after (who they thought) was Phil. The hitmen sit in the car, waiting for a glimpse of Phil. When they get it, they check the picture, then go in for the hit.
MOG sees a big guy go into Holstein's, but can't be sure. He follows him in to get a better look. He sits at the bar, making sure it is Tony. (But not saying anything, because he only speaks Italian and/or very little English.)
Since he's in the restaurant, he can't check the picture of Tony. So he goes to the bathroom to double-check the picture he has in his pocket. He comes out, ready to do the deed...and blackout.
OR --
He realizes it's Tony, and prepares to kill him, but when with his whole family there, he either feels bad and decides to wait until another day, or remembers the credo that "families are always left out" and decides to wait until another day.
That of course, feeds back into the notion that death is always waiting just around the corner for the rest of his days...
We also have some meta-info on this, courtesy of the newspaper article on the actor playing MOG, a pizzeria owner, who is from Naples, and whom the casting director discovered when she was looking for an ITALIAN looking guy, aged 30-50.
About the final scene:
(1) The beginning of the diner scene. Tony stands off to the side, watching himself at the table. Could this be Tony after he was shot, looking back on his final moments of life? He was dressed in a solemn, almost formal way.
(2) I'm sure this will seem to many like a stretch, but when I saw the 3 family members each eat an onion ring, I thought that they were eating the number zero.
(3) At the exact moment of the fade to black, the lyrics were the two words: "don't stop".
@ Anonymous 6/12/2007 1:25 PM:
I agree. I think the message was this: We seen the people in the family, including Tony, have ample opportunity to change their ways, turn away from this life, wake up from the denial they've been living in for so long. And at every opportunity to do so, at every glimpse of a way out, they've rejected it, choosing to remain "comfortably numb."
"Made in America" finally finds Tony, Carmela, AJ and Meadow fully committed to that denial. The push and pull has ended of the past 8 years has ended. In that diner, they are what they are. And despite the peril they face so ominously, they choose to ignore it.
Even as the soundtrack implores us, the audience, to "Don't stop believin'" that they can change, we know they can't, we know they won't. And so the best thing to do is switch them off, mid-scene, and leave them to the fates they deserve.
As a huge fan of Chase and The Soprano's, I liked the ending and have spent much of the day defending it to "non-believers." That being said, I have been bothered by a number of specific questions.
For instance, why the prolonged parking scene? Why does it cut out before Meadow is seated at the table? Why not cut out when all four of them are seated?
These are deliberate choices. Though I have always admired Chase for doing it his way and breaking conventions, I never got the sense he broke the rules for the sake of breaking them. There was a reason(more true depiction of the human condition, etc.).
He has always defied our expectations for reasons greater than simply to play "gotcha." So, what is the significance of those above mentioned choices and how do they directly relate to the story and the characters (more than just he was trying to subvert our expectations or he was showing us the paranoia that Tony will live with, etc.)?
To the guy who wants to bet a week's paycheck on why Chase included the shots of Rove and Bush dancing:
You're the kind of bettor that made Tony rich.
I know there's this seething urge to turn this wonderful show into an attack add against the GOP. It's just not valid. Those dancing shots were to indict AJ, not the dancers. AJ, who only days before was ponitificating about the horrors of his government, now laughs like a stoner at the sight of those who were the objects of his rage. True Blue conviction bought off by a shiny new Beemer. That's all.
David Chase is quoted as saying today about the final episode: “People get the impression that you’re trying to (mess) with them, and it’s not true. You’re trying to entertain them,” he said. “Anybody who wants to watch it, it’s all there.”
[Is the final episode entitled “Made in USA” or “Made in America”?]
I think the “Members Only” character may be another red herring, just as the recurrence of white shoes or the staring cat are. When Chase says, “Anybody who wants to watch it, it’s all there,” I think he means just that. We have just spent 85 episodes with Tony in therapy, having what he does (or what he says to her he does) and what was done to him analyzed. So we the viewers come to expect an analysis of what we have just seen (Gloria’s throwing the steak, AJ’s suicide attempt, etc.). “We want to get at root causes,” as Melfi says.
Until the penultimate episode of Season 6, despite her own therapist’s long-time warnings, Melfi, like Carmela, can’t leave Tony. Melfi tries to help him with his panic attacks by getting at these so-called “root causes”. She gets there (or thinks she gets there) with the gabalgool (sp?) flashback. But what if gabalgool is just gabalgool and Melfi is full of it? So what if the mother is a sociopath? And what if an Italian guy in a “Members Only” jacket going to the men’s room is just an Italian guy in a “Members Only” jacket going to the men’s room and we are full of it with our own analyses? I think it is significant that Melfi is never seen again after that explosive scene with Tony. [I would argue that the manner in which she dumps him is more controversial than the way we the viewers are dumped with the blackout, though the two parallel each other.] Chase & co. have gotten the viewer used to interpretations and analyses of actions and events in 85 episodes of this 86 episode series. The one surviving character of the Sopranos we don’t see at all in any scene in “Made in America”: Jennifer Melfi. Her “replacement,” A.J.’s therapist, can only smile and be silent when Tony starts the same loop re: his horrible mother with her. It’s just the same old story.
I think titles of previous episodes play a part in the final moments of Episode 86. “Members Only”, as everyone knows, refers to the title of the first episode of the 6th season, the jacket being worn, I believe, by the eventual suicide Gene Pontecorvo. “Two Unidentified Black Males” refers to Vito’s telling someone to come up with two black guys on whom to pin a fight witnessed by Finn at the work site in Season 5. “Long-Term Parking” refers to Adrianna’a car being driven by Christopher and parked in long-term parking at, I believe, Newark Airport.
These titles are ironic in that they mean something else, or something more than what they mean outside of the context of each respective show. We can analyze them just as Melfi analyzes Tony. “Long-Term Parking” really means that Adrianna is not coming back for a long, long time so that she won’t be needing her car. Is the same true for Meadow? Did Tony see her get shot, like Adrianna by Sil, by the two black males who preceded her inside the restaurant? Or did it just take her a long time to park because she is a poor driver (referenced earlier in Season 6) and it means nothing more than that? Meadow’s parallel parking was excruciating because, each time she failed, we expected it to mean something else (the show has, via Melfi, trained us to do so). It must mean that she is going to be 1) killed outside the restaurant; or 2) saved because of timing.
I don’t buy that the Members Only guy is a hit man. I do think the jacket is significant and used specifically because it is something we have been given earlier in the season and which we have been trained to look for as a clue to meaning something else, a root cause. In the universe of “The Sopranos”, an Italian man + “Members Only” jacket = a bad guy. It’s a stereotype. Just as to Vito Spatafore and a lot of other people both in the Sopranos universe (and outside of it), two unidentified African American men are the go-to guys for finger-pointing (something, ironically, Meadow railed against). I am sure a lot of people watching the final moments of Episode 86, already stressed out, instinctively had thoughts of the two black men about to be up to no good (as Tony thought the two Arabs must be when he saw them near a mosque), despite the fact that the imaginary couple of black guys conjured up by Vito were not the culprits in the episode entitled “Unidentified Black Men”. We expect all this to mean something else. Sometimes an onion ring is just an onion ring.
[Other titles are visited earlier in Episode 86: The theme song “Woke up this morning and got (?) myself a gun” is recreated at the opening with Tony waking up in the safe house; “Whitecaps” which referred to a “Kennedy-like” compound beach home for the Sopranos in an earlier season, now refers to the depressing, smelly house where the Sopranos hide at the beach in the final episode; “Do Not Resuscitate” referred to the DNR for Livia in Season 2, but refers perhaps to Sil in the coma. Both Melfi and Chase recognize that this is really the same story no matter how you look at it, a loop, these people are not going to change, despite Janice always saying how much she and Tony have changed. So that the “stop” and of the Journey song and blackout is Chase stopping abruptly (a blank computer screen) just as Melfi stood up and abruptly stopped treating Tony, not necessarily Tony getting whacked. We the viewer are as mad at Chase as Tony is at Melfi. “After 7 years this is it?!” But the story has already been told and the characters are not going to change, doomed to the loop of the series they inhabit. There is a symmetry to the titles of all the episodes: The title of episode 1 is “The Sopranos”; the title of the final episode is “Made in America”. It's like the cover of the complete series box set.]
I think the final moments of Episode 86 are not about Tony, Carmela, AJ, and Meadow (after all, we already know their story, that things will not end happily ever after even before they arrive at the diner; Meadow and AJ have made their choices, as did Carmela when she allowed Tony back for the $600,000; it doesn’t really matter when Tony gets whacked at the diner or is arrested goes to jail three weeks later, his fate has already been knocking on the door (“Soprano Home Movies” starts with the police banging on the door and Carmela asks “Is this it?” “Made in America” ends with another anxiety-causing door opening) and will possibly be behind every door. I think it is more about the viewer, what he or she has come to expect/demand from this brilliant series.
When I initially saw the episode, I thought the draining of the pool in Episode 85 symbolized the end of the Sopranos. We first see Tony in the pool with the ducks (in Ep. 1 he shows Meadow, AJ, and Hunter, who reappears in Ep. 86 just as the Sopranos are about the take flight (either because the show is ending or because the character's lives are about to end at the diner). So that with the pool empty there is no place for the ducks to return. And in the diner they could be sitting ducks awaiting ... but perhaps that is over-analyzing.
Thanks for a great blog! I will miss this show.
Upon a second viewing, I'm more convinced than ever that the "Members Only" guy is NOT a hit man, and it's the viewer who's whacked at the blackout...
The title, "Made in America", is a common phrase that's becoming an anachronism (certainly in Chase's universe).
What the wise guys call "this thing of our's" is running against the current trend of America's gestalt (as witnessed the shrinking of Little Italy).
Vehicles, often characterized by their country of origin, play a very visible role in this episode.
- Phil's head is crushed by what is prominently shown to be a Ford
- Meadow, who now seems to be a junior member of Tony's "thing", has problems parking her foreign car. AJ, who is NOT yet onboard, darts easily around in his BMW and effortlessly parallel parks to pick up his hot new girlfriend.
Which leads to the blackout ending.
Both "made" (the "Member's Only" guy) and "America" (the fat guy in the USA cap drinking coffee with multiple creams and lots of sugar) are presented simply as symbols of foreboding, NOT actual physical threats to Tony (not at this moment anyway).
Alas, we the viewer, only vicarious members of Tony's club, will not be around long enough to see these forces play out.
Here's a new thought. Tony's issue with the ducks and his depression was that the ducks leaving the pool represented his family leaving him. After 8 years, Tony has found a way to make sure that doesn't happen. Carmela is in for the long haul, we saw that played out in season 5. The kids developments were this season. AJ is now apparently settled into the Jersey life. He's not going to kill himself or join the army. He's going to go to work for one of Dad's business associates. Even though Tony never wanted the Family life for AJ, I think he needed to bring him in to keep him around, and the Lil Carmine route may have been something he could justify. Meadow is marrying the son of another associate. The ducks are not leaving the pool. They are there to stay. So, despite indictments hanging overhead and close friends dead or nearly dead, could this be a "happy" ending for Tony?
What annoys me is that there are any number of ways Chase could have added a single shot to the sequence, and have gotten his point across much more clearly, if indeed his point was to show Tony being whacked. For example, a one-second shot of Meadow coming in the door, from Tony's POV, then cut to black (this would establish that the black screen was indeed Tony's POV).
What bothers me most, I suppose, is that the ending here seems to depend on solving a formal visual puzzle - but what does puzzling out the meaning of a clever, obliquely edited sequence have to do with the thematic concerns of the Sopranos?
If you want to end it with a whack, end it with a whack - present it as obliquely as you like, but not, for pete's sake CRYPTICALLY.
In short, the sequence should have been shot and edited in such a way that people GOT IT. Obviously, most people didn't get it -- indeed, most critics called it a "non-ending ending".
A better filmmaker could have summoned up the same aesthetic values of rendering Tony's death in an oblique, "sideways," anti-melodramatic fashion, WHILE AT THE SAME TIME MAKING IT CLEAR THAT TONY HAD IN FACT BEEN SHOT.
I'm in the "Tony got whacked" camp. It just makes too much sense. Chase has been building this up all season long, with the repeated references to Lincoln and Kennedy, "you probably don't even hear it when it happens" that one not once but twice, then even Philly "Pop Pop" Leotardo takes one in the noggin -- wonder what life looked like for him at that moment, probably abruptly cut to black. (I also want to mention that while I'm not a violence-lover, I did enjoy the "say bye bye to Pop Pop" to the grandbabies, then seconds later we see the grandbabies in the backseat make a subtle "buh-bump" right over Pop Pop's head.)
As for the who and why? Really could be any number of people. But I think it was a direct retaliation for knocking off Phil, and done in the same manner -- in the brain, in front of the family - wouldn't that be "real greaseball shit"? How could the assassin know where they were? Perhaps in the same sneaky way that T found out about Phil's location, some friend somewhere along the line, maybe someone tailing AJ -- a co-worker at the movie company overhearing a phone call about dinner plans, or jeez, just asking AJ when he might see his Dad again would probably give you everything you need.
If it's not Tony getting whacked, then we're left with a pretty terrible ending. One interpretation is "life goes on, repeat the cycle, etc" but if that's the case, I think there's a better way to visually illustrate that as opposed to the abrupt cut to black, after a series of TENSE moments and a number of clues pointing to the former theory of T's death, that seems clumsy to propose the mysterious ending if indeed DC wanted us to feel that the doomed Soprano family will continue on in suburban futility with blood on their hands. The only thing in the final sequence that supports this theory are the lyrics to "Don't Stop Believin', and I like to believe that after years of building this show and especially this moment, that the whole thing is pinned to a Journey lyric.
The song seems more like a setpiece, like the nostaligic restaurant, and the subtle, gentle smile shared between Tony and Carm when she sits at the booth. This is a place they know from their youth, and perhaps this song was playing, once upon a time.
This show was Chase's baby. Something I'm guessing he's had simmering on the backburner for years. I don't think any creative producer, writer, director who's been working in Hollywood for over two decades and finally gets to produce the show of his dreams on a network that will let him, I don't think someone in that position would let this moment of moments -- the finale -- turn into a blatent "up yours" to the audience or become a cheap headfake or throwaway. This was carefully crafted. He knew how this would end: killing Tony with the poetic stroke that he used to create him and not showing the blood. Tony never heard it coming and neither did we.
Judging from the debate over the final sequence, which shows no sign of subsiding, nothing makes people angrier than refusing to give a definitive answer.
And I'm really sorry to have to say this, folks, but Chase and his crew are very meticulous in how they compose, light, direct and edit scenes. There is no definitive evidence that Tony got shot. You can say that there is all you want to, but that doesn't make it so. That Chase laid out so many bits of visual grammar indicating paranoia and impending violence (including that brief tracking shot of Members Only guy heading into the bathroom) doesn't indicate a goddamn thing except that Chase wanted us to think that there was a possibility that Tony or his family might get killed in that restaurant, not that they actually did get killed.
According to interviews with various actors who are familiar with the shooting of that sequence, and an early assemblage of that scene, it ended with a particular patron (I'm not definitively sure which one) looming in the vicinity of Tony in a manner that could possibly be interpreted as menacing. Chase decided that was tipping the scene too much in favor of the "Tony gets killed" interpretation, so he cut it off after Tony looks up. In other words, the scene is intentionally constructed to deny a definitive interpretation. Maybe he died, maybe his family died, maybe they all had onion rings and went home. Any interpretation is plausible as long as it it based on evidence from the world Chase constructed, and consistent with the bleak and sometimes absurdist tone established in six seasons.
I recently had an email exchange with a friend of mine, a filmmaker who never watched an entire episode of the show, who insisted, based on a reading of the grammar of that final sequence of shots, that Tony got killed. I offered a counter-interpretation based on the same shots, and augmented with knowledge of Chase as a writer, producer and filmmaker, established over six seasons. Either of us could be right. That's why it's ambiguous.
The ending of "Blow Up" pissed people off, too. And as I have noted in this forum previously, the final shot sequence of "Citizen Kane," revealing the object attached to Kane's last word "Rosebud," does not explain the meaning of that word at all, much less decode the man's character. But over the past six-plus decades, inferior filmmakers and impatient viewers have just made up their minds to believe that "Rosebud" equals Kane's lost innocence, or the normal childhood he should have had that would have made him a fully functioning person, or the rural America that was shunted to the margins by the rise of the cities and their industries, or what have you. All those meanings are potentially encoded in "Rosebud," but Orson Welles himself called the whole device "Dollar-book Freud," basically a joke on the idea that there's one piece of the puzzle that can explain a man's character. And still successive generations of viewers have refused to accept it.
Perhaps it's in our nature.
NEWS FLASH:
40% of those polled are greatly disappointed in how “The Sopranos” ended. Only 25% approve.
Alas, how did it come to this? Fathers arguing with their sons; brother against brother; friend against friend. Throughout the world, harshness and bitterness is being expressed over how “The Sopranos” saga has, at long last, concluded. Some say the ending was fine, others bitterly disagree.
Here in my neighborhood of Down Neck Newark, there have actually been, believe it or not, *fistfights* in and just outside bars, upscale eateries and multinational fast food establishments regarding the last episode.
How did it come to this? ... I redundantly ax.
Look, we are all reasonable people here. And as reasonable people and in an attempt to bring some kind of “peace” to this bitter dispute, I will now make a confession. ...
Yesterday afternoon – my having posted to these episode-by-episode threads over the past few weeks a number of times – yesterday afternoon I posted my comments on Sunday’s controversial ending and, basically, at that time, I fell into the camp of those who are bitterly disappointed in the ending. In short, I felt the ending was a “copout” by David Chase.
I even went so far as to remind our gracious and knowledgeable host, Matt Zoller Seitz, that in a previous episode-thread, a couple of weeks ago, he had stated that Tony Soprano *had* to, ultimately, be punished for the ending of the series to be acceptable, at least for him. And so my question to Matt yesterday was -- So, he didn’t get punished, Matt, therefore how can the ending, to your way of thinking, be acceptable?
Then, and only then, *after* I posted my bitter comments on the ending, did I began to read the posts in this thread. And, ooooh, ooooooooooh, what a horrible, horrible, *unforgivable* mistake I made! .. Why? ... Because the Soprano mavens in this thread, the regulars, are so good and so remarkably intelligent in their observations and comments (and that's is no shit, Sherlock) that they’ve convinced me – yes, CONVINCED ME – that that the ending to "The Sopranos" was not only adequate & acceptable, but downright excellent. Excellent in that it was in keeping with the high standards established throughout the run of the series.
I doff my hat to them! I type before you ... a humbled man. (Note: Humility being something I can fake just as good as my sincerity bit.)
And so, at this point, considering the insightful remarks of others in this thread, the overwhelming majority of whom believe the ending to be quite good -- given that -- I am now willing to admit that I was w-w-w-w-w-w … that I was w-w-w-w-w-w- ... excuse me, that I was w-w-w-w-w-w-w WRONG!!!
Wrong, wrong, wrong in saying that the ending was a copout on David Chase’s part.
And as for Tony being punished, Matt, indeed, he *was* punished, if only because he has to live the rest of his life in the hell he’s created for himself and his family.
Quoting you at length, Matt, if I may:
"Down Neck Tony: I never said that Tony being punished (in the traditional gangster movie way: death or prison) would be the only right or defensible way to end the series. But there was a time when I said it it was the only ending that would fully satisfy me personally. I don't like movies and TV shows that take no moral stand whatsoever on heinous actions and the people who commit them. There were times when "The Sopranos" seemed to fall into that category -- times when the show became what it beheld -- but I think as it went along, particularly from Season Three onward, the lapses became less frequent, and when they happened they seemed more out of character and thus more jarring. Finding human savagery grimly amusing is not immoral, but getting off on pain is. Attraction-repulsion to a brutal character is fine; uncritical hero-worship is not. "The Sopranos" has always had a difficult time staying on the right side of that line, but I think they mostly walked it, and to an extent, the entire Sixth Season was about that line, and the audience's perception of that line -- whether it's necessary, where it is, when it should be observed and ignored.
"Throughout the show's run, and even in the final stretch, I did harbor some hope that Tony would get killed or arrested, yes, because I thought just ending the series with "and life went on for the gangster and his family" would be a cop-out.
"But in these last six episodes I've come around to the idea that the decline and fall of Tony's trashy little empire is, in fact, his punishment."
Kee-rect!
Therefore, I want everyone in this blog to know that there won’t be any more objections from me, Down Neck Tony, as to how the series ended.
And mean that.
From the bottom.
And, so, my previous ill-conceived negative comments aside, let me say that I swear, on the souls of my feet or else on the souls of my grandchildren, whichever goes or comes first, that I will not be the one to break the intellectual peace that I hope I have created with my humble, abject, remarkably cloying apology.
Yes, yes, yes-yes I know some will still say that the ending was a copout. And in a gesture of sincerity, humility, reconciliation and good will, I say unto them: SCREW YOU! WHAT THE HELL DO YOU KNOW, YOU SCHMUCKS?
Err, I mean ... Well, you know what I mean. Even if I don’t.
And so let’s all agree that even if you didn’t like the ending, which at first I myself didn’t like, that we are all reasonable people here and that in that spirit so should we remain.
However, I must say, too, that I’m a superstitious man and if some unlucky accident should befall me ... if I should get shot in the head with a spitball over by Branch Brook Park (David Chase & Tony Soprano’s turf) ... or should Matt arrange for my subscription to the Newark Star-Ledger to mysteriously be cancelled ... or should my dog, Virgil Stollozo, get struck by a bolt of lightning, or hang himself some night just after watching “Entertainment Tonight” --then I'm going to *blame* some people in this blog. And that, I do not forgive.
In all seriousness, Matt, a great blog. It was only until I started reading it, about 3 weeks ago, did I realize how great "The Sopranos" really is.
Down Neck Tony
Matt wrote: "In other words, the scene is intentionally constructed to deny a definitive interpretation."
I agree with you about the intent of the filmmakers in constructing the scene, but disagree on whether that approach provided an effective ending to the series. As noted earlier: "the ending as we have it seems to quite deliberately straddle the line of ambiguity, and the more I think about it, the more it strikes me as a silly, rather meaningless gimmick of an ending - a trick without substance - the sole virtue of which is that it got people worked up and talking about the show."
I think your comparison to Citizen Kane is misplaced. While the sleigh in that film does not have a clear, fixed meaning, it provides a very rich symbol that resonates with the narrative on any number of levels. Thus, the conclusion of Kane is ambiguous, but satisfying. One could say the same thing of the ending of films like The Birds or Taxi Driver, or stories like The Turn of the Screw or Billy Budd: ambiguous but satisfying.
So it's not simply the case that "refusing to give a definitive answer" automatically makes people angry. In the right hands, an ambiguous ending can be deeply satisfying.
The problem with the ending of the Sopranos is not that it is ambiguous, but rather that the ambiguity comes off as a rather chilly little gimmick - a trick without substance - lacking any of the deep resonance or thematic overtones that make ambiguous endings effective in those works that successfully employ them.
Tina: I think the final sequence of
"The Sopranos" does resonate on multiple levels, all of them consistent with what came before, and therefore it's appropriate and defensible. I'm willing to argue with anyone who says that it could have been done more effectively, or perhaps that Chase overdid the paranoid/impending violence moments, to the point where some viewers expected and even demanded to see what was apparently promised. But I can't accept the notion that this is a gimmick or that Chase was just being lazy. The sequence connects with the rest of "The Sopranos" on multiple levels, all of them discussed and debated in this thread. And since I first published this article, many commenters have built a convincing case for the idea that Chase did, in fact, give us all the closure to which we felt we were entitled -- he made us do a bit of work.
As for "Citizen Kane," I stand by what I said. I never said the ending meant nothing; in fact, the ambiguity of it, the refusal to assign it just one dominant meaning, is in itself a statement on the unknowability of the human personality and the mystery of experience. All the reductive films and television programs that borrowed from "Kane" only to conclude by giving something like an answer to the mystery can't diminish the power of the source. There's a "Peanuts" cartoon where Lucy "ruins" that movie by telling Linus that Rosebud is the sled. That's a great joke on a lot of levels, but it's also confirmation that Lucy can't appreciate that movie. Yes, it's the sled, but it's not just the sled.
I also don't think that bringing up "The Birds" as a counterexample really works. In that movie, we never find out why the birds are attacking, and we never find out why they stopped. The birds themselves are about as open-ended symbol as movies have ever offered. You can read all sorts of allegory into that movie -- the birds as a manifestation of the characters' guilt or lies, or retribution for human arrogance, or the revenge of the despoiled environment, or simply as a straightforward symbol for random chaos and death -- precisely because its central device is not defined beyond its status as a physical menace to the human characters.
Down Neck Tony's about-face notwithstanding, I don't see a lot of people who hate the ending coming around to liking it. But I don't buy that it's in any way a betrayal, or that it came out of nowhere, or that it was David Chase saying, "Fuck you for watching." It was the right ending for a series filled with narrative ellipses, sudden death, out-of-nowhere cruelty and sick jokes -- and a series where people keep repeating the same patterns, the same choices, over and over. "The movie never ends/it goes on and on and on and on." The scorpion has stung us many, many times before. We were warned. This time it was a lethal dose.
Matt, you offer a very eloquent take on Citizen Kane that I agree with completely. Alas, I see no such depth in the ending of the Sopranos, no such resonances arising from a carefully constructed, but essentially rather shallow ambiguous ending. I re-read your take on this, and am not persuaded by the case you present. I didn't hate the ending, and nor do I think it's a betrayal, or that Chase is lazy (if nothing else, the sequence is beautifully constructed, and bears up under repeated viewing). To my mind, the ending is flat and simply doesn't work. In a way that I haven't gathered my thoughts sufficiently to articulate, beyond a general impression of gimmickry, the ending strikes me as wrong -- not a crime, but a definite artistic misstep. Maybe someday I'll watch and say, "I get it!" But I rather doubt it.
P.S. I actually read that Peanuts strip as a child before seeing Citizen Kane... it always kind of pissed me off that Schultz did that.
Tiny--
Well, I did the best I could tonight. Maybe I'll try again some other time, or maybe we'll just have to agree to disagree on this one.
Sorry I typed "Tina" on that first reply. It's been a long day.
If you watch closely, every time we hear the bell we see Tony look at the door and then we see what he is looking at. As the bell rings when Meadow is supposed to come in, Tony looks up and sees nothing. Clear evidence that Tony is dead.
The Sopranos is gone, (The Birds is coming!) and we’re not all getting along as AJ wanted us to. The philistines are pissed because they need everything explained to them, and the academics are happy because they’re better at comprehending ambiguity (Hamlet, you know, and Antonioni, and the Chekovian comedies). And the rest of us are annoyed because we thought our cables went out and found that distracting. I would have been happy either way. Tony getting whacked in front of the family all over the onion rings would have been nice. And if life went on and Meadow came in and ordered a hot fudge sundae, that would have been fine with me too. I just wish I hadn’t been thinking about my cable when I should have been engrossed.
For what it’s worth, Matt, I was in an Upper East Side theater during the first run of Blowup in 1966 and I can still remember the wave of disgust and fury when the audience realized it wasn’t going to find out what happened to the dead guy in the grass. Ambiguous endings seem to have become somewhat of a trope of postmodernist fiction and film. I was disappointed to see Chase go for what I see as a creative escape hatch.
I like this blog. I loved the Sopranos for a while. But now that it’s over (and after this last series of episodes), I really wish I cared more.
Matt, I'm a bit late to the party, but in regards to an interpretation of the abrupt final cut, what do you think of the idea that this just emphasizes that no moment in Tony's life is now any more meaningful than the next?
It seems to me that the primary reason The Sopranos existed as a TV show was to track the possibility of Tony's redemption, specifically through his therapy with Melfi. When Melfi (and thus we) realizes that there is no possibility of redemption for Tony, and shuts the door on him, the show's whole purpose has vanished. It becomes clear that Tony is irredeemable, and so the track of his life is now laid down in stone.
The abrupt cut is just to emphasize that fact. There is no one moment of Tony's life that will have any more significance than any other now. Since he has proven himself incapable of changing his course, he is just going to keep on keeping on, as things steadily get worse and he destroys everyone around him. You can extend the final scene to the end of that family dinner at the diner, or to the next day, or to his death. It doesn't matter, because it's all the same.
I agree with Tiny Montgomery: "I didn't hate the ending, and nor do I think it's a betrayal, or that Chase is lazy (if nothing else, the sequence is beautifully constructed, and bears up under repeated viewing). To my mind, the ending is flat and simply doesn't work."
It probably doesn't matter that this story thread or that story thread was not resolved. In my opinion, the problem is with the "big picture" of the ending. The ending is not an ending! There is no feeling of closure, of resolution. There is no feeling from the show to the viewers of "thank you, and goodbye".
So I think the reaction of many viewers, feeling they got less than they expected, is thoroughly reasonable.
Episode 86 was wondeful in how it showed, in so many ways, the resistance of the characters to positive change, the incredible power of homeostatis, to keep things just as they are. The episode was great. But it's too much of a stretch to defend it as an ending for the entire show.
Okay, after mulling it over for three days and watching the ending a few times, I've returned to my initial conclusion that Tony is alive. His punishment is not death, but rather to live with himself and to suffer the gnawing uncertainty and anxiety that comes with being a literal target.
Every time the bell rings, he must look up to see who it is. (A torturous Pavlovian existence.)
(I reserve the right to change my mind, especially since I'm still uncertain about the meaning of the edit where Tony enters the diner and "sees" himself sitting.)
I have to admit that I am beginning to go a little bit crazy, listening to the complaints about the ending. The standard complaint (and not just here, but everywhere I read and/or talk to people about it) seems to go something like: "with minimal effort and little added screen time, Chase could have showed us exactly what happens to Tony in the last scene". Come on, people!! Are we REALLY that obtuse? Do you really only accept the reality of things we can see and feel? I really believe that we've finally begun to reap the final rewards of the MTV generation where life has officially been reduced something we watch in short, self-contained snippets on TV or our computers rather than something to be lived viscerally with experiences that often have no obvious end or beginning or even meaning without a lifetime of perspective. Anything or anybody that is not clearly labeled and defined and reducible to a couple of easily digestible talking points is suddenly a complete and utter mystery and worth only of being shunned.
Suppose, for example, Tony did NOT get whacked in Holstein's. Suppose, him and his family enjoyed an old fashioned of hamburgers and fries and laughed and joked the night away just like the other 50 people in the restaurant that night and went home. Then what? Would this have been an acceptable ending? Would that have only been acceptable if we also got a flash forward to the year 2015, where we see Tony get whacked for a completely different reason, or to the year 2037 where we see Tony die in prison? How complete of an ending do you really need before you consider yourself fulfilled? Should the final episode have been 22 hours long and followed every single remaining character through the entire remainder of their existence up to and including their final descent into the fires of hell???
Get over yourselves, people. You got your ending... and a pretty darn good one, I might add. There is NO mystery. Chase told you EXACTLY what happens: Tony lives the rest of his life in the same miserable world where his family continues to suffer due to his choices.... where every minute of every day is fraught with danger... with potential hitmen... with potential rats recording his every word... with undercover Feds waiting to slap on cuffs. This will continue until death ends it... whether death came on Sunday night with a bullet in the back of his head in a booth at Holsteins, or 15 years from now from a heart attack in a maximum-security, federal penitentiary, or 30 years from now from a stroke while fishing away his retirement in Boca. The time and cause of death are not the least bit relevant. If you don't get that, well, I hate to be the one to break the news to you, but you wasted 86 hours of your life watching a show that you never understood.
Couple more things made in America:
"Found on Road, Dead" - a punchline made in America.
The old "Anticipation" ketchup commercials? Made in America.
The catalytic converter was made in America. By a Bloomfield, NJ native, no less.
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