'The Sopranos': Fade to black

It was an ending that, if nothing else, had millions on their feet. In what may be the first case of finalus interruptus, David Chase, faced with deciding between a bang and a whimper, chose neither. Instead the creator of “The Sopranos” decided to fool millions of Americans into believing their cable had gone out for possibly the most important moment in the history of televised drama.

The final scene of the final episode of “The Sopranos” had all the elements of traditional climax down to the benign plate of onion rings Tony “ordered for the table.” As the Soprano family gathered in a diner, the light was mellow, the talk was mundane and Tony (James Gandolfini) kept one eye on the door, watching any number of possible assassins or smug federal agents as they poured sugar in their coffee or visited the men’s room (possibly to retrieve, à la “The Godfather,” their weapons cache). Then, just as Meadow (Jamie-Lynn Sigler) joined the group, and the tension became virtually unbearable — szzzz. Blank screen.

For several agonizing moments, America was united ... in uttering every profanity known to man as millions of hands reached for millions of remotes, while partners and friends yelled, “No, no, don’t touch it!”

Then, silently, the credits began to roll and somewhere Chase was, no doubt, having a pretty good laugh.

Not a predictable way to end what is now constantly referred to as the most significant television show ever, but then Chase has reveled in his unpredictability from the start. Certainly the show’s setup — a depressed mob boss seeks solace in psychotherapy — was a bit off-template. And through the eight years the show has ruled cable, Chase has consistently refused to bend for dramatic convention; the creation of characters and situations that rose to shuddering heights only to disappear two beats before climax has become one of his hallmarks. The Russian mobster simply disappeared into the snow; this season Little Vito seemed primed to “go Columbine” only to vanish from the scene. In the previous episode, Chase summarily dispensed with the beloved Dr. Melfi (Lorraine Bracco) through a rat-a-tat series of ridiculous events that had the psychiatric community in an uproar last week  — no self-respecting shrink would allow herself to be conned, at a stupid dinner party, into believing that all those years were worthless. And fans wondered  whether Chase and his writers had forgotten what it was they had loved about the show in the first place.

So after the initial heart palpitations have slowed, the surprise ending does not seem quite so surprising. The episode that led up to it, that alleged final episode ever, was workaday “Sopranos.” Or as workaday as it could be with Bobby dead, Sil almost dead, and the Feds apparently working a turncoat. and Rapt viewers analyzed every detail, from the look on Paulie’s (Tony Sirico) face after Tony asked him to take over Carlo’s operation, to the songs on the jukebox in the final scene.

Chase wrote the episode alone, and he was clearly enjoying himself, playing on the fact that people had their own expectations — odds were Tony would get whacked — and would bring to these details what they wanted to bring. He even managed to insert a little lecture about the downtrodden scriptwriter through an old “Twilight Zone” episode playing in the background of one scene.

Much of the narrative dealt with the state of that interminable whiner A.J. (Robert Iler). As he prepared to commit statutory rape (his girlfriend is a junior in high school), his car caught fire and he experienced, he told his therapist, the thrill of destruction. Tony, of course, was furious because he had already told A.J. the danger of parking the SUV in leaves — “you could grill a steak on that convertor.” The things that haunted Tony for the last eight episodes were suddenly nonexistent. Christopher’s death had improved his gambling luck (though he had picked up a stray cat that did nothing but stare at Chris’ picture). He even came to some sort of terms with Uncle Junior (Dominic Chianese), a man bitter even without his memories. “The two of you ran north Jersey,” Tony told Junior. “Did we? That’s nice,” Junior answered before gazing blankly out the window.

With the exception of that scene, and the fact that Tony’s operatives were finally able to locate and whack Phil Leotardo (Frank Vincent), it was as if none of these people realized this was the final episode of “The Sopranos.” (Except the cat. The cat seems to realize.) In one scene, as Tony managed to turn a conversation with A.J.’s therapist into a conversation about him — “My mother was a very difficult woman. I didn’t have a very happy family life” — the look on Carmela’s (Edie Falco) face was priceless. And for a moment it was as if Tony’s years in therapy, his entire character arc, the entire show for that matter, had never happened. People were trying to kill him, his son had just attempted suicide and was now joining the Army, and again it was all about him and his mother. All that hard work for nothing.

Which may be exactly what many people were feeling as Journey sang “Don’t Stop Believin’.” while the Sopranos sat in a diner, and it was then that the television went dead.

Chase is possibly the only man in America who could get away with such a thing, and maybe he shouldn’t. While it is one thing to flout the conventions of television, it’s another to flip dramatic tradition, not to mention your audience, the bird. No, he didn’t owe us any neat endings, nor some sort of final word on the nature of good and evil. But after eight years, he did owe us catharsis, some sort of emotional experience that would, if not sum up the entire eight years, leave us with something more meaningful than instant panic and lingering irritation. In the end, the art of writing is the art of making choices. Ending a series with the social weight of “The Sopranos” is not an enviable task, but end it must, and not with the sophomoric gesture of a blank screen.

Yes, people will be talking about the show tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow, but they probably won’t be talking about Tony Soprano or any of the work the very fine cast of actors and writers has done over the years. They’ll be talking about how frustrating the blank screen was. In fear of tainting the legacy of “The Sopranos” — if Tony really was just one more truly bad man, some viewers would feel betrayed; if he went from antihero to hero, others would feel the same — Chase has offered us instead an epic novel with a do-it-yourself ending.

And, of course, the distinct possibility of "The Sopranos: The Movie."

-- Mary McNamara

Update from Mary:

The blank screen.

In less than 24 hours, it has become the obelisk from “2001,” the Rorschach blot, Stonehenge and “Ulysses” all rolled into one. The sudden blank screen that marked the final moments of the final episode of “The Sopranos” is the new dark mirror in which viewers see the reflections of their own dreams and desires. In hundreds of responses, to my personal mailbox and in the comment area here, readers have deconstructed that image with the passion and alacrity of literary theory post-grads on an espresso bender.

The blank screen signified Tony’s death (exactly as he described it to Bobby on their fateful fishing trip), it was David Chase literally “pulling the plug” on his creation. It represented the paranoia in which Tony lived his life, Uncle Junior’s descent into Alzheimer’s, the repressed panic of the female characters. The sudden darkness symbolized the demise of the Italian community, the corruption of the American soul, of American television or (my personal favorite) Chase’s commentary on the country’s dependence on cable TV.

The theories are bountiful and boundless and reveal a level of sophistication that, while not surprising among fans of such a multi-layered and literate show, seems to contradict the conventional wisdom that television kills creative thought, if not actual brain cells, among viewers.

Nobody would call these “Sopranos” fans couch potatoes.

Obsessive, perhaps—here’s to the one reader who looked up the entire “Twilight Zone” episode and the other who matched the songs Tony passed over on the jukebox to the stages of his life—but then isn’t obsession one requirement of intelligent analysis?

But there is an overall awareness of how television, and the writing process, works, of what the show stood for, both philosophically and within the entertainment industry.

It all goes to prove one point: that it didn’t really matter how Chase chose to end his legendary series. Whacked or not, arrested or not, somehow suddenly heroic or not, some people would have loved it, some people would have hated it. In today’s world, it turns out, one does not go out with either a bang or a whimper, but with a thousand e-mails.

-- M.M.

(Photo courtesy HBO)

Comments

[writer]

Pure genius. David Chase gave us something utterly unexpected, yet utterly satisfying. Any of the obvious expected ends would have been anticlimactic an hour later. Instead, that exquisite dread we felt at the end will live on with us forever. Most of the loose ends are tied up (some just emotionally) and Tony has returned to that which matters most to him: his family. Together at last in their happiest we've seen then. Is this their final moment? There are clues in the episode, overt and incredibly subtle, to suggest it may be. But who knows? It doesn't matter. That final family moment in all its normal simplicity is with us forever, now. As Tony and AJ said: focus on the good times.

Anyone who dismisses that ending as a "cop out" probably didn't pay attention or hasn't watched for the past 8 years and doesn't really know this show.

[Lindsey]

I really appreciated your assessment of the last episode being like an epic novel with a do it yourself ending: There *were* great things about the episode - the cat, Phil's head, the last scene with Junior - and honestly, I didn't need a bloodbath or witness protection or Adriana to come back from the dead or anything, but I did want to feel like I got a chance to say goodbye. That final cut was both malicious and insecure on Chase's part - he could have let Meadow join them, releasing the tension that was so effectively built throughout the scene and then left us with a long shot of the family that would have given us that chance to say goodbye, but it was like he didn't feel he could pull it off and instead chose a cheap stunt that made his fans feel like idiots.

Once I accepted that that was really the end (that surfer show had long since started before I could bring myself to believe it) I was left feeling like the Sopranos was like nothing so much as Great Expectations. Both were created by writers who redefined their genre but who exhausted themselves before the end and relied on a gimmicky technical device to close their stories rather than making the more difficult authentic choice.

[Glad Its Over]

Lame ending to one of the most overrated television shows ever.

[Kim]

The blank screen was brilliant. The audience took the hit, not Tony. In the boat, Bobby said something like "When you get hit, everything just goes dark." We've been in their world for several years, but now everything goes dark for us. Cleverly done, in my opinion.

[phil]

Attention, Sopranos Viewers...
You should've watched the Tony Awards, instead. Nothing happened there either, but at least it was well-choreographed.

[Koudsi]

The ending was tyght. Tony, on top ,wih his enemies six feet under.TIme for the Sopranos to move on to the Big Picture.

[Dee]

Chase managed to shank all of his loyal viewers with this ending. I'm still ticked off. I'll have to go into therapy for this......LOL.

[Adam]

I find it humorous that she had to mention 'statutory rape' element of the episode...geez.

[Uprise]

Chase did what he tends to do, defy convention. Like many, I didn't wanna see Tony get whacked, so it makes complete sense for Chase to get our pulses running as Meadow does a piss-poor job of parking her car and we get shots of suspicious characters all around the Soprano family (there's no way that shmuck heading to the bathroom was going to to the head to grab a piece from a toilet and come out guns blazing ala Michael Corleone; he could've smoked the whole family from where he was sitting at the counter) as they routinely order dinner.

I didn't like Dr. Melfi's all-too-easy decision to drop Tony as a patient either. Just doesn't add up based on what we know of her. After AJ's attempted suicide, his subsequent nihilistic streak and desire to go to Afghanistan, it just doesn't make sense that a development executive gig would so easily placate him. What're ya gonna do though? These are small complaints when considering the show as a whole.

It's fair to want and even demand catharsis at the end of a show the caliber of "The Sopranos." I sure as hell wanted it. After eight years of Tony's therapy, etc., the final episode took a weird turn when Tony started going on about his mom during the discussion with A.J.'s therapist (Carmela did make a priceless face) but it didn't make me think that the past 85 episodes never happened; I thought this scene clearly showed his inability to take responsibility for many of his questionable choices after eight years with Dr. Melfi. To me, Chase was telling us that regardless of Tony's desires to progress beyond what he is, he is and will always be a family man, a gangster and a sociopath.

We're not talking about M*A*S*H here, so I never expected the kind of catharsis from "The Sopranos" series finale that, for example, a series about surgeons saving lives in a warzone could provide. Though the series finale didn't provide an emotional experience to sum up the entire eight years, it reminded me that no matter what, Tony will forever be looking over his shoulder. For a show like this one, that's enough closure for me.

[mike williams]

Stop trying to analyze this into something good...The bottom line is that the endind totally sucked and David Chase made a moron out of everyone..don't try and put a good face on it..It simply stunk.

[Dan Currie, Boston, MA]

Remember the scene in the Sopranos finale last night when the Twilight
Zone theme was playing in the background and you could hear that show's creator, the great Rod Serling, starting to introduce an episode? I
thought I heard Serling say "Mr. Julius Moore." But he must have said
Moomer because look what I found:

"Former streetcar conductor Julius Moomer (Jack Weston) aspires to be a highly paid TV writer, but he is handicapped by a severe talent
deficiency. Julius' fortunes take a sudden upswing when, practicing a
bit of black magic in his tiny apartment, he conjures up the ghost of
William Shakespeare (John Williams). Unfortunately, not even
Shakespeare's brilliance is any match for the formidability of
bullheaded TV sponsors and network censors. A young Burt Reynolds
steals the show as Brandoesque actor Rocky Rhodes, while star Jack
Weston's wife Marge Redmond appears in a supporting role. Written by
Rod Serling, "The Bard" was the last of the hour-long Twilight Zone
episodes to be telecast; it first aired May 23, 1963." ~ Hal Erickson,
All Movie Guide ... How perfect is that?

-Dan Currie, Boston, MA (dcurrieus@yahoo.com)

[L R]

I want to see one of the alternate endings please. This one was garbage. Perfect ending my

[Abe Lucas]

The Sopranos was a celebration of the vulgar, the violent and the depraved. It appealed to the worst in our society, elements which have become staples of American entertainment. A lousy ending to a lousy series. It never should have been put on the air. As American television goes, this series was just another gilded cow pie.

[William Stosine]

If David Chase had made The Wizard Of Oz Dorothy and gang would still be wandering around the Emerald City. If he'd made King Kong he'd have faded the story to black while Kong took a break from terrorizing the city. If he'd made The Searchers John Wayne would still be searching. Ugh.

[Robert Stein]

Chase, aside from telling us The Sopranos aspires to art not gangster melodrama, may have been dropping metaphors like Uncle Junior's Alzheimer's to remind us that everything ends and is eventually forgotten. That may be his way of making The Sopranos memorable against the odds:

http://ajliebling.blogspot.com/2007/06/arrivederci-sopranos.html

[Warren]

It left us nervous, agitated, wondering whats next...Just like Tony. Plus with lots of room for the movie.

[James]

The show ended three years ago. However, last night's ending left open the opportunity to continue to make money from the Soprano "business" with a movie.

It was like reading a book with the final page missing. Leaving the audience to draw its own conclusions was cowardly and CLICK.

[Ed]

David Chase is brilliant. What everyone is forgetting is what the character Tony flashed back tosaying to Bobby Bacchala while sitting in the boat during the episode "Soprano Home Movies" right before Bobby was killed ..."you never hear it coming..." does this mean that Tony was really killed at the end of the episode by one of the "assassins?

[Bill]

Now THAT was a finale!

For those who wanted closure, an unmitigated finger from David FREAKING Chase. It was simply incredible.

With fifteen minutes left, I thought... OK, so this is it: Life goes on. Meadow readying for her legal career, AJ on the couch laughing, Carmela looking at a new spec house, Tony checking on Sil (and raking leaves, looking at the sky, waiting for Episode One's ducks to return). And then Tony went to the diner.

The last ten minutes of the show and series were pure unadulterated suspense. Every moment ratcheted up the anxiety, beginning with Tony picking out the perfect song to end OUR life together: "Turn, Turn, Turn"... "Who You Gonna Run To"... "I Got to Be Me"... "A Lonely Place" ... all fitting reminders of Tony and his situation over the last six years. Then he picks, by a band named JOURNEY (and what has this series been but a journey for US, as we came to welcome into our lives a sociopath, a killer, a philanderer, and made him part of OUR family, as we got to know his two families), a song called "Don't Stop Believing." And what else is there for Tony but the belief that he'll survive. There IS nothing else.

And yet we as an audience are waiting for his death, watching ever person in the diner and who arrives as a potential assassin: the grey haired man in the back booth (a ringer for the late, not-so-great Phil), the truck driver solo in a booth, the guy who comes in and sits at the bar (and then goes into the bathroom, like Michael Corleone -- to pick up a gun? -- in "The Godfather"), and then the two African-Americans who come into the diner late. All of these, I was sure when I saw them, would be the final shooter in the series.

Carm comes in, and Tony tells her the news that he'll probably be indicted, and the song's next line? "And it goes, on and on and on and on"... so this is the way life will really go on for the Sopranos, endless waiting for the inevitable. AJ comes in and we're expecting the hit at any moment. (When the three of them each eat the fried onion rings... maybe this is the slow death from cholesterol and high blood pressure!) And when Meadow takes multiple attempts to parallel-park the car, we're left thinking, "Good, maybe she'll be too late, maybe she'll be spared." And when she does arrive, and Tony looks up.

Nothing. Blackness. Silence. For the first and last time in the series, we're left with silence over the credits. Perfect!

You want closure? Fuggetaboutit. You wanna know (vicariously... as we have for the last six seasons) what was life as Tony Soprano is like? You got it, baby. Unrelenting suspense, waiting for the indictment to come, or the bullet to hit. And like Tony, we are left with this gut-wrenching feeling FOREVER, because this is the final episode. We thought that we sympathized (maybe) with Tony before? Now we know what it feels to be him... and it's not pleasant (my gut is still tied in knots).

Wow... what a perfect ending for the show.

[Melissa]

I thought it was a big eff you to us fans. After all the millions of dollars we helped him make off this show, after all the endless waiting between seasons for him to get the damn thing back on the air, after watching him whack beloved characters (Ade, Big Pussy, Christafah...), David Chase just gave us the middle finger with that series finale. Yeah, it's just a TV show. One that I loved. I wanted an ending -- maybe one that I hated, maybe one that I loved, but SOMETHING. He copped out. He stopped The Sopranos. He didn't end it. And if he was laughing as he wrote it and as he imagined fans' reactions, then eff him, too.