This TV Geek Army Roundtable features a discussion of television series finales. Check out the previous parts here.
RevViews' great take on The Sopranos' finale and the nature of TV series finales that don't deliver full closure (to say the least) gives me the perfect opening to talk about my current thinking on what is probably the greatest show in the history of television (that said, talk to me at the end of Mad Men's run for a potential revisit!).
I went on something of a Sopranos binge of late, which of course meant I had to ride that train (the Blue Comet, of course) all the way home to those final excruciating moments where Meadow seems to take a 300-point turn to parallel park her car, and Tony conscientiously orders onion rings for the table while waiting for the family to arrive for a last supper… or at least the last that we the audience will ever see of our beloved anti-hero and company.
But let's take a little bit of a step back. As my man Rev alluded to, there are a number of signs that point to Tony getting popped at Holsten's that are laid out throughout the series, I'd wager, and particularly throughout parts one and two of Season Six. Going through The Sopranos at rapid pace this time around, I was struck by a few things.
First of all, Tony (James Gandolfini) takes great pains – both consciously and otherwise – to alienate himself from many of the closest people to him in his life. He's absusive to his consiglieri Sil (Steve Van Zandt) and close friends Hesh (Jerry Adler) and Paulie (Tony Sirico) for good measure, burns bridges with New York, goads his brother-in-law Bobby (Steve Schirripa) into cold cocking him over a drunken game of Monopoly, and so on.
And then we get to the bodies. By the series finale, a huge number of Tony's closest associates, friends, and protectors – or at least the ones that we've been introduced to throughout the series – are either gone, dead, or incapacitated. Pussy, Ralphie, Furio, Sil, Bobby, Christopher, Uncle Junior, and Vito just for starters. I couldn't help getting the impression that Tony is more exposed than he's ever been, so much so that it seems insane that he'd waltz into Holsten's alone and possibly unarmed.
But isn't that the point? The final scene represents a typical day in the life of Tony Soprano. But again, let's step back again for a quick moment.
Now let's look at the supremely "bad luck" that many others just outside Tony's orbit sees over the course of the series set against the relatively "good luck" that Tony and his immediate family sees right up until the end of the run. Johnny Sack (Vincent Curatola) gets nabbed by the feds on RICO charges after we've seen notorious and frequent flubs by the government in snagging Tony and those closest to him (Adrianna not withstanding). And the New Jersey crew somehow manages to hold off the New York family under Phil Leotardo's (Frank Vincent) leadership and its reputed "200 soldiers." Phil, a boss of a renowned New York family, gets sold out by his underlings in the name of peace of getting back to business.
So, again, we have Tony at Holsten's with his onion rings and his look of the everyman father and husband waiting for his family and a nice cheapo dinner at a favorite greasy spoon.
The more I watch the series and think about it, the more I'm convinced that David Chase is daring us to believe that Tony doesn't get popped at Holsten's just after DON'T STOP and cut to black, probably by the dude in the Member's Only jacket. He seems the most likely guy in the restaurant to do the deed and very purposefully sits at the counter and then walks into the restroom just as the family is about to see Meadow (Jamie-Lynn Sigler) walking in the front door.
But here's what's perhaps even more significant to me at this point in time. It doesn't matter if Tony gets clipped that night. Not in the slightest. The point that David Chase and the writers are making is that Tony's ticket will absolutely get punched, one way or the other. Someone will knock him out of the skip's chair – either by his own crew or New York or somewhere else – or he will get nailed by the feds (remember that we find out right near the end that Carlo, played by Arthur J. Nascarella, has flipped and will testify, very easy to dismiss with so much going on at that point). His luck must end at some point, and we're just not privy to exactly how and when it happens.
When I first saw the finale, I thought it was a clean finish to the series in the sense that the audience could decide what happened after the curtain closed. But no longer. I take the personal choice to believe Tony gets his right at the cut to black, dovetailing perfectly with Bobby's infamous line about "you probably never even see it coming." But more than anything, the intention of The Sopranos' creator and team has never been more clear to me, and I have all the more respect for the series as a whole in addition to the still highly controversial finale.
