Friday, July 06, 2007

The End of the Family: I have a long history of commenting HBO series, so now that the dust has settled on The Sopranos I suppose we can recap the big theories about the ending. (I am assuming you saw it.)

Theory number one is that Tony is dead. As Bobby Baccala said in the first episode this year, "They say when it happens, you don't even hear it coming." That would be the meaning of the instant black. That is what Tony experienced, one second he is having a completely innocuous dinner with his family, the next he has ceased to exist. This theory is bolstered by the tension over the shady characters in Holsten's and the fact that there would be a nice symmetry considering he just had Phil Leotardo killed in front of his family.

The problem I have with it is that it is too easy. Is the ultimate lesson of The Sopranos "When you least expect it expect it" or "If you're going to be a gangster, you're likely to get shot"? I don't think so.

Theory number two is that the whole sequence is meant to show that although Tony goes on as before he is always going to live in fear. Fear for himself and fear for his family. The tension is the last scene is unresolved. It just hovers there. For all Tony has done, his punishment is to never know when it's coming, to never have peace. Folks also point out that this leaves the door open for a future movie or reprise of the series.

This is the weakest theory as far as I'm concerned. I provides no meaningful reason for the instant black ending and again, it just doesn't jibe with the timeless themes that David Chase has really tried to emphasize.

The theory I subscribe to is that it doesn't matter, see? Tony got whacked/Tony went on as before -- it doesn't matter. That's not what The Sopranos was about. Ever.

David Chase has said time and time again that The Sopranos is about family. Now you add that to the recurring theme of the show -- criminal level self-delusion -- and you have your answer. It doesn't matter.

The ultimate scene of the entire series actually happened the week before in Dr. Mefli's office. She finally realizes what an abyss Tony is; that she has made no progress; that she has been used in the service of Tony's dysfunction. She kicks Tony out, acknowledging her failure, and he turns to her declaring, without a hint of irony, that what she is doing is "immoral." (Note how he instinctively starts the charade again with A.J.'s therapist.)

Tony is hopeless. Whether it was referring to himself as a "soldier" or a "captain of industry" he could always build a fortress of justification around himself. But what about the family? Carmella, whose conscience once tortured her and sent her to therapy and to her priest desperate for redemption doesn't even think about it anymore; she just focuses on her real estate career. A.J., who for a brief moment seemed to gather up the courage to act in some way, is bought off with a BMW and two-bit job in the film business. He was never much for self-reflection anyway. Meadow is headed for a career civil rights law, convinced that the horrendous criminality all around her is really just a figment in the collective imagination of a prejudiced society. In fact, the final sequence where she is struggling to park her car but eventually fits into place is, I believe, the final symbol of that.

Their apparent happiness is just more self-delusion. Tony's criminality, and the need to live with it every day without being destroyed by guilt, has claimed its ultimate victims, the ones he most wanted to save. Whoever came through Holsten's door didn't matter. As Carmella from Season One might have said, they are all going to Hell. The moment of potential salvation is gone. One minute everything is fine, but once the moment for salvation is past, it's all over. Instant black.

Three more things:

First, this marks the end of the mob as an American movie paradigm. How can it not? Even if you're another Scorsese or Coppola, there is no way you top The Sopranos with a two hour film, even if you add in four hours of sequels. The genre is done. Everything that could have been said has been said. (With the exception of the inevitable "courageous" film about two gay wiseguys.)

Second, Gandolfini has pulled off what is almost certainly the greatest extended acting tour de force in history. Not an episode went by where I was not amazed by the pitch perfect emotions and manners and delivery. Even in the episodes when the script was weak, Gandolfini sold me. Just flawless. His performance should be watched closely by every student of acting from now on.

Third, I have never seen such an intelligent and popular debate over a work of art in my lifetime. I have seen intelligent debates, always within niche populations. I have seen popular debates: Who shot J.R.? But I have never seen a debate that was both until now. This is Chase's lasting legacy.

[Update: After writing everything above, I was pointed to a long and extremely detailed analysis of the last episode, which makes an extended case that Tony is dead. It invokes the symbolism of the Last Supper, oranges, and Members Only jackets. It makes a very compelling argument which, if true, would make me think less of the ending. I'll stick with my explanation for now, although it is nice to see that someone was more obsessed than I was.]