Another one bites the dust.
In the past couple of my years, two of my all-time favourite tv shows - The West Wing and Six Feet Under - have come to their natural conclusions.
Now, sadly, The Sopranos joins them in the great television afterlife. Assuming there is one.
Much has been written, said and dissed about the the show's ultimate scene. Tony and his small-f family are sitting in a diner. As daughter Meadow arrives, a man walks past the family's table and heads into the, er, head. After a tension-filled last few moments, wherein Tony suspiciously eyes every character in the joint - any one of whom could be there to dispatch him - and just as the Journey's lead singer Steve Perry reaches the screechy high notes of the band's "Don't Stop" - the scene simply cuts to black.
No tidy resolution. No suggestion of what - if anything - comes afterwards. There one minute, gone the next. The ephemeral essence of television.
Much of the post-finale debate has centred on whether the ending is a call-back to an episode earlier in Season 6B in which Tony's brother-in-law Bobby Baccala tells him (paraphrasing), "When it's a real wise guy, you don't see it coming. Everything just goes black." The suggestion being, Tony's dead, and in all likelihood, so's his kin.
On the other hand, maybe it was a "life-goes-on" ending, suggesting that Tony will live the rest of his life knowing that it could come at any time, at the hands of anyone who crosses his path.
My own theory is that it was nothing more than a last attempt by series creator David Chase to fuck with the heads of us, the viewers.
Regardless, it was 86 hours of the finest television ever created.
That the Sopranos and SFU were both creations of HBO, a premium cable channel as opposed to a mainstream provider of network television, is telling. With rare exceptions, network television has for years - some would argue forever - pandered to the lowest common denominator in public taste. For every West Wing, the nets have given us Married With Children and Saved By The Bell.
There have been ground-breaking successes on mainstream tv. All In The Family - which today reads like a Broadway production of working-class American values - set the tone for a generation. While some found it difficult to watch, that is what made it work. One must test the boundaries to find the limits.
But the success of these two HBO productions - among critics and viewers - proves that people want more. And that they're willing to pay for it.
As viewers, we are more than prepared to do whatever it takes to bring these gems into our lives. We will embrace them, and we will enjoy them.
Like the Bunkers before them, the Sopranos and the Fishers have established a new high-water mark in television entertainment. They have proven that viewers do indeed have brains, and taste, and judgment. They (we) do not need to have brainless pap spoon fed to them (us) and passed off as "quality." We know it when we see it. We just don't see it often enough.
Afterthought (in honour of father's day): Much ink has been spilled, and many pixels posted, questioning whether Tony Soprano was a good father. Like most sociopaths, his own self-perception was horrendously - and laughably - off-base. One of the first duties of any parent is the safety of his children. By definition, a father whose life and career path routinely exposes his children to mortal danger cannot be deemed to be "good" by any sane definition of the word.
One more time: And if you think I'm obsessed? Check this out.
