Thank You David Chase

The last time we physically saw Tony Soprano he was breathing. But the debate among the fans seems to be whether by the time the credits rolled that was still the case. All that I know is that my favorite show is done (for the time being) and I loved every minute of it.

For those of you who didn't see the finale, the last few shots are of several suspicious looking fellows entering a restaurant while Tony, Carmela, and AJ are enjoying a basket of onion rings. One of them gets up to go to the bathroom, another reads the paper, and the last two are at a jukebox. Meadow is outside trying to parallel park and getting rather flustered with how poorly it is going. She is just coming into the restaurant when the screen goes completely to black for a few seconds and then the credits roll.

Now, I really don't want to sit here and bore non-fans with minutiae because there are more universal themes I want to touch on. But based upon certain foreshadowings, occurrences in the last scene, plotlines, and just the overall tone of the show, what the blackness represents is most certainly arguable. And to me that demonstrates why this show was beautiful, intelligent, and a masterpiece.

I would like to think by the end David Chase realized what he had created. It was a family made up by everyone who stayed up all hours of the night watching the box sets, who had friends over Sunday to eat and view, who talked about what was going to happen and what it all meant. But
perhaps most importantly it was made up by all of us who invested ourselves into these characters as if they were our actual loved ones.

And if Chase came to that understanding, maybe he also knew that we were all entitled to write our own ending. Maybe that guy walks out of the bathroom and pops Tony in the temple. Or maybe, like so much of the show, it is smoke-and-mirrors, made to get us thinking about the possibilities which never materialize, and Tony keeps going on and on, like the Journey song playing in the background says. Other than Chase, who really knows? And isn't that really beautiful in its own right?

There are moments in life when imagining what may come beats the resolution. And in fact, can't what actually happens seem somehow less meaningful because any mystery there was is now taken away? I hope maybe this was going through Chase's mind as he penned the final scenes. And that he knew better than to give a definitive ending to a show which was never really about that.

To me the show was art. And like great pieces, some action was visible and obvious. But the real awe-inspiring aspects lay hidden within, waiting to be found. Like a painting, it gave the viewer possibilities, but was unconcerned with always providing answers. For it knew that people had a right to their own dreams and hopes. It knew that it was a starting point to immerse oneself in. And that while truth was reflected in it, it provided a way for people to think about something else besides their shitty lives.

I'll miss it deeply.