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Sopranos Final Season

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from: Brian Williams
to: Jeffrey Goldberg, Timothy Noah, and Terry Winter

Week 8: The Longest Week of Our Lives

Posted Tuesday, June 5, 2007, at 12:32 PM ET

Timothy Noah chatted with readers about The Sopranos on June 7. Read the transcript here.

Gentlemen,

That muzzle came awfully close to Tony's face. The Escalade barely squeezed between the houses on the nondescript street. Exit Tony, reduced to carrying a gun loosely concealed by a Hefty bag. Entry-level stuff—our hero is holed up in a safe house. And that was the point. Minutes earlier, we'd seen him in a Zegna camel-hair blazer, ripping out a rib-eye recipe from Departures magazine—A Man in Full, well turned out ... even though his visit to Dr. Melfi's office didn't turn out well. Later, he's in dark leather, entering a darkened house via the back porch, beneath that familiar corrugated aluminum roof. My sister had the same roof over her porch in Jersey, and during a rainstorm it sounded like the drum line in a high-school band. The whole tableau was one of those regular reminders that our guy is a murderer. He's a mobster, a wise guy, a sociopath—and this is how those guys live when the life they've chosen forces them underground. With the pizza order under way downstairs, Tony spreads his girth onto a bare mattress. He unwraps his companion for the evening and places it across his chest. As Tony drifts off to sleep, David Chase finishes us off with a beautiful, spare, and haunting piece of music: "Running Wild" by Tendersticks—piano with a slight Motown finish, completing the mood and setting up the longest week of our lives.

Just so we don't forget that this thing of ours—the love we have for this series—is all about the acting: Look at Carm's face when Tony is making it clear to her that his crew has been decimated, and they have to leave home and scatter to the winds. Edie Falco must present a dozen conflicting emotions and struggles, all in the space of 30 seconds or less, and all of it in the lovely confines of her powerfully expressive face. Her husband, standing before her, means business. She doesn't need a deeper explanation, nor is there time to mourn Bobby or fear for Sil's well-being. She does what we would all do as parents: She runs through a quick mental inventory of where her charges are. Meadow is shacking up with her boyfriend. A troubling thought at any other time. A.J.? That's another matter. She fears he might not leave his room. Then Tony vows that the despondent scion will indeed leave the house—if he has to, "on a piece of plywood," the last word barely makes it out through clenched teeth. His visit to A.J.'s room proves the era of good feelings, such as it was, is over. A.J. psychobabbles about setbacks and despair and sadness. Then he starts to weep, and his Dad throws his son in the closet.

Back in Melfi's office, when Tony was lamenting the fact that he'll never get to say "Dr. Soprano ... " who among us didn't finish his sentence with a silent, "Gov. Corleone, Sen. Corleone ... "?

Random notes: Who caught the continuity error outside Satriale's? While Tony was getting word from his friend the Fed that Phil was rumored to be coming after him, the white SUV parked at the curb behind Tony simply disappeared between shots. Then there was the great headline in the Daily News: DBL UKE SLAY. Stuntwoman Samantha MacIvor is due a special tip of the hat: That was a great tumble down the stairs after being shot. Janice's parenting skills ("Good little girls don't cry, babies cry!") were exceeded only by the beautifully acted and stark scene in the living room of the family home, when her "Oh my God. ... Oh my GOD ... " seemed to so genuinely express the shock of her husband's death.

And a word about Bobby. Our reluctant, lovable, cuddly capo was sentimental and wistful and romantic until the very end. Before meeting his maker on a board of train tracks, he dreamed aloud about what it must have been like onboard the Blue Comet ... and how such a chariot might have carried a "better class of people" to Atlantic City. He confirmed the hurt that we knew was there: His son never embraced Dad's love of the iron horse. As soon as the cell-phone rang in his car, we knew.

Of course we're also thinking of Sil. Information from the hospital is hard to come by. His wounds certainly looked bad. It was a critical scene in terms of the way it painted the opposing forces. Those were gunmen in the other car—trained assassins. A black Town Car with two pros inside who meant business (OK, so a kill rate of 50 percent isn't great) because the hot-headed Phil has vowed to present well. Our guys looked old, bumbling, and out of practice. Rooting around in the car for a weapon, caught like rats in a parking lot, and Sil didn't stand a chance. There's a war on, and our guys hadn't completed basic training. It's exactly what Phil resents about the guys from North Jersey.

It's a foot race to the end, gentlemen. He who is willing to "go to ground" and stay there the longest—he who makes the fewest mistakes—will see another day. As I've said from the beginning: Chase is as apt to end this with ambiguity as he is with victory or certainty. The longest week of our lives ticks slowly toward the end.

Brian

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from: Brian Williams
to: Jeffrey Goldberg, Timothy Noah, and Terry Winter

Week 8: The Longest Week of Our Lives

Posted Tuesday, June 5, 2007, at 12:32 PM ET

DISCUSS

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Jeffrey Goldberg is a national correspondent for the Atlantic and the author of Prisoners: A Story of Friendship and Terror. Stephen Metcalf is Slate's critic at large. He is working on a book about the 1980s. Timothy Noah is a senior writer at Slate. Brian Williams is the anchor and managing editor of NBC Nightly News. Terence Winter is a writer and an executive producer of The Sopranos. His teleplay "Pine Barrens," written with Tim Van Patten, won the 2001 Writers Guild Award and the Edgar Award.

Slate home page cover, June 11, 2007: Still of James Gandolfini in The Sopranos by Craig Blankenhorn © HBO. All rights reserved. Still from The Sopranos of James Gandolfini on Slate's home page; still of: James Gandolfini; Edie Falco and James Gandolfini; Steven Van Zandt, James Gandolfini, and Tony Sirico; James Gandolfini and Edie Falco; and Robert Iler all by Craig Blankenhorn/courtesy HBO. All rights reserved. Entry 9: Still of Tony with a tomato, and Entry 10: Tony's dad and young Uncle June © HBO. Entry 21: Still of Tony Sirico as Paulie "Walnuts" by Craig Blankenhorn. Entry 27: Still of Robert Iler and James Gandolfini by Craig Blankenhorn. Entry 30: Still of James Gandolfini and Sarah Shahi by Craig Blankenhorn. Entry 38: Still of Steven Van Zandt and James Gandolfini by Craig Blankenhorn. Entry 40: Still of James Gandolfini and Edie Falco by Craig Blankenhorn. Entry 45: Still of James Gandolfini and Steven Van Zandt by Craig Blankenhorn. Entry 48: Still of Dominic Chianese and James Gandolfini by Craig Blankenhorn.

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Remarks from the Fray Editor:

As a basic cable slum-dweller, the Fray Editor has been following the discussion of The Sopranos with admiration and envy. The passion, erudition, and insight of the show's fans—Slate's commentators and Fraysters alike—proves the case that this series is not to be missed. Below, Fray poster lucabrasi considers how the 6.5 season story arc has led the show inevitably to the present moment.

May this weekend's finale exceed your wildest expectations. My prediction? Paulie Walnuts in the Bing with a shoe buffer.—G.A.

Remarks from the Fray:

I must salute the excellent close of the mob wars arc that started way back in Season One.

Looking back from today, with Tony's Jersey crime family indeed looking like a "glorified crew" in the eyes of New York, one can see it, almost clearly:

Season One: Tony's issues were of ascension in that smallish Jersey family. Jackie Sr. was dying; Uncle Junior was the designated "front don," and yet bitter enough about Tony's power to use Livia's ambiguous directives to hit Tony. Didn't work. Junior was exiled and took on Federal heat; Tony had the others killed.

Season Two: Richie Aprile gets out of prison. A theme begins: guys out of prison resent Tony, who never served. But Richie, too, is "local Jersey trouble." His escalating conflict with Tony is going to be dealt with rather easily -- Tony wants Richie hit, but Janice delivers a dose of even MORE "local" justice.

Meanwhile, I think NYC underboss Johnny Sack turns up living in Jersey, but promising Tony "I don't want to wet my beak."

The main NYC Don is Carmine Sr, an old school guy. Tony can deal with Carmine Sr, but Sack starts getting that lean and hungry look...

Seasons Three and Four: Other issues are on the table (Jackie Jr., Tony and Carm's marriage), but Tony's adversaries are manageable: made guy Ralphie and the ever-more-ambitious and angry Sack. Ralphie is eliminated, quietly (if NYC ever finds out...). Sack wants Tony to hit Old Man Carmine; Tony pulls out at the last moment. Sack looks to be vengeful.

Season Five: The big trouble all starts here, with the release of the "Class of '84". It's like four Richie Apriles. Tony has a lotta plates to spin: an old-timer named Feech who wants it all, locally, Tony's cousin Tony B, the "Rockford Guy" (Joe Santos) who Tony B idolizes as a father, and a real hothead named Phil Leotardo.

Carmine Sr. croaks. Phil joins with Sack against Little Carmine, Tony B joins with the Rockford Guy and Rusty in backing Little Carmine's play. Tony elects to back off and see how Jersey can benefit from the ensuing bloodshed, of which there is a lot.

During all this, two little matters occur: Seeking owed cash, Tony subjects Phil Leotardo to a body-breaking car crash and beats up Phil at the accident site as a "throw-in." Tony B kills Phil's brother Billy Leotardo.

In retrospect, these last two actions were perhaps...unfortunate.

Sack and Phil kill more guys than Little Carmine's team. Little caves ("It's a stagmire.") Sack ascends to Donhood. Tony can deal with Sack (having killed Tony B as a burnt offering), and Sack will stave off the still vengeful Phil Leotardo.

But right at the end of Season Five, the Feds nab Sack. Go directly to jail.

Season 6A: Sack's in prison, but the putative boss, with Phil fronting him on the outside. Tony's shot for a few episodes. The "gay Vito issue" gives Phil new reason for putting the pressure on Tony's Jersey boys. With Sack losing power by the day, Phil contemplates his rages against Tony: getting beaten up by Tony, paying money to Tony, brother killed by the cousin of Tony, gay Vito protected by Tony. Phil has a heart attack to match Tony's gutshot. Things seem peaceful between these two wounded warriors. But this guy Butch turns up, taunting Tony.

Season 6B. Tony's luck with New York runs out, via a series of crap outs: Sack dies of cancer; Doc kills Gerry; Phil kills Doc.. Phil is "the big boss man," finally, and the worst possible New York Don Tony Soprano could face. Filled with jailhouse vengeance and itching to consolidate power, Phil pushes Tony too far (with the sexual insult of Coco towards Meadow, ultimately). Tony retaliates (curbing); Phil says "there's nothing left to talk about," and here we are.

Now, I' m not sure how much of that was plotted early on by Chase and Company, but looking back on it, you see how this final, fatal gang war was literally years in the making. Tony Soprano fended off Jersey threats (Junior, Richie), kept the peace with Carmine Sr, dangerously dueled with Sack (the longest of Tony's strategic encounters), sat out the gang war to replace Carmine Sr...and ended up on the wrong end of Phil's bloody ascension to the throne of the New York Family.

Where things are now is where they HAVE to be. Inevitability.

--lucabrasi

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