At first I was at a bit of a loss when the screen went blank, but I'd pretty much gotten used to the idea that nothing major was going to happen at about the halfway mark. Chase wouldn't throw in an earthshaking event like Tony getting whacked without showing the aftermath; that would be letting us off way too easily. When Tony didn't die at the very beginning of the episode, I figured he was safe, at least for that hour.

So I wasn't terribly disappointed. And after some rumination, I think I really like this ending. I loved the rising tension. I loved that the family of sociopaths and enablers is sharing a diner with groups including a boyscout troop (I laughed when I saw them!). Good and evil really do dine together.

Whether or not Tony died at the fade to black (which is an interesting interpretation that I quite like but don't really feel I need to decide on for myself one way or the other), the point, I think, was for us to be left in that uncomfortable, ambiguous, tense place where the comforts of family life mingle with unexpressed fears and justifiable paranoias. It's a pretty good metaphor for the state of our country right now. I think the inclusion of the suspected terrorist threat and A.J.'s unsophisticated and self-serving obsession with the issue indicates that this metaphor may be intentional. And I see in myself parallels to A.J.'s moral semi-quandaries over the issue. After all, for all my ideals, here I am sitting around, metaphorically eating onion rings, colluding with a culture of killing, waiting for the hammer to fall.

This ending gave me so much more to chew on than the Six Feet Under finale. The writers of Six Feet Under seemed to think they needed to show us some semi-meaningful conclusion and closure for every single major character. We had to find out if Claire wound up with that lawyer guy. We had to see how every single one of them died. What a boring take on death, all wrapped up and presented to us as the omniscient viewers who get to hang around for the final word. But in life we don't get to do that. We don't get to hang around to see what happens next; ultimately, at some point, we're all going to experience that fade (or in this case jolt) into black. And until then we will live with never knowing when and how it will happen, trying as best we can to move through life accepting our inevitable moral compromises and averting our thoughts from the creeping sense that death awaits us.

That by inserting A.J. into the crap-film industry, Tony wasn't just trying to save him from the military. He was trying to bring back Chrissy.

Okay, I like a good mystery, so I thought I'd follow one of the leads posted here (and before you go all "get a life" on me, this took roughly ten minutes worth of re-watching the final scene and credits and doing a few imdb and google searches). The "members only" guy in the diner is played by some regular fella named Paolo Colandrea, a dude who owns a pizza place in PA. He did not, as has been rumored, appear in an earlier episode as Phil Leotardo's nephew. He did not, as far as I can tell, appear in any other episode of the series at all. He is identified in the credits only as the man in the member's only jacket.

http://www.phillyburbs.com/pb-dyn/news/111-06092007-1360360.html

However, there's still some intrigue to be squeezed out of this. The first episode of the season (I mean way back, the first half of this season) is called "Member's Only." Also, the actor has dropped a few minor hints. See this article:

http://www.wtopnews.com/index.php?nid=114&sid=1164709

The actor may just be playing himself up here, but he does say that his character is important and that there is in fact an answer about whether or not Tony was killed in the diner. Take that as you will.

My partner and I watched the last minute of the final scene frame by frame, however, and there wasn't a single shadow changing on the table nor an ominous reflection in the metal mini-jukebox to indicate the approach of a gunman. My partner is an armchair detective. :)

I still love the ending no matter whether there is an answer or not. I just felt like looking in to this puzzle, if only for the sake of contributing to the urban legend bonanza that will undoubtedly develop due to this scene.

One of the things about family dysfunction is that it tends to suck you in and stick you right in the thick of things. It's that Swamp of Sorrows that ate Artax in The Neverending Story. It is it's own neverending story.

This LW is so pulled into the situation, she has written a minor novella about it here. It sounds like it's eating her up. In addition to the good advise Mr. Tennis and my fellow posters have given about practical matters, I would suggest avoiding that swamp whenever possible. Which means, for instance, not regaling friends and workmates with tales of the Evil Stepmother (I mean, Aunt). Venting, but abstractly, and to people who understand already and don't need to hear the story told all over again.

When stories get repeated, they start to get viscous and hard to navigate. When the family business finally coagulates into myth and the people involved become mired in characterization, it is terribly difficult to forge ahead.