Rollerboyz, thanks for taking the time to list all of the song titles featured on the jukebox. I read them all when watching the show and only listed the two that were most salient to my argument, but I absolutely agree with you that they are all important and highly significant. David Chase does not ignore even the smallest detail (no lazy writing there, indeed), and there is much meaning in each of these song titles. Thanks, too, for the compliment!

Nick R., your post is right on the money, too. Your point about the complacency of contemporary American society is absolutely relevant to Chase's larger critique throughout the entire series, but most germane to our discussion, the finale, in particular. (Recall A.J.'s monologue at Bobby's funeral reception--I firmly believe that Chase was speaking directly to us through A.J. about our complicity in the creation of today's social ills.) I loved your point that Chase set the last scene of the finale (the culmination of his critique of the American dream) in a diner, which is such a uniquely American creation; I hadn't thought about that as clearly as you put it until now. It is almost as if the romanticism of the mafia, which may have peaked at or about the same time as the rise of the American diner (late 1950's/1960's), has fallen in similar ways to the same caricatured and manufactured status of the American diner; whereas once the diner was an authentic symbol of American culture, it has descended into a false, hollow shell of itself in its glory days. Several "Sopranos" characters have alluded to the same point about the mafia (recall Phil's remembrance in the penultimate episode of past mafia traditions and how Tony's crew no longer carries them out--this helped to inspire his hit on Tony). Fascinating!

And I agree with Nick R.--as usual, the commentary on this Salon thread about the finale far surpasses anything else I have read elsewhere online. Kudos to all of us for being such critical thinkers! (I'm a college political science professor, so I just couldn't resist.)

Keep those great ideas coming. I am intrigued by everyone's comments, as the different interpretations of various facets of the show offered here continue to inform my own. There is so much material in the finale to mine, we should have plenty to continue to discuss!

If the show is, as has been stated (by Chase himself?), a commentary on American society, a more metaphorical interpretation makes sense to me. A quick rundown:

The Soprano family and "family" represent the country--Tony the federal government (a dominant force, dishing out violence as he sees fit), Carmella the "silent majority," (keeping silent as long as she can have her luxuries), Meadow the media (previously interested in fighting injustices, now with a screwed-up view of the world and a hankering for cash), and AJ the psyche of the nation (whiny, pampered, only interested in the bad things happening in the world until the next shiny bauble is offered).

Sil, as consigliare, is the brains of the country (currently in a coma, replaced by nothing but irrational childish screaming--hence the oddly long shot of the girl from Little Miss Shinshine); Bobby was its heart (now dead, previously forced to compromise itself); Paulie is its survival instinct (still alive, at an uneasy truce with the federal government (Tony)); Christopher was its idealism (corrupted, destroyed by the federal government (Tony) out of "necessity").

The FBI agent seems to be a not-so-subtle stand-in for the CIA and FBI in general, who have caught "some sort of bug" in the Middle East that just won't go away--either terrorism itself or, more likely, the brutal "anti-terror" tactics adopted from Middle Eastern governments, which are eating away at the agencies' purpose and abilities.

Phil Leotardo is Saddam, a brutal leader meeting an ignominious end. But his death brings no peace for Tony and his family -- there are so many victims of the violence between Phil and Tony (the NY-NJ war--the Iraq war) and of the violence carried out by Tony and his thugs in the normal course of "doing business" that Tony is constantly on edge, constantly paranoid, always waiting and watching for the next attack.

This is the point of the final scene in the restaurant -- the American people are doomed to paranoia and fear because of the choices made, the violence done over the years that has made countless victims both within and without the US. Our brains are on standby, our heart and idealism dead, and all we have to cling to as we move toward an uncertain future is a desire to survive, a capacity for violence, good memories of the past, and a blind faith in our righteousness.

Don't stop believin'...

...was the end of this wonderful show.

Black.

Just black.

Some of you screamed "What?" at that sudden cut to black.

The fact that you said something, that you scrambled for the cable box to fill the silence and black, probably means you weren't shot.

It just felt a little like it.

Me? I sat there and almost cried. The end hurt so much and so good.

Remember when Carmela, awed by the beauty of Paris, asked who would build such a city? All those people built and lived and died in something so beautiful. And for what? Why? What does it mean?

I loved Carmela a little then. I loved her for breaking down. I loved her for asking.

Every finale ends at darkness. Is that now too trite to say?

Unfortunately, on television this darkness is usually followed by a very loud and obnoxious commercial for something I don't need.

Thank you David Chase and HBO for giving me time to break down.

I needed that.

-EV

p.s. If someone amongst all these enjoyable responses has already mentioned the things I've written, then I apologize for not reading you and giving you the credit you deserve.

Okay, we still had the penultimate episode on our Tivo, so I watched the last session with Melfi a second time. I have a totally different take on it now that I've seen how the series ends. Last week, we were all totally appalled that Melfi would dump Tony like that after 8 years in therapy, especially while he was in "crisis." But looking at it now--and setting aside discussions about whether her conduct strictly adhered to professional standards--I think what she did was justifiable and based on a dead-on read of Tony. I was actually kind of proud of her.

Last week, I would have said that Melfi and Elliott K. were wrong about Tony being a sociopath. But in retrospect, I think he kind of is, and I think Melfi realized she was being conned and threw him out of her office when she realized he ultimately had no respect for her profession and what she was trying to do. The dead giveaway is that Tony didn't fall apart after Melfi dropped him. In fact, it didn't even faze him. Indeed, one might have thought that either Melfi's move, Sil's shooting, Bobby's death, or having to run for his life and spend a couple of weeks in a safe house might have prompted Tony to reassess the way he lives his life. However, once the "crisis" had passed, he and everyone else in his family resumed doing what they've always done. Moreover, it didn't take more than a week for Tony to start warming up to AJ's new therapist, whose sexy legs rival Melfi's, and to immediately start up with his interminable whining about the way his mother treated him. Tony values the people in his life only insofar as they are useful to him. Once they are no longer useful, they might as well be dead (like Christopher).

So Melfi called it correctly. Tony had absolutely no willingness to commit to any change, he just wanted an hour a week to whine about his mother, and for that matter, all the women in his life (as Melfi says, "And somehow, the female always disappoints"). He was not there for treatment, he was just there to pay some woman to listen to him whine for an hour. And once Melfi realized that, she realized she had been little more than a goomar and couldn't tolerate the relationship for a moment longer.

Watch the scene for yourself, and see if you don't feel differently about Melfi's actions.