Each day is a gift
Sopranos Season Six: finished!
It's just too good to put down. That and the fact that I'm on holiday (because it's Christmas) means that half a series has been polished off in two sittings, five episodes on Thursday night, the final two last night. What a rush. That's too many episodes to individually log them, but the last one, Kaisha was written by Terence Winter, David Chase and Matthew Weiner and directed by Alan Taylor, who are close to the dream team. It was an odd ending, as the really big stuff had been dealt with in the penultimate ep, Cold Stones (directed by Tim Van Patten, written by Diane Frolov and Andrew Schneider), ie. the horrible death of ... hang on. Let's assume anybody who hasn't seen Season Six yet will avoid any reviews of said season and will stop reading ... spoilers! spoilers! ... now. Though the shooting of Tony was the big arc this season, after which each day was a gift, the tale of Vito Spatafore lay at its heart. Once he'd been outed, in a comedic way, things turned nasty, but his New Hampshire odyssey ran in bucolic parallel to the macho New Jersey he'd left behind. It was beautifully plotted and brilliantly played by Joseph Gannascoli, walking with his dodgy hip towards certain death but enjoying one last chance for peace and "Johnny Cakes" along the way. A bona fide tragedy. He was dead the moment he was caught by Finn in Season Five, but the Sopranos knows how to "seed" a later storyline. Lots of other interesting stuff set up for the final run: a possible clash between Christopher and Tony over Nurse Hathaway, something to do with the war on terror laid down in a conversation between Christopher and Agent Harris, possibly even a war of terror between New York and New Jersey, all dependent on how much time Phil Leotardo wants to spend with his grandchildren when he's out of hospital. And Anthony Jr's relationship with Blanca and her son Hector could be the making of him ("at least she's a Catholic"). It's been a magnificent series, from Artie Shaw onwards, with plenty for the supporting cast to do, not least Paulie, Silvio, Bobby, Vito and even Artie Bucco. The family tableau that ended it was so filled with irony, portent and depth - you need six seasons to earn all that.
Vito: the man deserves a pictorial tribute:
One question remains:
Who put the note on the pinboard in Tony's ward?
posted by Andrew Collins @ 9:19 AM
3 Comments
Contact
Andrew at
3 Comments:
God Andrew, I feel a right tit. Since I got the Freeview in the summer, my quality control rating has sunk to around ankle-level, and I've spent the last six months watching Dog Borstal, How Clean Is Your House, endless repeats of Queer Eye, and any and all programmes about obese and/or wayward children. Oh, and the repeat of Our Friends In The North. Clearly, I need help.
Much like my beloved football, I guess it really is a game of opinions (or two halves but that would be making a different point). I felt that Curb Season 4 had the edge over 5 simply because The Producers plot (though silly) was way more entertaining than the kidney. Ricky Gervais might have felt so too if his ripping off of the "wet sneeze" gag was anything to go by.
What's more, I was bored stiff by the Tony Soprano coma storyline maybe because I feel that after all these years he's made his bed and it's a little late for what might have been. But - hey - David Chase never wanted to make all these extra episodes in the first place. One final spoiler...I believe that the poem at the start of the sixth season might just hold the key to what ultimately happens to all the main characters...
Nice tip, Glen. Wasn't that William Burroughs?
Don't feel a right tit, Clair. Trash telly is good too. Celebrity Big Brother starts tonight. I'll be tuning in, The Wire Season Two DVD box set cruelly discarded. And you wouldn't believe how many episodes of Diet Doctors I watched in 2006, not to mention You Are What You Eat and Ten Years Younger. Variety is the spice of life.
Post a Comment
<< Home