For me, the signs of a truly great story are that it opens up conversations about itself and that its meaning changes as time goes by. By that measure, the now-legendary ending of The Sopranos may stand alone at the top of finale mountain. We’re almost two decades removed from that final cut to black, and many of us are still thinking about it. In fact, I’m thinking about so much, it’s starting to really freak me out.
Stories That Get Better With Age And Experience
I’ve often said that the reason Catcher In The Rye is one of my favorite books is that every time I read it, and I’ve read it four times, it means something different to me. When I was in high school, I empathized with Holden. When I was an adult, I hated him. It works both ways. Now, after experiencing a major health scare that could have killed me, it got me looking at Tony’s death in The Sopranos in a totally different way.
We can argue what that famous ending really meant -- you can watch again with an HBO Max subscription. Did it mean Tony was dead? Did the guy in the Members Only jacket whack him? Did the show just end because David Chase didn’t know how? I’ve always thought that a hard cut to black meant Tony was whacked, and he died in that moment. And then there was nothing. Now, I find myself thinking, is that really all there is? When you die, do things just cut to black and it’s over? And what does that mean? It’s all very stressful at times. The fact that the story of Tony Soprano has changed for me proves how good a story Chase was telling, and how he really stuck the landing.
Then There Is Nothing
I’ve never spent a lot of time thinking about death. It’s not that I've avoided it or denied that one day I’ll die; it’s that I’ve never dwelt on it. I’m not particularly religious, and I’m not really fascinated with the idea of an afterlife of any kind. Well, I should say, I wasn’t fascinated with the idea. Now, I find those thoughts creeping into my head more often, and it’s because, for the first time, I truly understand my own mortality, and not in a philosophical way, but in a very real, very tangible way. Aging and health scares will do that to you.
Does death mean it’s just a cut to black? I guess that means we don’t have any real consciousness of it, which is both comforting and terrifying. It means I definitely fear death, but not because of the unknown of death and what happens, but because it’s almost like not getting to see the end of a movie. When you die, you face the cliffhanger of all cliffhangers: What happens to the rest of the world for the rest of time? It seems silly, and I know that analogy is a little trite, but it sticks with me. What will become of my family? What will become of my friends and their families? We’ll never know if things just…end. And that’s what freaks me out more than anything.
So thank you, David Chase and James Gandolfini for giving me maybe more than I want to chew on. It truly was a brilliant end to a brilliant show, even if some don't like it as much as me.
