We finished a month-long binge of The Sopranos last night—the first time we’ve watched the acclaimed series since our 21-inch bedroom TV smash-cut to black the night of June 10, 2007. (I.e., its finale.) At the time, and I won’t give away too much here, I was positive something had gone wrong with either our TV or cable; when the end credits finally scrolled forth, it was like… huh?! What?! You gotta be kidding me! That’s the end?!
In retrospect, however, it was a genius conclusion—open-ended, to an extent, regardless of David Chase’s intent. On one hand, to borrow a lyric from the Journey song underscoring the scene, it shows that life “goes on and on and on.” Through the previous 85 episodes, after all, Tony proved himself to be the ultimate survivor. On the other, as Bobby Bacala—his brother-in-law and fellow mobster—contemplated a few episodes earlier about the violent death they all feared, “You probably don’t even hear it when it happens.”
We’ve re-watched many old favorites through the years, especially during the summer months when little else is on. Why wait so long for The Sopranos, which is one of the greatest series to ever grace the cable wires? Good question. In part, I think, it’s due to the conflicted feelings it engenders. Tony is essentially a charismatic psychopath; you find yourself, against your better judgment, rooting for him.
He is not someone who, in a moment of weakness, would get down on his knees and pray to the Lord for help and forgiveness.
How that fits with the moody “Lord Will,” the latest single from country-inflected singer-songwriter Madison Hughes—who knows? Chalk it up to synchronicity, I suppose. The song finds a down-and-out Hughes, who’s unable to wash a man out of her hair, seeking help from above. A part of her wants to repair the damage, to work things out, but “the hate inside my heart is all there is/‘Cause what’s been broke I just can’t heal.” In an odd way, now that I think about it, it’s actually a bit like that The Sopranos finale: There’s no clear resolution by song’s end, just the holding out of hope that life, love and heartache go on and on and on.
The Old Grey Cat 