The Law Firm of Paulie, Sil, and Meadow

If you haven’t seen it, stop reading, but if you haven’t seen it, see it. The penultimate episode of the Sopranos tonight is maybe one of the best hours of drama in history. And not just because Tony, in confessing his disappointment that Meadow is going to be a lawyer instead of a doctor, hopes that at the least “she’ll wind up at a big firm.” Honestly, Tony, you’ve got bigger problems right now than the summer program at Cravath.

The Sopranos has been the best show on television for a while now—even as it declined from the pure genius of the first three seasons. I recently caught a few of the inaugural episodes on a Saturday afternoon on A&E, and though it insults the enterprise to try to show the Sopranos on basic cable (the same goes for Mel Brooks movies and the Big Lebowski), the writing still shines through. What Chase was able to do in the first few seasons—what he lost in the later years—was to tie together a constellation of characters: the cop on the take, Assemblyman Zellman, Hesh, Ralphie, Carmine and the whole New York crew, Big Pussy, Junior in more lucid form. In the last few seasons, all of those plotlines and characters have just—pardon the expression—bled away. The Sopranos universe is emptier. But now, in emptying it out for good, Chase has regained his footing. In terms of comedy, tragedy, and sheer shock value, the last eight episodes have been spectacular, and the series is going out with a helluva bang. (No more, I promise.)

I think most of the credit goes to the writers. James Joyce would be proud of the sheer volume of sly references, allusions, witticisms, malapropisms, and other comedic constructions that fill up an hour of the Sopranos. (The silver medal for the line of the night goes to Agent Harris’s mocking deadpan: “It’s end times, ready for the Rapture.” Gold goes to Tony’s blithe dismissal of Melfi: “You don’t need a gynecologist to know which way the wind blows,” which takes Dylan up (down?) to a whole new level.)

So, how do we think it’s going to end? I read somewhere that Chase hates being told he has to wrap things up neatly, but at this point, there’s a bullet for Tony or a bullet for Phil, right?

Actually, I don’t think so. I think Chase dropped a giant hint in this episode about where things are going. When Sil, Tony, and Bobby sit down at the restaurant to plot their move against New York, did you hear the music playing? That’s the same music at the end of Godfather III, when they kill Michael’s daughter Mary on the steps of the opera house in Sicily. (That it also meant we didn’t have to hear Sophie Coppola speak any more makes it a mixed bag.) The analogue here would be that the last bullet is meant for Carmela or Meadow, the two women Tony loves the most.

Could it happen? Chase obviously respects the Godfather trilogy enormously, and you can’t go more than a few episodes without some reference. Don’t forget either how, earlier in the season, Tony presided over the baptism of Christopher’s newborn, and then killed Christopher a short while later. That’s Godfather I. (“Come on Carlo,” Al Pacino says with a sneer, “do you really think I’d make my sister a widower?” And the answer is of course yes.) Chase delivered on the foreshadowing there, and I suspect he might do it again. (And did you catch the cinematography of Melfi closing the door on Tony, which was pretty much identical to the last shot of the first Godfather?)

The punchline of Godfather III was that Michael lost those he loved the most—his daughter and Kay (again). It was a fate worse than death. Tony seems set up for a similarly morbid ending. It’s hard to think of a more bitter fate than being left alive with your wife or daughter killed, your lieutenants all dead, your sister a widower, your nephew suffocated, your son suicidal, your uncle broke and crazy, and your business destroyed. Tony is meant to suffer—not to die.

On the other hand, the tragedy of Godfather III centered on Michael’s broken efforts to love the women in his life. “I spent my life protecting my family,” Michael screams at Kay in an early scene in the movie. People get distracted by the plot about the church, but what Godfather III is really about is the ennobling but slightly sinister efforts of Michael to reconcile with Kay and to protect Mary. (I know most people don’t like the third one, but like Massive Genius, I just think its misunderstood.) Michael did everything for his family—and that’s precisely what he lost, dying old and alone with a dog at his feet where his father died with grandchildren at his feet.

The problem with killing Carmela or Meadow is that Tony doesn’t “deserve” such a Greek fate. He’s not a family guy like Michael—he’s an asshole. A misogynist, someone who has betrayed his wife repeatedly and who doesn’t understand his daughter. He’s a bad father and a bad husband. Carmela is emotionally dead already at Tony’s hands; formalizing the situation wouldn't change much. (Note Dr. Melfi’s observation about the “women who continually disappoint” Tony.) Would the pathos be as thick for Tony to lose Carmela as for Michael to have lost Mary? I’m not so sure. But I still think Chase will do it.

That’s my $3080 bet on how it ends, for what its worth. Any other theories out there? I could see Paulie being a turncoat and pulling the trigger on Tony himself. I mean, why else does Phil spare him anyway? Of course he’s “management.” And he’s had it good with Brooklyn since Johnny Sack buttered him up, and don’t forget how Tony came this close to reacquainting Paulie with Big Pussy on the boat a few weeks ago.

In closing, Judge Chase, may I make just one final plaintive plea, just two words? Sopranos prequel.

Update: The, um, head writer of the Sopranos says I'm completely full of shit.