I suppose I should put in my two cents about the Soprano’s finale. I had recorded the program because, when one of your favorite people asks you if you want to go see George Carlin, you go see George Carlin.
So, when Meadow reached for the door to the diner (after ten of the most unbelievably suspenseful minutes I’ve ever spent in front of a television or a movie screen) and my television screen went black, I sat there. I just sat there. I didn’t immediately panic because the screen didn’t come up asking me if I wanted to erase the program like it does when the DVR stops recording before the program ends. So…I sat there. Then, the credits began to roll and I sat there some more.
When the credits were done, I pondered the final scene. I decided that I liked the non-ending ending. Life goes on. Just because we won’t get to see A. J. fuck up his new movie job or Meadow become an attorney for the Soprano family or Carmela fall in lust with a contractor at her new beach house or Tony make up with Dr. Melfi and fret over more possible indictments or the FBI guy continue to live a life of quiet desperation doesn’t mean it isn’t all still happening in some HBO parallel universe.
Yep. I liked it.
Oh! The Cat!
The cat was obviously a reincarnated Adriana. Period. End of story.