It’s Not Tony Soprano’s Fault, Fer Chrissake!
My good, good writer friend wrote to me this comment after a mildly lukewarm discussion about the Television non-Event that was the terminus of the Soprano saga:
This is a link to an interview with David Chase.I have to say….having time to think on it, it was a good way to end the show. That’s how life is, no? Keeps you guessing. Especially with the mob. Never know if someone got offed or is just laying low. Right?
In the interview, Chase quips:
“People get the impression that you’re trying to (mess) with them . . . “
meaning
“People get the impression that you’re trying to f*ck with them and they’d be right. I’m richer than God, have a 27-year old bombshell of a wife, a swimming pool with a cabana the size of your house and, basically, I don’t give a f*ck, so, fuck you, peon-ass mutherf*ckers. Waiter! My lettuce isn’t crisp enough!”
It’s not life. In life, there never is true resolution. One problem goes on the back burner when another one comes to boil. One joy is sublime and the memory remains festering as the impetus to quest for a new one which is in turn supplanted by the minor joy of, say, ice cream or a starry night or bare feet.
This is television – American television – and we want it all tied up with a neat and pretty bow, because we’re Americans, dammit! We need our Reality Replacement Therapy to be complete and in the proper dose. Thank you very much.
By the way, I don’t disagree with my good, good friend’s opinion – it’s the Chases of the world that get me turning in a grave I don’t yet inhabit. They want people like her to settle for whimpering, simpering plots that meander to nowhere. That’s too much like life for my taste.