The Sopranos Series Finale: Bada Bing! Bada Bang! Bada Bye Bye!

I must confess that I was a late-comer to the Sopranos party. It took the simultaneous interest of my parents and my then-boyfriend to draw me into “this thing of ours.” But like the mafia itself, the show is impossible to escape once you’re in.

Much has been made of its impact on television. The Sopranos was the first series to feature a complex, deplorable person as a protagonist. It was also the first series to challenge comfortable plot lines tied up in neat little bows. Most of my favorite television shows owe their existence, in whole or in part, to Tony and his crew.

(spoilers after the jump)

Last week’s episode ended with Tony curled up on a bare bed in a safe house with an automatic weapon given to him by his now-dead brother in law Bobby. His longtime consigliere Silvio Dante lies in a coma. Both are victims of hits taken out by Phil Leotardo’s New York organization.

Andy and I both thought that the finale would end a la Scarface: Tony in an epic shoot out, his enemies closing in. But Tony negotiates his way out of yet another standoff. Series creator David Chase had something less conclusive in mind for his characters.

The underlying theme of the series has always been change. Everything changes, sometimes so slowly and imperceptibly that you don’t notice until the axis of your world has shifted. The older mobsters often lament, “things aren’t the way they used to be.” When Starbucks comes to the old neighborhood, Tony’s crew can’t extract protection money from the manager because all expenses are itemized by corporate down to the dime.

Nowhere is this theme clearer than in the fate of Tony’s arch-enemy Phil Leotardo. In the penultimate episode of the season, Phil lists his myriad reasons for having Tony whacked. He doesn’t like the way they do things over in Jersey. “Five families and he heads up this bastard thing in Jersey,” he spouts. Their initiation rituals are different. Tony doesn’t respect the business. They don’t respect tradition. “Plain and simple, it’s over. We decapitate and we do business with whatever’s left,” he says.

But today’s mob cares more for money than tradition, or even honor. Most made guys are embracing legitimate business ventures. The underworld is dying. Phil’s crew is more interested in doing business than in the old code of Cosa Nostra. New York agrees to back off, and Tony’s unlikely alliance with the FBI agent who used to cover his case results in a successful hit on Phil.

The final scene itself was as revolutionary, and anxiety-producing as the rest of the show. As Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believing” plays in the background, Tony meets his wife and grown children at a burger joint for dinner. Someone in the organization has flipped and an indictment looms. The camera pans to several characters in the restaurant, as if a hit is about to occur on the entire family. Meadow, the last to arrive, makes repeated unsuccessful attempts at parallel parking before finally easing her Lexus into the spot. As she runs into the restaurant, the music stops and the screen goes blank. Chase leaves just enough time for the audience to say, “what the…?” before the credits roll.