Facing the first Sunday of the rest of their lives, addicts should consider Dick Cavett’s question: How is a person supposed to live without “The Sopranos”?
To answer, we must first deal with last week’s ending and the growing consensus that the sudden blackout signified Tony’s death. A dissent on aesthetic grounds: If David Chase had intended that to mean Tony’s loss of consciousness, the camera would not have been on his face but seeing the room through his eyes.
Be that as it may, put aside the survival of Anthony Soprano while considering spinoffs to assuage our grief:
The Melfi Files: Haunted by loss, the therapist embarks on dramatic, dangerous encounters with patients from various fringes of society, to the constant consternation of her mentor, Dr. Eliot Kupferberg.
The Hunt for Junior’s Gold: Janice has to fend off con men and fortune hunters attempting to penetrate her uncle’s Alzheimer’s and find his hidden stash. Sub-theme: Is Corrado just faking it to throw off the Feds?
Nine Lives of Christopher the Cat: Twilight Zone fantasies centering on the feline inheritor of the Moltisanti spirit hovering over and protecting his wife and baby while devising devilish ways to keep making Christopher’s collections for them.
Meadow Soprano Esq.: Heartwarming tales of a public defender saving the lost souls of our society, featuring a different ethnicity each week.
The Artie Bucco Kitchen Capers: Comedy series featuring colorful patrons and a special Italian recipe each week. Guest appearances by Stanley Tucci and Tony Shalhoub.
A.J.’s Entourage: Loopy stories about Hollywood losers coalescing around a Mafia prince.
There is no cure, but these pale palliatives would be intended to help Soprano Syndrome sufferers through unbearable Sundays when DVDs of the original series are not strong enough to ease the pain.
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Consensus? Did you write "consensus"? As long as folks like me consider Mr. Chase's Soprano ending to be little more than flatulence expelled, there is no consensus. You may be trying to describe merely the contortions which the apologists must assume in order to impose intelligence on the ignorant ending: much like admiring a pile of excrement on which someone has successfully applied shoe polish. Read tea leaves, Mr. Stein, when your passion abates for the Sopranos. They offer as much satisfaction, insight and art, and will at least justify your effort.
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