Monday, June 11, 2007

A poet's translation of the Soprano's

I will not follow the masses. I quite enjoyed the final moments of the Sopranos. I look at it from a poet's point of view. Jim tipped me off with some of these ideas. This may all be a long shot, but I think the final scenes reflected ordinary life. How detailed life is. How it is viewed from many different perspectives. How, like in the show, we never know what will happen. Is there a Godfather reference in there? The creepy guy goes to the bathroom -- oh! the gun is hidden over the window!

Meadow crosses the street. Is she going to get hit by a car? Is she going to annouce her decision to go to med school? Her mother tells her father that she has gone to the doctor. A look of panic crosses his face. It turns out that Meadow is just changing her birth control pills! The parents have made a job for their son. They have tricked him into believing it's glamorous. but he ends up fetching coffee all day! Tony puts a quarter in the jukebox and nothing happens, except a song comes on. Tony rakes the yard, he looks at the sky, the mom announces the dinner plans, how close to real life can you get? How much further from TV can one stray? And certainly far, far from any mobster drama?

This is really TV reflecting life. We rake the leaves, we look at the sky, we order cokes, we all have a favorite stupid song from the 70's, 80's, or 90's. If it's not Journey, it's Boston or Blondie, or my favorite Supertramp.

David Chase has tricked us. He has slowed things down, made us look. Anyone in the family could die at any moment. But, couldn't any of us?

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