By Aaron
A great poet now unfairly tarred with the curse of having created Cats once wrote: "This is the way the world ends. This is the way the world ends. This is the way the world ends. Not with a bang, but with a whimper." That's always been a favorite poem of mine, mainly because I first read it at an impressionable age, although it's also not like I haven't made my feelings on arbitrary repetition pretty clear over the past thirteen weeks. Speaking of which, you know what would make this paragraph better? ["A point?" -- David Chase] Well, yeah, but I was gonna say a hockey reference. But then I remembered that there are only about six people in the entire world that would ever get "In the room the women come and go, talking of Frank Pieterangelo." Fortunately, though, four of the six are pissed-off Devils' fans, so even if that's more of a whimper than a bang, it all still works out in the end. And hey, what do you know? There's my point. It all works out in the end, even when it's just a whimper. But more on that in a few pages. For now, all you need to know is that with my precious Penguins sent packing, I've gone back to my ancestral Bostonian roots and transferred my official allegiance to Ray Bourque. And also Peter Forsberg's spleen. ["But do you dare to eat a peach?" -- Sars]
Anyway, given the fact that this week's StR and StTM calculations required the lease of a substantial amount of CPU time on a Defense Department super-computer (and I better not be hearing any crap from Accounting on that one), I've been forced to add the additional variable StFIC to the complex sequence of differential equations that comprise the MBTV Official Episode Quantification Algorithm. Don't worry, it's not Start-to-FanFic, it's Start-to-Freaky-Intertextual-Coincidence. You see, not twelve hours after I post a crack about someone pissing in a garage, David Chase elects to open the show with, well, someone pissing in a basement, which is probably about as close a shout-out as you've got any right to expect on that particular subject. This time it's AJ and his friend (who I'm just going to assume is Egon because I like the name), and they're camped out in the Verbum Dei boiler room, presumably in anticipation of some mischief. After pausing briefly to relieve themselves against the wall (with the curious absence of any tinkling sound effects), they sneak upstairs to a classroom, and go hunting through the desk until AJ finds the folder they were looking for.
Cut to the Little Lord, walking anxiously down a housing project hallway. After passing a black woman who you just know would be sassy if they only allowed her to speak, the Little Lord and his escort arrive at a door and knock. It's opened by a young black guy, and he readily agrees to let Jackie crash in exchange for a Glock 9. Suddenly he's joined at the door by his daughter, who introduces herself as "Nina" and asks the Little Lord for his name. Based on last week's super scientific voting tabulations (and unlike certain major networks, we take our polling responsibilities quite seriously here at MBTV), she's one of the few people out there who actually cares what his name is. Instead of choosing to please the second largest contingent of his demographic by answering, "Hi. I'm Little Lord 'The Poo Ass' Fuckpants. Nice to meet you, little girl," he actually just keeps getting dumber and replies that he shouldn't say. As they head back into the apartment, their host suggests the nom de retard of "Mr. X," and LL"TPA"FP's buddy opines that Jackie will be safe there because "[his] Guido friends would never think to look" in a housing project.
Cut to the Green Grove Retirement Community. You know, where the Feds would never think to look for Tony and his Guido friends in season one? Yeah, that place. Out front, Paulie pops the trunk on his car, and -- whoa, hey, hang on a sec there, kids. Uh, where did Paulie get his car? Didn't the Russian steal it? And don't tell me it's a new one, because they show a full shot of the windows, and there's nary a sticker in sight. I actually haven't been all that bothered by the now-you-see-it-now-you-don't method of storytelling they seem to have adopted this year, mainly because they've been upfront from day one that this season was going to be about the characters rather than the plot, and I think to a large extent they've succeeded with that. Not explaining where the car came from, however, is just being lazy -- especially given what happens in the rest of the episode. I'm sorry, but it is. Anyway, to make up for it, Chase tosses us another StFIC coefficient, since I did ask to see Paulie's mother a few weeks back, and lo and behold, here she is. In fact, she's just about what you'd expect her to be, only slightly rounder. He helps her inside, where an employee takes her on the grand tour. Mamma Walnuts is delighted to discover her fellow residents singing Sammy Kahn, and after being reassured that she won't be forced to eat snails on "Parisian Night," she breaks down in tears of joy that her "son lets her live in a place like this." "Yeah, well, who's the queen?" he replies, and I can just make out the faint rumblings of a hastily prepared anvil being launched in the distance.
Maison de Soprano. In a (perhaps) vain attempt to make up for the lack of whiz-bang action in this week's finale, David Chase has obviously opted to front-load with shout-outs and robe shots. This week's StR = 147, which is the season's third best overall. Tony and Carmela are hanging out at the breakfast table, and Tony is relating a long story from the sports page about a young athlete who basically turns out to be Len Bias. This reminds Carmela of the grief Rosalie must be experiencing, as the Little Lord had her convinced he was "just smoking a little marijuana, making Cs in school" (and God knows, we've all been there), but now everyone seems to believe that he's some kind of hard-core drug dealer. She waxes philosophical about the perils of parenthood, but then reassures Tony that "[he] tried, with that boy." Tony doesn't look so sure.
Jaromir Jagr: Sorry I'm late, I had a rough week. What did I miss?
Santa Claus: Me dropping off Paulie's new car, apparently.
David Chase: Hey, there's no need to get snippy. You know I'm just a good ol' boy, never meaning no harm. And after all, this show still beats all you never saw. I mean, these guys have been in trouble with the law since the day they were born.
Aaron Sorkin: Ain't that the truth. Hey, you think the Little Lord's got any 'shrooms?
Madonna: Oooh! Count me in if he does.
Michael Imperioli: Yo, can I get a little quiet over here, please? Some us are still waiting to find out if we're getting whacked or not.
John F. Kennedy: Don't worry, it's actually not as bad as you'd think.
At a Frank Lloyd Wright-esque diner somewhere, Paulie, Silvio, and Joey Pants are concluding their bi-weekly captain's staff meeting. Paulie is upset that he hasn't gotten his take from a safe-cracking job he tipped Joey to, but Pants basically blows him off with a bad accountant joke. "Kind of in arrears in the respect department, though, aren't you?" asks Paulie, and Silvio rubs it in even further by reminding Joey that his future stepson "pissed on his leg" when he took down the card game. If nothing else, season three will forever be remembered as the Era Of Incontinence. Joey promises to "give that little fuck[pants] an ah matz' he’ll never forget. As soon as we can locate him." Silvio scoffs at that notion, as well as the Little Lord's feelings of safety, by immediately pointing out the kid is hiding in a housing project. Joey just changes the subject right back to the money he supposedly owes Paulie, and they bicker about it some more until Pants's cell phone rings. We get a quick cut to show us that it's Wide Guy calling from a parking lot somewhere, but Joey, ever the smooth operator, claims that it's Tony and gets up to take the call. Hey, Wide Guy's name is Vito. Thanks for pointing that out with forty-five minutes left in the season. Joey tries to keep his end of the conversation sounding businesslike while Wide Guy just rambles on about what he can see from the parking lot, including "a rabbit or a squirrel or something. I don't what it is. Maybe a possum? Also, there's a woman who wants to sell my monkey." Okay, not so much that last part, but if there ever were a Sopranos character that would have a monkey, Wide Guy would be it. Joey finally ends the call, claiming that "Tony needs [him]" and they can resolve the money problem another time. Paulie is not pleased.
Das Sopranohaus. Tony, as usual, is sprawled out in bed when the phone rings. It's the Little Lord, which finally jolts the big guy awake. Jackie begs for help in sweaty close-up that does an excellent job of conveying just how desperate he really is, but Tony tells him he'll have to take the matter up with Joey Pants. Jackie, perhaps not surprisingly, plays the father card, asking Tony to help "for [his] dad, if not for [him]." But alas, according to Tony, "the expiration date on that was last week, and all your bullshit with it." The Little Lord protests that Tony did the exact same thing (i.e. heist the family card game) when he was kid, but Tony just says the same thing everyone watching at home yelled at their screens, which was "Go think about it. See if you can figure out the difference." He slams down the phone, and we cut to the tearful Jackie Jr. sprawled out on the apartment floor. Nina walks up behind him, and from the mouths of babes we get the following meta-exchange. Nina: "Can you play chess?" Little Lord: "No." Nina: "I can. My daddy taught me." If you don't catch the higher meaning at first, just go think about it. See if you can figure out the difference.
In another parking lot somewhere, Wide Guy hands over a duffel bag to Furio, who tosses it in the trunk of his car and limps back to the driver's seat. He's got himself a cute little cane, and while I was kind of looking forward to seeing him on Kerry-Weaver-style crutches, I gotta admit, he carries it well. Across the way, Joey climbs into Tony's Suburban, yammering that while everyone else is talking about an "economic downturn," Tony just picked up three hundred thousand dollars in cash from the Esplanade project. Tony congratulates Joey on his earning power, but then stops him from getting out of the car to ask, "Did Jackie Jr. call you?" When Joey says no, Tony replies, "Well, he called me." Pants starts apologizing, which makes Tony start patronizing, and he again assures Pants that he knows he'll do the right thing. "You don't want to create insubordination and confusion," continues Tony, except that's exactly what he himself is trying to do here. "More important than the particular decision is that it happen in a timely fashion." The extra emphasis on "timely" causes Joey to sigh and shrink down in his seat. "Then again, why am I telling you?" asks Tony. "You already know this shit. You're a captain. Chain of command is very important in our thing." Finally he gives Joey a big slap on the back and sends him scurrying on his way.
Cut to the Principal's office at Verbum Dei. Headmaster Weasel has AJ and Egon sitting in his office, and they're all smiling and looking proud as he goes on about the great scores they received on their (apparently stolen) math midterms. Okay, so what kid, when called to the principal's office to discuss a test they know they cheated on, is going to be sitting there smiling like a fool? Answer: AJ. I'd have been nervous as hell, but it's not until Headmaster Weasel suggests ringing their parents with the good news that AJ's cool finally starts to break. "Oh, you don't have to do that," he suggests, prompting the principal to sit back and simply say, "What do you want to tell me? If you cooperate now, things will be easier later on." AJ insists that all they did was study hard, but Headmaster Weasel leans forward again with a gleam in his eye and reports, "I don't have to waste my time with you. It was both your urines that Mr. Lubimov had to spend two hours cleaning off the wall. Your DNA was a perfect match." The boys buy that line hook, line, and gene sequence, and Egon bursts out crying while AJ tries to shake the blame by insisting that he "didn't even have to pee until [Egon] did." Ha! First because they're so stupid, and secondly because I never knew that the plural for "urine" was "urines." Strangely enough, I've never needed to know that in common conversation (and people who know me well will say it's very strange indeed). I'm also going to go out on a limb here and suggest that the kid playing Egon give his agent a call, and try to get a spot playing Jen Lindley's new college boyfriend on Dawson's Creek. They'd be perfect for each other. You know, with the pig-face and all. Plus, his fake crying is way better than most of the actors they've already got.
FBI headquarters. The agents are all gathered in a conference room, discussing their plans to take down the Soprano family. If you watch this scene closely, you can actually see the writers ticking off plot points in the background. Apparently, Junior has beaten cancer in the two weeks since "Pine Barrens" aired, and now has a new trial date scheduled in thirty days. Also, the bugged lamp is gone, and the episode one surveillance on Adriana and Carmela playing tennis has led the agents to decide to go through Adriana to get to Christopher. The head guy buzzes on the intercom for "Deborah" to be sent in, and every other guy in the room immediately starts primping and straightening his tie. Deborah is of course being played by a bespectacled Fairuza Balk, who (as pointed out in the forums) appears to be channeling the presumably unavailable Debi Mazar. "How would you like a new best friend for the nine or ten months?" asks the head agent. Deborah is also apparently not real bright, because she just gapes at him until he continues, "Let me put it this way. How big can you make your hair?"
Cut to yet another board game the Little Lord sucks at. This time he's playing chess with Nina, and she has to chew him out for trying to move his pawn too many spaces in one move. Her dad comes over and sits down to check out the board. "I think you're done for," he tells the Poo Ass. "Look at the way she's developing her knights." After studying the board himself for a minute, Jackie angrily knocks the pieces over, which prompts Nina to gloat that she's won yet again. "You should have played that out," suggests Dad in the last meta-comment the Little Lord will ever have to hear. "That's the only way you're going to learn." A frustrated Fuckpants gets up to go for a walk, and after some quick teasing with the undeniably cute little kid, he heads outside.
Out on the street, he strides along oblivious to the looming approach of Wide Guy behind him. Maybe they intentionally skipped the sound effects in the first scene to help us suspend our disbelief here that there's any way Wide Guy could sneak up on anyone unawares (in a housing project, no less). He delivers a single bullet to the back of the head, and Jackie collapses into a snow-bank that's not only already stained red with blood before he even lands, but in fact wasn't even there when they showed a wide shot. See, that's the problem with these slow-moving, contemplative episodes. I tend to notice the embarrassing little details that are always there, but usually not worth mentioning. Although I guess we probably should just take a moment here to stop and commemorate Little Lord "That Poor Ass" Fuckpants and all the great moments he's so selflessly given us. "I really want to go into men's fashion." "'Ass' -- as in how about givin' me some?" and, of course, the iconic (and shockingly not even nominated in HBO's utterly bogus best line competition): "What, the life is good enough for me, but not Little Lord Fuckpants?" Let's also take a moment of silence for Sars and the grief she's endured at seeing my usage of the admittedly funny word fuck (in all its sartorial splendor) soar to heights heretofore unseen on this previously family-friendly website. I guess this is probably why they never let me near the broadcast networks, huh? I mean, you'll never see Demian slumming on the Sci-Fi Channel. Anyway, proshai, Little Lord. We'll miss you. Sort of.
At the Aprile Abode, Rosalie is on the phone with Joey Pants. There's some back-and-forth about the transmission on her car, and how much it's going to cost to fix it, and Joey is adamant that she not spend the money until his guy looks the car over. Then Wide Guy comes in behind him and silently confirms that the deed is done. Joey sighs, and turns back to the phone. "Forget it. I don't care. Let him do it," he says, like, thanks for letting her get her own car fixed now that you've just murdered her son. As further evidence (as if we needed anymore) that Pants is a serious sociopath, he decides that this would be the best time to brush his teeth, and he grabs a tube of Crest out his drawer before heading to the bathroom. Okay, so THAT was definitely the weirdest product placement of the season.
Bada Bing. Chris and Paulie are working the phones taking Super Bowl bets when Tony arrives. Paulie greets him warmly, but Chris barely even manages the token hug before sulking off to a betting parlor. Tony shrugs the diss off and opens the little mini-fridge that's to the TV. Finding it empty, he goes ballistic, kicking the door right off the fridge and screaming that he's "been dreaming about that lo mein all the way over here. Now who ate my shit?" "Not for nothing, T," replies a nervous Paulie, "but, uh, I think you've been wound a little tight lately." Do we really need to do the whole pot/kettle thing yet one more time this season? No? Okay, good. Once Tony calms down enough for coherent conversation, Paulie launches into a rant about the money Joey Pants owes him. Apparently, Paulie set up the scam, gave Joey the alarm codes to get inside, and now two weeks later still hasn't forked over Paulie's half of the loot. Tony promises to talk to him, but that only makes Paulie more peevish. "Fuck that!" he shouts. "I've been telling you for months that this guy was no good. And I need that money for my long-range planning." Would it really have killed them to throw in something like a quick "plus, I just had to buy a new car" line here? See how easy that would have been? But no. Paulie instead demands a sit-down, and Tony consents, providing that Paulie answers the phone that's been ringing this whole time. He does so, and then hands it off to Tony, explaining that it's Carmela, and "it sounds like she's crying." Tony gets up to answer, and you can see him thinking it's about Gloria the whole time. From his shocked "What?!?" we cut to…
Casa di Soprano. Tony and Carmela are lecturing AJ in the living room. "Permanent expulsion," exposits Carmela. "I prayed I would never see this." Uh, aren't all expulsions permanent? Wouldn't a temporary expulsion just be a suspension? I guess I'll need to leave one to my temporary expulsion of disbelief. Tony is furious as well, screaming that this could be a blessing in disguise, because Verbum Dei was too loose and easy. "How can you say that?" asks AJ. "I got expelled." That's actually a good, if rather snotty, point, and it sets Tony right off again. "I work hard all day to pay for this six-thousand-square-foot house, big-screen TVs, food on the table, video games, all sorts of scooters and bicycles…Columbia University. And for what? To come home to this?" Okay, first of all, "work hard"? And secondly, "all day"? I guess Tony's never tried to write to a recap, or he'd REALLY know what "all day" means. I did use the money to buy a big-screen TV, though. Thanks, Sars. AJ apparently shares my feelings on this subject (about Tony, not Sars, although I'm sure he'd like her too), and he snarks back with the always clichéd "sucks to be you." This earns him a pretty heavy smack across the face, and while I'm not a big believer in hitting your child, if there were ever a kid who deserved it, it's AJ. Well, okay, it would be Meadow, but AJ's close enough. AJ runs off in tears, and Carmela (after yelling at Tony) tries to catch him. "There's more where that came from," Tony yells after him. "We're starting a new regime around here." It figures that in the one scene where the Tony "Robespierre" Soprano joke would actually be relevant, they've got him dressed in some nasty gray paisley button-down. Anyway, Carmela returns to the living room and chews Tony out some more for hitting the kid, telling him, "The guidance counselor said this could be a plea for help." She wants to send AJ to some school for troubled kids that Verbum Dei recommended, but Tony demands that they not use any more schools that will "coddle" him. Putting his foot firmly down, Tony declares that AJ will be attending military school, and that he even picked up some brochures. "You got school brochures?" asks an incredulous Carmela, and Tony explains the he got them from Janice, who was planning to send her own troubled (and barely even alluded to) son before it was too late. I'm betting Janice's kid was intended to be yet another parallel plot-arc for this season, or perhaps it's just another demonstration that no one in that generation on this show will be getting out unscathed. Tony stomps off, ignoring Carmela's claim that she won't send the boy away.
Later, the family is sitting at the dinner table, while Tony leafs through a brochure for the Hudson Military Institute. "Now this I like," he says, "a 'highly-structured environment.'" AJ snots that he hasn't agreed to go yet, and Carmela tries to mollify him, but Tony is insistent. Before yet another argument can develop, the phone rings, and Carmela gets up to answer it. She talks to a "Marie" for a few moments, making frequent (and vehement) usage of the phrase, "Oh my god!" Finally she asks, "Where's Rosalie?" and we cut to the mysterious Marie, with Rosalie wailing and crying out-of-focus in the background. Carm hangs up and slowly turns back to Tony, who looks as if he already knows what's happened. "Jackie Jr. was shot to death in the Boonton housing project. By drug dealers," she tells them, and then tearfully runs off to the Aprile Abode. Tony and shell-shocked AJ sit quietly at the table for a beat, and then Tony catches his eye and almost whispers, "You see?" AJ does, and hangs his head a bit as the scene ends.
At Columbia, Meadow is (believe it or not) actually studying when AJ calls to say there's something he needs to tell her. "I already know. Like mom's not totally going tell to me that you got expelled…I heard you cracked and copped to everything." AJ insists that they had his DNA, but big sis sets him straight on how that works, causing him to feel even dumber. She tries to hang up, but he still has to deliver the news. "It's Jackie. He was doing a drug deal with some black dudes, and they shot him. Like, dead." The phone falls from Meadow's hand, and her face morphs from shock to sobbing.
Smash cut to Melfi's office, where Tony is explaining the situation to her, making sure to mention that "fortunately, they weren't girlfriend and boyfriend anymore." He's all jittery and nervous, but Melfi is a picture of cool composure as she asks, "You certainly saw it coming with this boy, didn't you?" Tony nods, and admits that "in the end, [he] failed him." Then he puts an exclamation point on it by combining my two favorite Sopranos sayings into "What the fuck are you gonna do?" He goes on to add, "I'll tell you one thing, though. I'm not gonna make the same mistake with AJ…him we're sending to military school." Melfi moves the conversation to Tony's hopes for his children, and his main concern seems to be that they not end up like him. He's happy that Meadow has expressed a desire to be a "professional woman," which is apparently not what it sounds like here. In fact, he says he'd like to see her be like Melfi. "A psychiatrist?" she asks, and he comes back with "What, and have to listen to guys like me whine all day?" Actually, it's not as bad as you'd think, despite the fact that I'm on page nine and not even halfway through the episode. He boils it down to "the important thing is that she get far away from me," before adding that she "could live close." Melfi understands what he's saying, and even smiles a bit before asking about AJ. "AJ?" wonders Tony. "In my line of work? Forget it. He'd never make it." Then they both break into a rousing chorus of "Only the dumb die young" as the scene ends. Feel free to sing along:
You might have heard I run with a dangerous crew
Carlo, Matush, and TFTSNBN too
And maybe I bit off more than I can chew
But it was Joey that gave me the gun
They showed me chess board and told me to play
I can't do Scrabble 'cuz I'm a Poo A
But they never told me the price that I'd pay
When the season had just begun
Oh, only the dumb die young.
The morning, Carmela comes into Meadow's room to inform her that everyone else is going up to the Hudson Institute for AJ's interview. "Jackie is dead," mutters Meadow, "and you perseverate over secondary schools?" Now I know she's depressed, but who uses the word "perseverate"? Then again, it's not like I haven't made my feelings on arbitrary repetition pretty clear over the past thirteen weeks. Anyway, Carmela sits down on the bed and starts gently explaining that she's already helped Rosalie and her sister make all the funeral arrangements. "Your brother doesn't have a school. He can't be allowed to sit around chatting all day on the web all day with the other dropouts and the flakes." Okay, I don't care what anybody says anymore. If you add up "perseverate" and "flakes and drop-outs chatting on the web," that almost has to be a shout-out to me. And by the way, Meadow? Looks kind of sexy with bed-head. Or maybe that's just me, too. So Meadow slowly articulates that Jackie was the first person her own age that she's ever known that died, and Carmela lays the blame squarely on his (mythical) drug dealing. "What, the X?" asks Meadow. "Half the kids I know take it." Including herself, of course, although I note that she neglects to mention that. She's also the only one (so far, at least) that doesn't buy the drug-dealer story. "Look at who he grew up with. Look at who his father was. Look at EVERYONE we know." Carmela doesn't like where this is going, and instructs her to not "get cute." Meadow gets all haughty and replies, "When I'm being cute, I'll let you know." I thought we'd already covered that with the bed-head bit, but I guess not. With her daughter crawling back under the covers, Carmela gets up, throws the curtains wide open, and basks in the warm glow of her denial. "Now you liked Jackie, so you don't want to believe that he did this to himself. So, like a lot of other people [read: Carmela, or alternately the idiots suing the show over their depiction of Italians], you go looking for boogeymen to blame. Boogeymen with Italian names. So whatever you're thinking, just stop thinking it right now, because that is not what happened." Meadow can only stare silently as Carmela marches out of the room.
And marches right into a shot of, well, marching. The cadets are parading around the grounds at the Hudson Military Institute, and inside, AJ sits with a Major Zwingli, who's played by B-movie refugee Tobin Bell. Incidentally, I love this guy. The Major asks about the cheating incident, and AJ blames everything on the intense academic pressure he was under at Verbum Dei. After winning Sars's heart by correcting the kid's grammar, he prompts AJ to continue. It's also worth mentioning here that he's got what appears to be a live grenade on his desk as a paperweight. Anyway, AJ says the pressure comes from his parents as well, because they expect him to go to Columbia just like Meadow. Of course, if they keep making such big donations, that probably won't be much of a problem. Major Zwingli disagrees with me, but still manages to win my heart yet again through the cunning use of rhyme. "Around here we call that stinking thinking. It's precisely the same with an alcoholic. No one makes him put that drink to his lips but himself." "I'm not an alcoholic!" insists AJ, but the Major just launches into his recruitment speech: "At your school, and it's not a bad school, there's too much emphasis on what's good for you. What's good for Johnny. What's good for Janey. Here the higher good is the good of the corps. As General MacArthur said in his farewell address at the Point, 'The corps. The corps. The corps.'" Well, I guess that makes the General's feelings on arbitrary repetition pretty clear. And while this doesn't mean you should start triple-posting in the forums or anything, everyone should at least try it at least once. Or, you know, thrice. Major Zwingli then runs down the daily schedule, which starts at 0530 each day and runs up to taps and lights out at 2200. "What's missing? Give up? Television," he asks/says in one long breath, and I actually have to turn off the TV and down a few shots of tequila to calm my nerves after envisioning life in such a horrible environment. AJ's only concern, however, is what time 0530 is. After explaining it to him, Major Zwingli complains, "I just outlined for you a blueprint for total self-discipline that will take you through your entire life, and that's your only question?" AJ struggles for a moment to come up with another one, and then offers this gem: "Why do guys in the army, or like spies, use that 'O' thing when they tell time?" The Major sighs and replies, "That will be made abundantly clear to you."
In the outer office, Tony and Carmela are waiting on a sofa. AJ and the Major emerge, and Zwingli orders a cadet who could possibly be Matt Damon's younger, uglier brother to give AJ the standard campus tour. As he escorts the parents back into his office, he tells them that he feels AJ would benefit greatly from Hudson's program. Then he pulls a pack of cigarettes out of his desk drawer while Carmela snits that she doesn't "agree with all this hard-nosed discipline." The Major calmly opens a window and replies, "The mothers seldom do," before lighting up. He sits on the windowsill and tells her to "wait until he starts opening doors for you and pulling back your chair." Now, I never went to military school, but if my dad ever caught me not doing those things, I probably would have been enrolled the week, so I guess I see his point. Tony thinks everything sounds great, but Carmela is still worried: "What about creativity? Independent thought?" Major Zwingli tries to reassure her by offering up the Army's new slogan, which is "Be an army of one," but Carmela isn't comforted by the StTM score (1,344), and wonders, "Why be an army at all? How about a veterinarian? Isn't there enough war in the world? With the amputees, the horrible displaced people…" You know, I haven't said it enough this season, but Edie Falco is a great actress, and I think her comedy chops are even better than her dramatic scenes. I've giggled every single time I've rewound past that line. The Major gives a bit more of his spiel, talking about mentoring and faculty involvement. Then he adds, "We've created too many options for our kids. We can't blame them for being confused. Then when things go wrong we fob them off on the burgeoning for-profit substance recovery industry." Cue the drag on his cigarette. Get it? Ha ha. Or, "Flick…ahhhh." You choose. Now Tony has some concerns, especially about this whole "army of one" thing. "What happens when each army of one decides, fuck it, I'm not going over the top of foxhole, or decides to blow the lieutenant's head off?" The Major replies with a joke about Audie Murphy that I'm way too young to get, and the scene ends with Tony and Carmela arguing about whether or not they want to train their son for a career in the military.
You know it's the season finale when even the robe gets its own close-up. Tony is in the bathroom, getting ready for bed, while Carmela shrills behind him. "You want to train him to be a professional killer?" she shouts, and Tony yells right back. They argue about the wisdom of marching with rifles all day, and Tony seems to feel that it will help teach the boy respect. As the argument moves into the bedroom, Carmela worries that AJ would be "subjected to the discipline of kids hardly older than himself. Does that seem smart? Boys his age still kill frogs and small animals." Uh, no, no they really don't. At least, not unless they're going to grow up to be Ted Kaczynski, they don't. Coincidentally, Tobin Bell once played Ted Kaczynski in a TV movie. That's not relevant in the least, but if I'm gonna do all this research for you people, you'd better believe I'm gonna find a way to work it in, even it just amounts to chumming the already confused waters. Tony pauses when he hears the "frogs and small animals" bit, and then quietly asks, "The Cusamanos' Binky? The cherry bomb with the nails in it? You think that was AJ?" Carmela doesn't, but she does think that AJ's just a normal boy who still has a lot to learn about the way the world works. "He thinks the world owes him a fucking living," spits back Tony. "Well, what could have given him that idea?" answers Carmela, and for a second, I thought he was going to hit her, too. Instead he points his finger at her all Alicia-style, saying, "We've tried things your way for fifteen years now. With the Berry Brazelton and the validating his feelings." What the hell is a Berry Brazelton? Is that like the Sherry Netherlands or something? ["Dr. T. Berry Brazelton wrote a whole series of child-rearing books. My parents own one of them; to my knowledge, they never opened it. Grounding For Dummies got a workout, though." -- Sars] Carmela's position seems to be final, however. "I will not send him to that place," she says, grabbing a blanket and pillow off the bed, but Tony quickly grabs them away from her and storms out to sleep on the couch himself. He tries to slam the door behind him, but it won't stay closed, and we get an extended montage of AJ and Carmela listening to his fury through their tears.
Now there's a clever cut to Carmela carefully opening the door to a funeral home. The whole Soprano family files inside, where they're met by Paulie. Carmela leads the kids to the back, and Paulie starts straight in with the talk about his sit-down. "Jesus Christ, can I bury my best friend's kid?" is Tony's only response, and he too heads for the back, leaving Paulie alone. After taking a moment to steady herself and grab Meadow's hand, Carmela leads them into the chapel. She tries to greet an obviously sedated Rosalie, and we can see that the room is almost completely empty, except for a few relatives and the Aprile crew. Thin Guy is taking bets on his cell phone, and Joey Pants has apparently decided that he'd rather sit with the boys than his grieving girlfriend. Jackie's sister stands up to hug Meadow, and then introduces her cousin Mackenzie Collucio. Behind Mackenzie, however, Meadow spies Jackie's body lying in its coffin, and she breaks down sobbing. Carmela hustles her back to the seats, and Rosalie turns around to complain about the crappy turnout because of Super Bowl weekend. "What happened, Tony? Vegas moving the line?" Tony makes a gesture to get Thin Guy and his incredibly rude cell phone conversation out of the room, and then Christopher comes over and asks to speak to him outside.
Meanwhile, as the priest is preparing for the service, Janice corners him in his office to deliver her demo tape, saying she wishes she'd "had it for [her] mother's funeral" I guess it couldn't be much worse than the song she actually did play. She also lets him know that "Tommy Mottola at Sony? Looks like he's going to offer us a deal." I can't believe that after everything that's happened this season, they couldn't throw Warner Records one lousy product placement. I mean, that's just harsh.
In another corner of the building, Chris is apologizing for doubting Tony. "I'm only here out of respect to you, but I'm sorry I was mooshada there, and I appreciate that you were looking out for me." He really seems to be pretty heartfelt about the whole thing, adding, "You were close to the kid, I know…" "No, you don't know," responds Tony, and that shuts Christopher up for a moment. "Anyway," he finally stammers, "what I said, about not loving you? That's not how it is." Tony doesn't even give him so much as a nod before turning and walking away. I really have to wonder how someone with such poor people skills managed to get where Tony is today. He treats everyone like crap pretty much all the time (and doubly so when he's accepting an apology), and yet everyone else genuinely seems to like him. Perhaps some things are best left unexplained.
There's a quick shot of Carmela, standing over the casket and contemplating her own son's life, and then we cut to her climbing into bed with Tony. She lovingly drapes herself over him, and then whispers that she's ready to "try it [his] way." Looks like AJ is going to military school after all. Or…is he?
The sit-down. Tony and Silvio are already seated at an outdoor café in what appears to be a warehouse district. Paulie arrives soon after, and expresses surprise that Joey Pants isn't there yet. Then he calls him a name that the MBTV style guide explicitly states I'm not allowed to say, so you'll just have to use your imagination. Or your VCRs. Tony encourages him to sit and relax, and Paulie happily announces that he's just gotten his mom situated at the Green Groves, based on Tony's recommendation. "I never recommended it," Tony replies sourly, but Paulie just goes on and on about how great the "level of care" is and how "it's the most expensive nursing home in the state." Tony grumbles about the price, but Paulie doesn't even care. "You see a seeing-eye dog over here? A cup of pencils? It'll be tough, but I'll figure it out." Not if you have to keep buying a new car every week, you won't. Of course, he doesn't mention that here, either. "It's worth every fucking penny," he concludes. "I'm the hero now, boys." Finally, Joey arrives, only to be berated by Paulie for his belatedness. His retort: "I may be late, but you'll be stupid forever. Also, your mother wears combat boots." Again, not so much on that last part. Paulie jumps up to start scuffling, but Tony eventually manhandles them both into their seats. Joey continues to display the tact and good breeding that we all know and love by adding that he was forced to spend the entire night at his goomah's house because Rosalie's grief was "incessant." I love how these guys are completely and utterly able to disassociate themselves from their own misdeeds. You'd think Melfi would have called Tony on this by now, but I guess not even she knows most of the things he's done. Anyway, with the sit-down under way, Silvio assumes the role of arbitrator and helps both sides push numbers back and forth. The short version is that Paulie thinks he did all the work and deserves half, while Joey thinks that all Paulie did was cough up an alarm code, so he's only entitled to what amounts to a five-percent finder's fee. Joey also manages to point out that he brings in over three million dollars a year from the Esplanade. Tony finally intervenes to say that while five percent is too low, Joey's guys did do all the "heavy lifting." Paulie swears that's not his fault. "Little Paulie [another character I'd like to see] was good to go. Fucking car never came. They left him outside his house like an asshole, in eleven-degree weather." I guess that's worse than being lost in the woods in eleven-degree weather, but apparently that episode never happened, so now we'll never know. Tony thinks it all over, and then names the figure: Twelve thousand. Joey loves it and starts cracking wise, but Paulie can't believe what he's hearing. He begs Tony to reconsider, but Silvio interrupts to explain that all decisions are final. Before he can go any further, Furio appears, calling out that he was forced to park the car around the block. As he approaches the table, however, he slips on pile of ice and goes crashing to the street. While Paulie sits open-mouthed in frustration and I giggle like a little girl, everyone else gets up to go help Furio, thus ending the sit-down.
David Chase: Hey, you know what would make this show better?
George Lucas: Ewoks?
Aaron Sorkin: Latin?
God: Not calling me "feckless"?
Gerald Levin: I don't know, but I do know it ain't the UPN.
Ronald Reagan: I say jellybeans.
Mikhail Gorbachev: Nyet! The proletariat demands vodka!
John F. Kennedy: Come on, guys. It's gotta be strippers and free meat. Or maybe that little hooker thing.
David Chase: Uh, actually I was gonna say continuity, but you know, whatever.
Michael Imperioli: Oh yeah, yours is definitely better.
David Chase: Listen, Chris, you don't have to kiss my ass anymore. You're not getting whacked.
Michael Imperioli: Well, in that case, screw continuity -- I wanna bang Balk season.
Oh, don't we all. Anyway, Fairuza, who's now in character with the big hair and trashy clothes, runs into Adriana in a dress store somewhere. Adriana is looking for something "dressy, but not evening. You know, muted?" Judging by what she considers "muted," I'd hate to see what would happen if her amps went to eleven. Balk suggests a little black number, but Adriana demurs, saying she needs something for a funeral. When Fairuza learns that the dearly departed was only twenty-two, she asks if it was a car accident, only to be told that it was in fact a murder. Now this is where I would have politely ended the conversation and walked away, but unlike our young FBI agent, I'm not getting paid to listen to Adriana babble. Oh, wait. Never mind. "Anyway," she says, "the last time I went to a funeral, my boyfriend bitched me out over what I wore. It was his boss's mother's wake. I said, come on, you think Tony noticed for even one minute what I had on?" Fairuza's eyes light up at the mention of Tony, but she still keeps nodding her head and cracking her gum. As the sales clerk watches them and thinks, "I could so spit on a whore from this balcony," Adriana grasps her heel in pain, causing Fairuza to exclaim, "I'm the same way! I love Blahniks, but they were killing me last night." She suggests that they get a cup of coffee together, and the girls merrily depart the store, chatting about footwear all the while. The only thing I know about shoes is that you're apparently not supposed to wear wingtips with jeans, so despite the fact that the MBTV style guide also has an unwritten rule that I'm not supposed to mention Tomato Nation all that much, on this subject I simply must defer to the master. ["That's goddamn right." -- Sars]
Maison de Soprano. Tony is kicking back on the sofa, watching the Prick Doctor commercial we saw being filmed last week. Tony calls Carmela over to watch, saying that he knows the guy, and while Dr. Fried goes on about increasing both "length" and "girth" (which, after "perseverate," is my second favorite word), Tony jokes, "Imagine, needing an operation like that." Who can guess what comes ? Yep, that's right. Carmela gives him a little look, and he blinks nervously and turns back to the TV. Before he can tell her that Gloria didn't seem to have any complaints, AJ comes trudging down the steps in his cadet uniform. Tony makes a Sergeant Bilko joke, but Carmela just gushes about how handsome he looks. AJ doesn't buy it, so Tony also points out that the dress grays show off his "lats." I used to think the whole "men in uniform" thing was just a tired old cliché, but when I was on the debate team in college, we used to compete against West Point cadets all the time, and the chicks were all over them. And believe me, if it can make a debate geek look sexy, there's definitely got to be something to it. Carmela begs AJ to put his dorky (and oddly phallic) hat on, which he reluctantly does, causing even more gushing. "I look like a total jerk-off," he says, stepping on my "phallic" joke, and when he turns back to them, there are tears rolling down his cheeks. Hey! There's no crying in military school! There is no crying in military school. Whoa, sorry about that. What with the four-hour Band of Brothers trailer that opened the episode, I suddenly seem to be channeling Tom Hanks over here. Anyway, AJ sobs that he doesn't want to go, but Tony tells him he needs "toughening up." AJ rips the hat off his head, and Carmela bends over to hem the pants. After some more swearing from AJ and yelling from Tony, the kid suddenly starts to hyperventilate, and then keels over sideways in a faint.
Jaromir Jagr: Hey, baby. How you doing? I look good in a uniform too, you know.
Madonna: As if. I learned my lesson with Rodman, thank you very much.
God: What about me?
Madonna: Oh, I think just the once was enough.
Cut to Tony, in Melfi's office. "My son has panic attacks," he tells her, and adds that the pediatrician nixed the military school idea. "He's got that putrid, rotten fucking Soprano gene." Melfi tries to console him by describing it as a "slight tic in his fight-or-flight response. It doesn't brand him as anything." Tony gets philosophical and starts telling a story about his great-great-great-grandfather, who used to haul olive oil over the mountains of Italy on his mule. One day he drove right off the road, presumably to his death, and now Tony wonders if it might have been a panic attack. "It comes down through the ages," he sighs. "When you blame your genes, you're really blaming yourself," Melfi tells him, "and that's what we should be talking about." Tony, on the other hand, just wants to blame the school. He gripes about not having been told when AJ passed out at football practice back in "Fortunate Son." "I'm not a litigigigous [sic] person, or whatever the fuck. I prefer to resolve things directly. But this time, I'm gonna sue." "Well, that is your right," replies Melfi, making it pretty clear what she thinks of that little plan. Tony closes his eyes and sniffles a bit, but when Melfi offers him a box of Kleenex, he just shakes his head and says, "You don't understand…we can't send him to that place. How are we going to save this kid?"
Cut to a close-up on the one he couldn't save: Jackie Jr.'s coffin. I'd stick with the Little Lord thing, but I just can't bring myself to speak ill of the dead. Plus it's more typing and this is already the longest. Recap. Ever. I'm shooting for twenty pages, folks. As a collection of random pallbearers carries the casket to the gravesite, we see all the family members emerging from their limousines. Suddenly, we cut to Paulie sprinting through the cemetery. For a moment, I thought Drunk Guy might be chasing him and we were finally going to get a little action. But then we cut to a couple of local law-enforcement types putting the cuffs on Christopher and Silvio. Interesting bit of trivia: Silvio's middle name is "Manford." He also gives them a little lip about needing a big gambling bust every year for the Super Bowl, but they all end up going quietly. For some reason, Tony seems to be the only one exempt from arrest. Maybe Cop Roc got him a "get out of jail free card" or something. Everyone gathers around the grave, and there's a wide shot that shows highway overpasses and train tracks surrounding the cemetery on all sides. It's in stark contrast to the opulence of Livia's ceremony from the premiere. Junior and Bobby are the to arrive, with Junior chewing him out for making them late. But when Bobby spots Silvio being led away by the cops, Junior immediately bolts back to the car and squeals away. Bobby is left to chase after him on foot, screaming, "Junior! Don't leave me!" I will never, EVER be able to do his delivery justice on that line. I mean, what can I say? I'm in awe of him. Tony, however, just shakes his head in dismay at their antics. Back at the gravesite, the priest intones the funeral service, but Rosalie can't handle the grief anymore and starts screaming and wailing. Or maybe the Valium just wore off. Tony and AJ make eye contact, and the unspoken message that this could easily have been him passes between them.
Aprile Abode. Carmela drags a re-tranquilized Rosalie into the house and back to her bedroom. There's some random old guy helping them, and while they head off down the hall, Joey grabs a seat in front of the TV and starts flipping channels. The old guy just stands there behind him, weirdly framed by the hallway door. Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Meadow, Jackie's sister, and Cousin Mackenzie are hitting the alcohol. Mackenzie asks if Jackie was dealing while he and Meadow were dating, but the sister yells at her to shut up. "Please. My brother's whole stupid, pathetic dream was to follow in our father's footsteps. What, I gotta paint a picture? He was killed by some fat fuck in see-through socks." It's interesting that she's totally wrong about the first part (assuming you believe the whole men's fashion bit), but totally right about the second. She then adds, "Take your pick, they all look alike," which is also totally wrong. Trust me when I say that no one will EVER confuse Thin Guy with Wide Guy. It's just not possible. Meadow decides to pipe up and say that the sister really has no basis for saying that it was Mob-related. She goes into full-on, Carmela-style defensive mode: "I know this is a really painful time for you, but your brother's best friend was an Israeli X dealer. I met him…so let's just drop it, okay?" That's interesting, because I always assumed Matush was Russian, but that's okay. Jackie's sister, who's now been identified as Kelli, seems to be spoiling for a fight on the subject: "I mean, if my dad still controlled all the crime in North Jersey like your dad does now, I'd probably want to drop it too. But then, it might not have happened." "This is way beyond," answers Meadow. "Our dads are in the garbage business, and yeah it's always good for a laugh, and yeah they brush up against organized crime, but you think they control every slimeball and illegal gun in like a hundred communities? The fact that you would even say this in front of an outsider is amazing to me. Jesus Christ, some loyalty?" Uh, if Mackenzie is a cousin, she can't really be much of an outsider, can she? And also, wouldn't calling her "an outsider" and asking for loyalty by definition mean that there in fact was something they shouldn't be talking about? I guess I'll just need more temporary expulsion of disbelief, especially in regards to Meadow's motives here. There's any number of interesting possible explanations of them to be found in the forums, so I won't go into a detailed analysis, but I will say that the actress playing Kelli looks remarkably like the actress playing her mother.
Gerald Levin: Hey. How you doing? I've got a couple of free time-slots over on the WB, you know.
Aaron Sorkin: As if. I'm signed with NBC through 2007, buddy. I mean, Jesus Christ. Some loyalty?
MBTV Aaron: What about me?
Gerald Levin: Oh, please. I'd rather have the sleepy guy.
At Vesuvio, everyone is gathering for the wake. Tony comes in and hugs Paulie, who has to leave immediately to be with his mother. Much as he did with Chris earlier in the show, Tony shakes it off and sits down beside Junior, who doesn't share my compunctions about speaking ill of the dead. "The kid was always a dumb fuck, though, wasn't he? Didn't he almost drown in three inches of water?" Tony nods, and adds that it happened at "the penguin exhibit." Another shout-out? I don't know, but I'm giving it twenty StFIC points just to be sure. They bemoan the low turnout, with Junior claiming that if Jackie Sr. were still boss, Vesuvio would be "filled to the rafters. Flower cars up and down the block. No matter what the boy had done." After a long sip of wine, Tony changes the subject to a happier one, that being Junior's recovery and the subsequent end to his house arrest. Junior's glad to be out of the house, but he does admit that he still has the RICO trial coming up. "Fucking illness changed my whole viewpoint," he says. "I'm gonna stop and smell the roses." Thirteen straight weeks of these recaps have left me feeling the exact same way, largely because I haven't been outside since the season started.
Outside, Johnny Sack accosts Paulie on his way to the car. Apparently, despite being the under-boss of the five families, Johnny still has to hide the fact that he smokes from his wife. "Ginny can get pretty heavy," he tells Paulie, and like almost everything else he says in this scene, that one's got a cute little double meaning to it. With barely any prompting at all, Paulie unloads all his problems with Tony and the money for mom's nursing home on Johnny, including the fact that Tony "fundamentally doesn't respect the elderly." Johnny listens like the eager sleaze that he is, blowing smoke up Paulie's ass (and by the way, get the cute little double meaning?) by telling him that Carmine and the other New York bosses ask after him. Paulie, just like his arch-nemesis Joey Pants, offers to do anything he can to help out the New York side of the family. I'm taking bets starting now on whether or not that one actually becomes a storyline in season four. I make it three-to-one against.
In the car, Meadow and Carmela are making their way to Vesuvio. Carmela mentions that Meadow had a few drinks back at the Aprile Abode, but quickly adds that "we all could use it," when Meadow starts looking snotty. Once assured that Carmela wasn't being critical, Meadow looks out the window and says, "I was thinking before, about what you once said. About how you have to max out the good times with the people you love." Carmela reminds her that, "actually, your father said that," and Meadow's face scrunches up at the thought of her hated Mafia father saying something so insightful. Meadow feels that no one in Jackie's family was ever there for him. Rosalie is sweet but not all there, and Jackie Sr. was never around, and she "think[s] it hurt his feelings inside." "I'm glad you see," says Carmela, but Meadow takes it totally the wrong way, and gets (surprise!) snotty about it: "Yeah, right. You're glad I see. What you take from this is an excuse to get intrusive and controlling. That's not what I'm talking about." I don't think it was really what Carmela was talking about either, which is exactly what she says. They argue some more, and what was almost a nice mother-daughter bonding moment goes by the wayside. There was some great acting in the scene, though.
Back at Vesuvio, Tony watches warily as Joey Pants hams it up in front of the entire crowd. Then Janice indulges her Aprile addiction by crawling into his lap and draping herself over him. There's a weird moment where they both look at Tony to see his reaction. I'm not sure which one of them is aggravating him more, though, because just then the boys return from jail and everyone runs up to greet them. It's like they just got back from the war or something. While everyone is hugging, Junior starts singing at one of the tables, and then Carmela arrives to stand beside Tony. Ginny Sack and a couple of others encourage Junior to get up and sing for real, and finally he does. "I beat cancer," he announces, "and now I'm going to beat the can." He launches into the song, and Meadow comes over to her parents to mock him. Carmela notices her with yet another drink, and Meadow sneeringly refers to Uncle Junior as being "shit-faced" without even a hint of irony.
As Junior sings, we get a montage of all the characters. First Chris and Adriana, then Artie and Charmaine, and then, miracle of miracles, Bobby and Furio. That ought to kick the sitcom spin-off speculation into high gear. Meadow and Carmela eye each other warily over their drinks. Silvio and his wife think about how much better the song would sound if Bruce were singing it. Janice cries and realizes she'll never even be as good as Junior (although, to be fair, the guy can sing). I watch, and think that as much as I'm enjoying the quiet way they're closing the season, I still liked this scene better when it was "Brothers In Arms." Also, the first time through, I kept getting distracted by these weird brown blobs that seemed to fly across the screen without any explanation. Just as I was about to get up and check my TV set, we cut to Meadow, and learn that she's been tossing clumps of bread at Junior. Then she breaks out into a Britney Spears song, and runs out of the restaurant with Tony giving chase. Out on the sidewalk, she screams, "This is such bullshit," and then runs right out into the street. The director milks the shot for all the "will she get hit by a car or not?" suspense that he can, but then she makes it safely to the other side and disappears.
Back inside, Tony tells Carmela that she'll be all right, and then they call AJ over to join them. There's more singing, and more montages, and Adriana leans over to ask Mrs. Dante what the song means. "Ungrateful heart," she's told, and then the soundtrack cuts over to a number of different voices performing the same song, all while Junior continues to lip-synch. Everyone cries and looks sad, and we fade out for the last time on a wide shot of the whole Family, gathered together in grief.
Ronald Reagan: This is the way the show ends?
Santa Claus: This is the way the show ends?
Michael Knight: This is the way the show ends?
Michael Imperioli: Well, I for one loved it.
George Lucas: I'm still waiting for the Ewoks.
Gerald Levin: I still can't believe you're making me wait a year to show the season.
David Chase: Since it's not like I haven't made my feelings on arbitrary repetition pretty clear over the past thirteen weeks, I shouldn't even have to say this, but everyone get out. Now.
Everyone: But we don't want to leave. Can't there be more?
David Chase: I'd like it if there were, but writing this stuff for thirteen weeks straight ain't easy, you know. I mean, what are you gonna do?
PS: If you're all good little boys and girls while I'm gone, you might just end up getting your fondest wish: at long last seeing me Six Feet Under. And they say there's a heaven for those who will wait, and some say it's better, but I say it ain't. I'd rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints, because you guys are much more fun.