Babylon 5: Legend of the Rangers: To Live and Die in Starlight

Back in November, I watched the Babylon 5 pilot. Now, seven months later, I have finally watched the most recent Babylon 5 production, the uninspiring TV movie Legend of the Rangers. Worse than Crusade, worse than the other TV movies, this one does some things well that the show didn’t, but is missing practically everything that was good about the show. It’s a better production, more watchable than The Gathering, but it lacks any real artistic motivation. I see no particular reason for this movie to exist.

I’ll start with what’s good about the production. The effects and visual style are much stronger than what was in the series. The effects were rarely a huge concern for me, once you get into the show’s universe, you just accept that this is what the world looks like and there’s nothing we can do about it. Here, the effects look pretty good, though they still don’t have the realism of a Battlestar Galactica.

A bigger improvement is the visual style. The ship doesn’t look as much like a set and the camera has more energy. The aliens generally look more believable, not just a bunch of masks that were sitting around, and the alien guy with the weird hair was quite cool looking. The director was Mike Vejar, who did a bunch of B5 episodes, and he raised his game here. It’s a moody, atmospheric film. I would have loved to see this level of visual urgency on Babylon 5. The series generally looked almost like a theater prouction, with actors standing on what were clearly sets, this makes it more like real life.

On top of that, this episode is a much more traditionally engaging pilot than The Gathering. That episode was practically unwatchable due to the absurdly bad acting of much of the main cast. Those characters felt like they were written by someone who’d never actually seen humans behave. The characters on this show still don’t feel real, but rather than seeming completely inexplicable, they seem like they were written by someone who’s seen a lot of TV shows. They feel like characters, and at least that’s an improvement over feeling like actors standing on a stage, reading off cue cards. But, they are still far from feeling like real people.

And then gets to the central problem with the work. As the pilot for a TV series, you don’t expect to get to know everyone in depth, but these characters are so undeveloped we have to have a scene where they literally say their name and a vague line about their purpose. But, when you’ve got ten of these in a row, you don’t really remember them. I couldn’t tell you much about the characters from this show and I watched it yesterday. They weren’t memorable at all, and none of the actors brought the intensity that Peter Jurasik or Andreas Katsulas did to The Gathering.

The captain is perhaps the most generic captain character I’ve seen. He dislikes authority, always does his own thing, and oversees a ragtag crew on an old ship that no one else likes, but he has affection for. Am I talking about Han Solo, Mal from Serenity, Jet from Cowboy Bebop or David Martell from this show. He’s the same archetype as Sheridan as well, and like almost all JMS human characters, his only real flaw is that he cares too much about his people and is willing to go off the book. I’d like to see JMS write a really troubled human character, like Londo or G’Kar, because it’s only when we know that someone has the capacity to do bad that we care when they do good. That was the problem with the original series, with Crusade and now with this, the characters have nowhere to go arc wise. If they are already what they want to be, the only problems come from outside, and that’s not as compelling as internal conflict.

The rest of the characters don’t really jump out at you. Now, that’s always going to be an issue with pilot, but this one is 90 minutes, and really, you should care about someone. If the show ended with the ship exploding and everyone dying, I’d probably just be like, oh well, what can you do? JMS’s greatest strength is the way he develops massive plots that affect an entire universe. Watching an episode like “The Fall of Centauri Prime,” it’s profoundly sad because you can feel the weight of an entire universe dooming Londo to his imprisonment with the Drakh. Maybe in three years, someone here would reach that point, but generally speaking, people aren’t going to wait that long for payoffs. It astonishes me that Babylon 5 stayed on the air to even reach that point. I know I wouldn’t have made it through the first episode, let alone the first season if I didn’t have people assuring me it would get great.

In today’s TV world, I don’t think you have the luxury of time that 90s creators did. Shows like Seinfeld and The X-Files took a couple of seasons to find their voice, but when shows like The Sopranos and Six Feet Under are brilliant right out of the gate, it’s a lot harder to get the benefit of the doubt from the audience. And this show does nothing to earn that benefit of the doubt.

It surprises me that JMS would again run away from the greatest strength B5 could bring to a spinoff, its characters. It was great to see G’Kar again, even if he got nothing to do but make some lame jokes and deliver some exposition. The character has so much residual affection that the show picked up any time he was on screen, even though he has virtually nothing to do with the show. Would he even have been a regular? I don’t know, presumably not, but it would have been much worse without him.

But, if you’re doing a show with rangers, why not have Lennier on the ship? We never found out what happened to him and this would be a chance to explore that. If you’re going after new viewers, you could present him as just a troubled older ranger. Just putting a character in the show is about as much development as any of these others got. That’s such an obvious inclusion, and would have really helped get fans hooked on the show, I don’t see why JMS didn’t do it. While I was intrigued by the brief mention of Lyta, who’s gone now, this was so peripheral, the use of Babylon 5 seemed like a cashin.

This show barely even seemed to take place in the B5 universe. Minbari looked very different from what we’d seen, and this just didn’t jive with what we’d seen in Crusade. It makes no sense to undermine the central conflict of the show, the Shadow War, by presenting this new foe who claim to be so much tougher than the Shadows. Either those guys are lying, or JMS has completely screwed up continuity by inventing a major foe who never are mentioned in any of the other post series stories. It makes no sense.

So, let’s say they’re trying to reinvent the universe, cater to a new audience. Then why do they end the show with a trip to Babylon 5, without explaining the significance of the station. This is clearly meant to be a big dramatic moment, but if you were watching the show for the first time, it wouldn’t work at all. That implies that the show is targeted at previous viewers. But, in that case, why not really cater to them and give us more classic characters and not screw with the Shadow mythology.

While I liked the shooting style, I think the ship was quite poorly designed. It feels like a submarine, and the constant darkness makes the show feel claustrophobic. I’d have liked to see at least a couple of windows. The Excalibur was a much better looking vessel. I actually liked the first time they did the virtual reality weapons thing, the second montage was just overwhelmingly goofy, with her over the top expressions revealing the underlying goofiness of what was going on.

Ultimately, it was a watchable film. Everything was put together competently and the story flowed in a logical way. It felt very much like a pilot made to satisfy a network, full of action and attitude having younger characters. JMS seems to have abandoned everything that worked about B5, in favor of basically making the show TNT wanted from Crusade. There’s no intellectual subtext to anything here, it’s just straight up action and I see no future here. It’s better than a lot of first season episodes in terms of enjoyment, but it’s also completely superfluous and lacking in any kind of substance.

And from the point of view of developing the universe, it gives nothing really notable to the fans. I think the Lost Tales project is a much smarter way to do things. I don’t really need another series, but I’d love another hour with Londo, Lyta and others. So, it’s probably for the best this didn’t go to the series, and instead the universe got the chance for a new reboot.

Perhaps the greatest tragedy is that this is the final appearance for G’Kar. I feel like the greatest piece of the story that’s not yet told is how G’Kar got to the point where he killed Londo and the keeper. I imagine him and Vir as part of a small rebel organization fighting to liberate Centauri Prime once he finds out what happened with Londo. Their relationship was what made the series great, and it would have been incredible to see G’Kar finally realize why his friend has changed and go back to the planet to save him in the only way he could. I wish JMS had covered that in one of the TV movies or instead of one of the countless goodbye episodes at the end of the show. And now that Andreas is gone, we’ll never see it.

I’d be curious to see some interviews with JMS about the goals behind this project, and where it would have gone in the future of the possible series. All I can find is one anecdote where he talks about how a Colts/Patriots playoff game caused the show’s ratings to fall below expectations. But, this feels like such an odd, troubled project, I can’t imagine what was going on with him that led to its creation.

Well, it’s been a long journey, and it’s not over yet. I’m now caught up and ready for the Lost Tales film. I have to say, Sheridan is probably the character I’m least interested in following up on, we know everything about him. But, hopefully this will succeed and lead not only to a wide ranging series of B5 films, but also similar projects for other series, like, perhaps, just maybe, Buffy. B5 changed sci-fi TV with its introduction of long form arc based storytelling. Maybe it will change things again by opening direct to DVD as a legitimate vehicle for continuing cult series.

John From Cincinnati: 'His Visit: Day Two' (1x02)

After an intriguing, but not entirely conclusive first episode, John From Cincinnati comes into its own with a mesmerizing second episode. I can think of very few series that have had me hooked as much as this one does at this point. Much like Six Feet Under, this one just feels special, it’s a unique world that I want to learn more about and I really can’t wait to see what they come up with next week. But first, let’s review what went down this week.

I’m still a bit baffled about how baffled some people are by the series. There’s some mysterious elements, but also a strong central narrative that anchors us emotionally. The major issue this episode is the merits and problems with the mysterious promoters. Cass tries to lure Mitch into a starring role in her documentary film, but there’s some kind of larger agenda involving her and Linc. Thematically, we’re addressing the troubles with commercialization. Mitch still loves to surf, he’s out every morning, but he doesn’t want to be a part of the surfing machine that has grown up around the sport. He sees what it has done to Butchie and hopes to save Shaun from the same fate.

I’ve only seen a couple of episodes of Deadwood, but that show was interested in the way a society is formed out of chaos. Here, we’re looking at people in an almost apocalyptic world. Whenever they’re away from the water, the color is almost overwhelmingly yellow, an oppressive sun you can feel through the screen. This is a world slightly removed from traditional reality and authority, and the promoters are working to spoil the edenic life Mitch has built for Shaun and his family.

Concurrent with this, we’ve got more stuff with John. It’s still unclear what his exact nature is, but it’s a lot of fun to watch him mimic the actions of those around him and play at being human. The scene in the bathroom at the hospital is particularly cool, as he makes sound effects to mimic what’s going on around him. In this episode, he seemed a bit less like a prophet and a bit more like a mentally challenged person, but there’s clearly something larger going on here.

The earthquake, which leads into Shaun’s accident works in the same way that the earthquake in Altman’s Short Cuts does, giving us a major incident that unites all the disparate plot lines. We see the people at the hotel, the Yosts at the ocean and Bill in his apartment, all wondering what’s going on. It’s easy for a show to get splintered into a bunch of little shows, with no overall unifying direction, so this works well to give things a unity and singular sense of purpose.

Shaun’s accident also serves this purpose, and it was a pretty shocking development. The scene with Mitch, Cissy and the Doctor is the first moment when the characters felt emotionally real. On the best shows, the characters take on a life of their own and begin to write themselves. Joss Whedon talked a lot about this, how in a longform narrative, the characters determine their own destiny. On shows that don’t quite work, you always feel the writer’s hand, manipulating characters to fulfill specific plot points. On great shows, you don’t even think about the writer, everything that happens feels like an inevitability. Last episode, there was a lot of quirkiness in the characters, and that always makes you feel the writer’s hand. It can still be cool, but it’s not going to feel emotionally real.

Shaun’s accident is an artificially imposed incident, but it puts the characters in a very real emotional moment, and through their reactions, we can understand a lot about them. It’s notable that a lot of successful shows begin with a traumatic event. When we see Nate Fisher on Six Feet Under reacting to his father’s death, we see him stripped raw, and then can better recognize the layers of personality that he puts on to deal with others. Ultimately, the best shows are ones where you can tell when characters lie because you know them so well that you can understand why they lie and what they’re hiding. I’m not saying this show is there yet, but the hospital scenes do give us great insight into the characters and bring them closer to that point of taking on their own life.

The episode ends with Bill bringing the bird into the operating room, drawing Shaun back to life. It’s an incredible moment full of a deep, mystical power. The show has a weird vibe and there was real magic in that moment, the sense of something much larger than the characters falling into place. The cut to TV on the Radio’s “Staring at the Sun” for the closing credits did a great job of sustaining that mood.

That scene, combined with John’s odd muttering all built up a lot of mystery and possibility for next week. I really loved this episode, it took the potential of the first episode and transformed into a legitimately great hour of TV. And next week looks even better. One line from the preview had me particularly interested, John saying “Kai, see God.” This show has that same unique feel that Twin Peaks did, and I don’t think I’ve seen on TV since. It’s not forced quirk, it’s an askew worldview that creates a world of mystery and wonder to journey to each week. This show is fantastic, and I hope it gets a chance to build the fanbase it deserves.

All Star Superman #6: 'Funeral in Smallville'

The first TPB comes to a close with an issue that’s fairly schizophrenic, bouncing between the emotion of Pa Kent’s death and the bizarreness of the Superman Squad. Much of the series has been about that balance, simultaneously embracing the Silver Age wackiness and more grounded, realistic emotion. But, this issue doesn’t quite pull it together as well the others. There’s moments here that are as strong as anything in the series, but it doesn’t quite cohere into a cohesive whole.

The opening few pages of the issue are probably the most unqualified success. You simultaneously experience the Superman and Clark parts of his personality. He’s still reverent towards his father, embarrassed when he tells the story about how he crash landed on Earth. But, once he gets to use his powers, he’s having fun again, chasing Krypto up into space.

The best thing about the space stuff is how much fun Clark is clearly having. While I do love the angsty superhero soap opera of something like X-Men or Buffy, all that worrying frequently obscures the basic joy of being able to do something that other people can’t. Superman doesn’t go to the park to play fetch with hi dog, he goes to the stars and rests on the moon.

Superman has that classic hero’s journey arc. Much like Luke Skywalker, he has to leave the family farm and go off into the big city. Unlike Luke Skywalker, his home wasn’t destroyed, so he can return back and imagine what could have been. Did he make the right choice in going to Metropolis and becoming a hero, or would it have been better to just say home and work on the farm. One of the strong things about the issue is that it makes it feel like a legitimate conundrum. Sitting in the diner with Lana, it seems like he would gladly stay there forever.

However, adventure calls and in a funny panel, Lana claims that he must be Superman. This is the opposite of what Lois Lane says, she is unable to believe that Clark could be Superman even after he says he is. Lana knows that Clark is. I’m not that familiar with Lana’s place in the Superman mythos, but just judging from this issue, she’d have known him growing up and would be more aware of how he felt developing the powers. So, she’d notice when Clark started acting weird, acting like Superman.

Superman then meets the Superman Squad. This is a concept that cropped up in Morrison’s JLA: One Million, which, if I recall correctly, also featured the Unknown Superman and Kal Kent. The Superman Squad is a cool concept for JLA, since that was a universe full of superpowered characters. However, here in All Star, I always got the impression that Superman was the only superhero. He does mention Batman, but we never see anyone else, and I feel like it undermines his specialness to have three other Supermen around.

The Chronovore is a cool concept, right in line with a lot of Morrison ideas. The idea that he turns “Farmer Stone’s cows into the hamburgers they were destined to become” is great, very Invisibles. But, the 5-D Superman is just annoying. So, it’s not all good.

What I like about the issue is the way it shows how far Superman has to go. He recklessly rushes in to show up Kal Kent and in the process misses his father’s final moments. One of the best panels is Superman rushing across the grass, screaming “I can save him! I can save everybody!” That sounds a bit like Anakin Skywalker, the hubris of the young hero with near unlimited power.

I suppose the thematic reason for combining the story of the Unknown Supermen with the death of Pa Kent was to force Superman to confront forces larger than him, and to grow up in the process. At the beginning of the issue, he’s happily bounding through the sky and meeting with childhood friends. By the end, he’s been shown up by the Superman Squad and also been rocked by death for the first time. He can’t save everyone and he recognizes that in the funeral scene.

I love the speech that Clark gives there, it’s exactly the sort of thing that Superman would say. However, this again positions Clark as a young man, I felt like he was older in the first issues of the series. The Superman who was faced with mortality in issue one felt more middle aged than this guy who seems barely into his twenties. I suppose he puts on a more mature approach as Superman, but reverts to a younger mentality when he’s back home.

The issue ends on a curious note, as we find out that the Unknown Superman is actually Clark himself. It’s interesting that the 5-D Superman says it took Jonathan Kent’s death to ensure that Superman left Smallville and moved out to the big city. He flirted with staying a child, but realized that he does have to grow up, and become something new.

The issue is quite ambitious, mixing a lot of elements. I think I see better now what Grant was trying to do, but it’s still tough to fit all these things together into a cohesive whole. I would have toned down the oddness of the Superman Squad a bit, but I think it works as a glimpse into Superman’s future. This is his legacy, but it’s also Jonathan Kent’s legacy, and Jonathan wouldn’t have wanted Clark to stay home. That’s why he hired help on the farm, he knew Clark was destined for something bigger and needed a little push out into the bigger world.

When the series first started, there was a strict division between Clark and Superman. It was represented in their physical appearance and characterization. I felt like Superman was the real guy and Clark was just a disguise. But, as the series has gone on, the line has blurred to the point that they’ve become one interdependent entity. The first issues presented a really iconic, chill Superman, but as they’ve gone on, we’ve gotten a bit more character development. I think he’s still true to the Superman that Morrison met, but his possible death has forced him to reassess things a bit.

I’m probably going to start following the series in singles, since the individual issues are essentially self contained and satisfying enough to bridge the gap between publication. So, I’ll be getting issue seven next time I’m at the comic store, then it’s time to wait for things to get rolling. In the meantime, I’ve been reading the first trade of 52, a review’s coming soon, but the quick summation is surprisingly good, and inexplicably addictive. It’s like the methadone to Seven Soldiers’ heroin.

Why HBO Needs Preacher

While I thoroughly enjoyed the first episode of John From Cincinnati, I think it’s also pretty clear that this show isn’t going to become HBO’s next big smash. The channel has a reputation as the home of quality shows, and I think it consistently delivers stuff that you just could not see on a broadcast network. Regardless of the premise, I’m willing to give any HBO show a chance because I’ve had such good experiences with them in the past. But, it’s no secret that they’re at something of a crossroads following the cancellation of The Sopranos. But, there is one show they have in development that could provide everything they’d need for another breakthrough hit, and that is Preacher.

When I first heard that HBO was developing a Preacher series, I was happy, but a bit confused as well. It’s one of those dream projects I’d thrown around in my head, but never actually expected to see come to fruition. A few days ago, I saw a video interview with Garth Ennis where he said the project was moving forward, it just needed HBO’s approval to go to pilot. Hearing that, I realized that Preacher is exactly the show that HBO needs to make, and they’d be fools not to put this show into action. They wouldn’t be doing it for the comics community, they’d be doing it for themselves.

The Sopranos was a huge hit for a number of reasons, but what separated it from virtually every other HBO series was that it’s simultaneously elitist and fully accessible. Thinking of the show’s audience, the hyper intelligent urban elite can co-exist with working class guys who idolize Tony and his crew. This was one of the central issues Chase had to deal with, that a section of his audience pretty much wanted to be Tony, while he thought of the audience as Doctor Melfi and her social circle. Chase may have had issues with the whack ‘em all segment of the viewing public, but it’s precisely that group of people that made the show a hit far beyond the elite that is HBO’s normal target audience. And don’t think they’re not all about the elite, they proudly boast the tagline “It’s not TV, It’s HBO.”

A lot of what made The Sopranos a success was its controversial elements. The violence had people talking, and ultimately, that’s what makes a show a success. HBO’s business model pretty much relies on a show becoming watercooler fodder. Networks offer people shows for free and still struggle to get viewers. HBO doesn’t get the sampling that networks have, their shows have to be must see. The Sopranos was a cultural phenomenon, I didn’t even like to go on the internet until I’d seen the latest episode that aired, it was what people talked about, and consequently, helped to build the HBO brand.

While I like most of the shows they have, I think HBO made a bunch of mistakes in its recent programming choices. A show like Big Love is good, but isn’t as far beyond network TV as something like The Sopranos or Six Feet Under. The polygamy stuff attracted some initial press, but it’s not the kind of show where you’re going to be aghast upon hearing what happened on the latest Big Love. Now, a show doesn’t need to be that kind of show to work. Six Feet Under usually wasn’t, but SFU was also just so good that it became must see by virtue of our attachment to the characters.

The thing that a lot of recent HBO shows are lacking is that character attachment. Carnivale, Rome and Big Love just don’t allow for the same kind of engagement as a Six Feet Under or The Sopranos. I think a big part of this is the fact that they’re set in worlds that aren’t familiar to us. The Sopranos had elements of this, but also had ordinary suburbia to anchor the mob stories. On TV, it’s harder to pull off a long term story in a world that isn’t our own. TV is all about engagement with the characters, so unless it’s a massive singular narrative like Babylon 5, it’s tough to engage with the goings on. I respect them for making shows that are so ambitious and different, but it also makes it tough to become hooked on them. The best TV shows are addictive, you don’t want to respect a show, you want to need a show, and I never really needed to see the next Carnivale or Big Love.

The Sopranos and Six Feet Under are both very sophisticated character dramas, a genre that TV can do better than any other. They both have overarching narrative arcs, but also enjoyable in each moment along the way. I fear that shows like John From Cincinnati and Carnivale fail because they rely too much on mystery instead of character substance. I like mysteries, but a lot of viewers don’t have the patience for anything but certain fact. And, mystery should exist as the hook to get us into the characters’ world, not the substance of the entire show.

So, what HBO needs is a show that would be controversial, provoke discussion, and be different from network TV, but at the same time provide us with compelling character arcs in a relatable setting. Preacher would do all this, be the exact kind of show that they need right now. Reading Preacher, I was hooked by the over the top violence and grotesquerie, but what kept me coming back was the story of Jesse and Tulip, as well as the development of their relationship with Cassidy. The series has a strong character hook that will make viewers need to see the next episode once they get started. There are very few works that are just as compulsively readable as Preacher. I remember sitting down and reading entire trades in one sitting, it hits that perfect addictive place. When I started watching Buffy, the closest thing I could compare it to was reading Preacher.

The other thing Preacher has is a lot of controversial material. There’s going to be a lot of articles asking whether this show goes too far, in both the level of its violence and its not exactly reverential take on religion. There’s going to protests, there’s going to be debate, and all that is good for ratings. People will know this show is debuting and that’s half the battle. Plus, you’ve got the entire comic series fanbase who will be likely to tune in and give the show heavy internet support. Plus, the violence and sex would be something a network show couldn’t do.

The one potential issue I see with the show is its appeal to both women and the liberal elite audience that makes up a lot of the channel’s audience. The beauty of The Sopranos was that it offered really strong female stories, and the female hook to capture the female audience. Tulip is a strong female protagonist, and her relationship with Jesse would surely inspire some fanfic, but the stereotypical female viewer would likely be put off by both the ridiculous amount of violence and the macho posturing in the series. That essentially conservative attitude would also be troubling for much of the audience. But, I think it’s better to push people than just give them something that gets no reaction.

So, I think HBO needs to get Preacher in production stat. It’s the kind of show that will have people talking, and the built in comic book appeal will give it an immediate boost. If this show is a huge success, it could lead to more Vertigo based TV shows. I’d love to see a Sandman series, and in particular, an Invisibles series, preferably with me as the show runner on that one. Hopefully Alan Ball’s True Blood won’t preclude HBO from greenlighting another show with vampire content.

All Star Superman #5: 'The Gospel According to Lex Luthor'

Morrison continues his journey through the Superman mythos with a stop at Lex Luthor, who lectures Clark Kent on the nature of Superman. This issue is notable for not featuring Superman at all, which turns him into more of an idea than an individual. Much of the series’ thematic focus has been on exploring that concept, Superman as an icon, but by focusing things through Lex’s point of view, we get an entirely different notion of the man of steel.

One of the most fun things about this issue is watching Clark Kent struggle to solve problems without revealing he’s Superman. As I’ve said before, Morrison and Quitely have created such a brilliant dichotomy between Superman and the front he puts on as Clark Kent that you can legitimately believe that Luthor wouldn’t know that the man standing right in front of him is actually Superman. A lot of it is Quitely’s art, which gives Clark this awkward slump, a big contrast to Superman’s shoulder back, chest out pride.

In a lot of circles, the Kill Bill Volume II speech about how Superman is the real person and Clark Kent is the disguise has become taken as fact, and you could certainly see things that way in the series. Watching Clark go about, you can feel he’s uncomfortable in his own skin, but as Superman, he’s totally in control. But, I think it’s more than simply him really being Superman and playing this role of the goofy human. I think Morrison’s understanding of the character is informed by the idea that both sides of the personality are equally valid. He is the last son of Krypton, sent to save Earth, but he’s also a Kansas farmboy who finds himself out of place in the big city.

Now, one could argue that that lack of confidence is part of the persona, but I think it reveals the underlying uncertainty that Clark/Superman has about his place in the world. As Superman, he’s in his element, saving people and not having to worry about individual interaction. But, in Clark, we can see all his insecurities made manifest. The iconic image of the first cover shows Superman calmly observing the world from above, when he’s down in the mess, things aren’t so serene.

Luthor raises the question of what the world would be like without Superman. As a reader in a world without Superman, we have to think of our own world, one where people are pretty much content to accept that this is all there is. We’ve already seen how Superman has inspired people like Leo Quintum to invent new things and try to bring all humanity to the level of Superman. For him, Superman is a model to aspire to.

In Luthor, we see the reverse of that, what would happen if a man could work all his life to be his best, both physically and mentally, but still be unable to match up to Superman. That would be incredibly frustrating, and this issue does a good job of conveying that frustration. There’s some irony in Luthor telling Clark that he could never have Lois as long as Superman’s around, but it also hits home in some ways. This is coming after Lois was completely unable to believe that Superman was also Clark. She doesn’t want to acknowledge that the all powerful model human could have the weakness of a Clark Kent in him. He can’t even compete with himself, so how are others expected to match him?

Luthor talks about turning the prison into an alternative society, one where Superman is absent. The notion of building a society in miniature is something Morrison has done a lot, in the Petri dish world and Libertania in The Filth, as well as the robot dome in Manhattan Guardian #2. It’s not really developed here, but I’m assuming we’ll return to the prison at some point later in the series, and see how Luthor’s plans pay off. This issue, more than any of the previous ones, feels like it’s setting up elements in a larger arc. There’s a payoff on the threat, but I really hope we return to what Luthor is working on down the line.

Using The Parasite as a foe here is great because it puts Clark in legitimate danger. How can he stop The Parasite without revealing himself as Superman. We again see Clark use his goofiness as a weapon, as well as Luthor’s calculating skill as a warrior.

I’m not sure if the baboon in the Superman suit has a larger significance, or is just a goofy, funny image. There could be some connection to evolution, the idea that this baboon is to humanity what humanity is to Superman. It also works as a way of Luthor showing how control he is, even in prison, he can do anything he wants.

Luthor’s ending speech is fantastic, largely because of the drawn on eyebrow. This such a goofy, funny touch, and yet it also gives him some menace in that final panel. I don’t think it’s coincidental that the eyebrow gives him the look of Quimper. It’s interesting to see Clark first try to reach out to Luthor, then get angry when he refuses. This is the human part of Superman, the bafflement at dealing with a foe who just might be one step ahead of him. And, down here, Clark is unable to reveal his real power to Luthor. Luthor tells Clark that Superman is dying, a message to bring to the world. Will Clark reveal this?

Luthor says if Superman wasn’t around, he’d be ruling the planet. It’s tough to be second best, that seems to be Luthor’s primary motivation in battling Superman. He can’t handle the competition. It’s a distinctly human motivation, this inability to accept that someone better than you is out there.

Luthor hands Clark off to his apprentice, who one day hopes to rule the world. It’s great that she’s dressed as a dominatrix, rowing through a river of what’s apparently lava in a cave to bring Luthor stuff. What can I say, it works for me.

So, this issue really sets up the stakes for the rest of the series. Luthor may be one step ahead of Superman, and as Clark Kent, he’s powerless to do anything about it. Of course, now he knows more about Luthor, and can likely use this knowledge to eventually defeat him. But, for now, the future looks uncertain.

I still miss Lois, but this issue was great. Quitely and Morrison create such a demanding, visual comic. It’s great to read a work that really uses the medium of comics, this isn’t experimental in the way that an Alan Moore work is, but it’s as profound a redefinition of what the medium can do. I feel like Morrison and Quitely just raise the bar for what a comic can be, and I’m glad to follow along as they do this.

All Star Superman #4: 'The Superman/Jimmy Olsen War"

“The Superman/Jimmy Olsen War” is the weakest issue of the series yet, but it’s still fun and stylish in the way that only Morrison and Quitely can deliver. What’s hooked me on the series is the relationship between Superman and Lois, so it’s a bit disappointing to leave them for an issue to focus on Jimmy. But, getting past that, there’s plenty of good stuff here.

One of the notable things about this issue, and the series in general, is how well Morrison uses the twenty-two page comic format. Most writers today structure things in six part arcs that are “written for the trade.” Now, I read almost all my books in trade and I have to say it’s perhaps even less satisfying to wait six months to read a story then get less than the equivalent of a single TV episode. Grant manages to fit a whole story into twenty-two pages and provide a satisfying emotional and visual experience. In a lot of ways, I think structuring for the single helps discipline his writing. Both this and Seven Soldiers are marvels, each issue complex and worthy of seemingly endless analysis.

The opening page has the great gag with Jimmy dressing as a woman, and all the previous setup is worth it for that. I like how Leo Quintum is the best dressed man in Metropolis, I too could not ignore the coolness of his Technicolor dream coat. Quitely stocks Jimmy’s apartment with all kinds of fun stuff, including an odd portrait of him dressed as a cyborg turtle. I’m sure there’s some story behind that, and Grant could probably tell it to you if you asked him.

Jimmy’s tour around the P.R.O.J.E.C.T labs has some fun stuff, but things don’t really get going until he falls into the pit of pink liquid. The scene with Clark running out of Perry’s office, turning into Superman as he goes, is fantastic. Grant and Quitely do a great job of selling the difference between the two of them, such that what was once an absurd narrative problem because one of the series’ greatest assets. It’s a lot of fun to watch Clark change into Superman when he finds out he’s needed.

It’s hard to watch Superman turn evil under the influence of the black kryptonite. As I’ve discussed earlier, Morrison’s Superman is an incarnation of absolute good, and it’s hard to watch him spiral down into evil. Superman struggles to deal with it, and in the process, raising the question of what they could do if Superman did turn evil. The last ditch option is to kill him, but first, we get Jimmy transforming into Doomsday.

Their fight is well executed, particularly the moment where dark Superman is crippled by his fear of death. Here, we see the feelings that regular Superman would never be able to show. He’s aware of his role as a symbol of what humanity can be, he can’t allow himself to succumb to this weakness. But, his opposite can, crying that he can’t die because he’s Superman. I particularly like the idea that Black K Superman becomes weaker the worse he acted. That implies that regular Superman because more powerful when he does good.

And, in the end, Jimmy uses Quintum’s resources to win over the heart of Lucy, impressing her with his tickets and a message on the moon. It’s a great finale, a really sweet moment for the issue’s hero. Quitely’s Lucy looks like she belongs to a different Quitely book, a bit more realist, but it still looks good and that final panel of her is great.

So, this wasn’t the most emotional or thematically dense issue, but it’s still a lot of fun. Now, I’m eager to check out the Clark Kent issue and see what happens to him and Luthor in prison.

Confusions of an Unmarried Couple

Confusions of an Unmarried Couple is a snappy indie film made by the Butler brothers, who split writing, directing, editing, cinematographing and starring duties between them. The film is structured around a lengthy conversation between Dan and Lisa, a couple that were engaged until he walked in on her with another woman. It’s full of crackling, funny dialogue and fairly insightful observations about people and relationships.

I’m sure the filmmakers have heard this from countless viewers, but the film fits in the same stylistic and thematic universe as early 90s indies like Richard Linklater’s work and, in particular, Kevin Smith. From Linklater we’ve got the dialogue based film, echoing something like Before Sunset. The Butlers clearly love the way people talk and take great pleasure in crafting literate, but profane banter for the two lead characters. In that respect, there’s a lot of Kevin Smith in here. He’s become the target of a lot of haters, and certainly his recent films have their flaws, but I still really like Clerks and love Chasing Amy. Confusions exists in the same universe as these films, and is perhaps even more professional looking and certainly better acted than Clerks.

The film centers almost exclusively on a real time conversation between Dan and Lisa, which is occasionally interrupted by talking head video of Dan and Lisa reflecting on the relationship. The talking head segments keep things from getting tedious, it’s not easy to keep an audience interested when your film has only one setting and two characters, but the fairly consistent hit ratio on jokes made it work. The film uses slightly stylized dialogue, the characters speaking the way we’d all want to speak, in witty, literate sentences, rather than the halting, um interrupted way that most of us actually speak. I like this kind of dialogue, it helps to keep things a bit lighter.

The film works best when it remains in an emotionally real universe, and allows the characters to go to a darker place. Dan vacillates between likeability and douchebaggery in a way that makes us understand why she could like him, but also sympathize when she rejects him. In the way that a lot of male filmmakers do, our point of view character is the male, we understand what he’s doing, but Lisa remains more enigmatic. She seems like an artsy person with larger concerns, why was she attracted to Dan in the first place? The film does a good job of showing how he can be charming at moments, and that the two of them can work well together. Because we’re coming in after the relationship is over, the two of them focus on the bad times, but there’s still that rapport and connection that draws them together.

Not to dwell on Smith, but the emotional arc of their relationship is reminiscent of Chasing Amy, with a less experienced male letting his insecurity destroy the relationship. It’s a relatable arc, and I think it works here by giving Dan a motivation for some of his hurtful moments. Not that Lisa is devoid of negative characteristics, there’s a balance in the relationship, but I feel like we’re given less access to her internal motivations, or perhaps they’re just less relatable to me. Either way, the characters work fairly well.

While I liked the dialogue, I had an issue with the way it was filmed. A lot of the scenes were shot in lengthy singles, with the camera panning from character to character as they spoke. The problem is, the characters would always pause as the camera panned, then start when it was on them. This made things feel a bit unnatural. It would have been better to keep the conversation flowing naturally and just catch up as they panned. There’s not that much to do with this film visually, but there are some interesting shots, the final scene is really well staged, definitely the visual highlight of the film.

In terms of acting, the film’s got its on and off moments. Naomi Johnson, who plays Lisa, is great in the talking head scenes, but not as believable in the real world scenes. Brett Butler as Dan is really funny, but not always believable on an emotional level.

But, ultimately, the film has enough to entertain. I love snappy banter, and this film provides that in spades. There’s a lot of really funny stuff here, and also a believable emotional story. That’s more than you’ll get out of virtually all Hollywood comedies. It’s a bit reductive to say, if you enjoy Kevin Smith movies, you’ll enjoy this, but really, that’s the best thing I can say. It’s that same style and the same satisfaction.

IMDB
Substance Productions

John From Cincinnati: 'His Visit: Day One' (1x01)

After coming home from college, I subscribed to HBO. The primary reason for this was the need to see the last episode of The Sopranos as it aired, in a controlled environment. But, the channel has consistently produced the most challenging, exciting shows on TV, so I’m keeping the subscription even after the departure of its signature show, and that means I get the chance to check out their new shows, the most prominent of which is John From Cincinnati, a drama about three generations in a family of surfers and a mysterious visitor who intervenes in their lives.

Most reviews have focused on the show’s impenetrability, presenting it as a baffling, enigmatic narrative that’s hard to latch on to. Certainly there are odd pieces, but I think there’s a fairly standard hook for viewers. Like a lot of HBO shows, this is a family drama with a twist. The twist is a bit less obvious than a family that’s in the mob of a family that runs a funeral home, but it’s the same basic structure. The Yosts are a bit more abrasive than the Fishers, but we’ve got that same basic structure of a family divided that has to learn to live together.

But, the twist is unclear. John is a mysterious character, but I’ve got no problem with not understanding who or what he is just yet. There’s nothing wrong with mystery and I don’t think we need to find out soon. He is the catalyst that sets the series into motion and I’m sure his true nature will become apparent in time. For now, he provides a mix of humor and prophecy, implying that the show is part of some larger cosmic narrative. The supernatural events, Mitch’s levitation, the resurrected bird all portend something spiritual and important down the line.

In its odd events and supernatural periphery, the show resembles Carnivale, and I fear this show will follow that show’s journey to an early cancellation. I think people like supernatural stuff, but aren’t comfortable with real ambiguity. Look at the way people view Lost, constantly wanting answers, ignoring the fact that it’s the mystery that is most intriguing, the unknown, not any answers. Part of the reason for this is that any answer is arbitrary, the creation of writers who may or may not have even intended anything concrete at the beginning. David Milch might have just thought it was cool to have a guy levitating, so he threw it in there. As writers, the story tells itself, and in the best shows, the characters take on a life of their own and guide the narrative. Trying to artificially impose answers on mysteries can destroy what makes a show special.

But, the supernatural elements aren’t the core of this show. I like the way they’re placed into an otherwise very real environment. The show is primarily about the family’s struggle to reunite. I like Mitch and Bill, but many of the characters aren’t quite fully realized yet. It’s obviously early, but I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to feel for these characters in the way I do for the people on Buffy and Six Feet Under. Those characters were flawed, but they felt a bit more open than these do. It’s a very abrasive bunch, a colder attitude that on those shows.

But, it’ll take another episode to see how everything fits together. What does the hotel have to do with the Yosts? Is there some kind of larger supernatural plan, or is the show more just a series of personal issues? I really enjoyed the pilot, and I’ll definitely be back for a second episode. I think the show has just enough weird to make it more than a typical family drama, without going into overly quirkly territory. There’s a lot of potential here, but I really have no idea what the show will be like on a weekly basis. One thing I’m pretty sure of is that the show isn’t likely to be embraced by a wide audience. But, we shall see.

The Sopranos: 'Made in America' (6x21)

“Made in America” wasn’t exactly an epic conclusion, but, like a lot of series finales, it’s a perfect summation of the series’ message, and as such, we shouldn’t have expected anything else. It’s at times frustrating, but in the end, I was satisfied by the episode, particularly the haunting mix of safety and menace in the final moments. It wasn’t the best episode of the season, in fact, it was one of the weaker ones, but the series ended in a good place and I don’t feel like I need any more.

The central conceit of the series was the idea that Tony is just like you, a family man with a wife and kids living in suburbia, only he’s also in the mafia. An ordinary person plus something special is usually the best way to make a TV show work. You need that other element as a hook, to lend some life and death stakes to the drama, but at the same time, drifting too far into a different world strips the show of relatability. I find this show more true to my life than any other in TV history, it perfectly captures the world of suburban New York in the early twenty-first century, the rhythms of everyday life.

So, in this episode, we retreat from the epic sweep of the recent run of episodes back to a more subdued status quo that’s actually pretty nice for Tony. Looking at the series in light of this episode, it’s clear that the operatic violence of “The Blue Comet” was an anomaly, this kind of war isn’t standard for the mob today. Phil was one of the last remnants of a dying age, something he made explicit in his speech last episode. He is the one who instigates this war by refusing to compromise on the asbestos dumping, and he’s the one who instigates violence by attacking Tony’s crew.

Thematically, it makes sense for him to die because his worldview just isn’t viable anymore. Even his own crew recognizes that what they’re doing doesn’t make business sense, Tony was right in “Kaisha” when he tried to smooth things over with Phil. They have lost all the higher principles of “this thing of ours,” and are left with just another business. Phil endangers the lifestyles they’ve all created, turning them back into soldiers, but even then, Tony leaves the safehouse to check in on his family. Carmela wants to return to their house, not ready to live the fugitive lifestyle. It’s just a matter of removing the threat and getting back to normal.

I think one of the most important scenes of the series was Little Carmine’s speech in “Stage 5,” in which he talked about how he backed off being boss when his wife told him she didn’t want to be the richest widow in Jersey. With so many characters dying over something as trivial as an asbestos dumping, the absurd incongruity of what they’re doing falls into place. The organization has no meaning beyond money, so they’re not really dying for anything. Phil is so frustrated at his prison stay because he gave us twenty years of his life for something he believed in and when he got out, he found out that no one believed in it anymore. What they’re doing is just like any job, would you put your life at risk for a promotion? Here, Carmine seems eager to stay out of the fray, he knows that one wrong word could lead to his death, so he just stays in the back and hopes that things will work themselves out. He has more important things that this war.

Tracking back a little, the episode opens with a lot of foreboding, heavy music on the soundtrack, snow swirling around and Paulie and Tony drive out to meet with Agent Harris. Most people talk about Melfi as the viewers’ stand in, but over the course of the series, and in this episode in particular, Agent Harris serves the same role, infatuated with Tony and secretly helping despite knowing that he’s a bad man. I read one review of the finale that said Harris was in a relationship with a Brooklyn cop, and that brought a lot of things together. The whole arc makes a lot more sense if that woman is the one Phil set up to be beaten and raped, and Harris is now using Tony to get revenge for his girlfriend. I’m not sure where in the series we saw she was a Brooklyn cop, but it works for me, and is a nice counterpoint to Melfi’s rape storyline. There, we saw her refuse to go outside the law to get what was quite justifiable justice. However, the actual law officers feel free to use the mob when it’s to their advantage.

Even without that connection, the arc works. Harris gets vicarious thrills from being in Tony’s world, and after spending so much time observing him, he pays Tony back for the intelligence about the Arabs. On a thematic level, the arc is indicative of the declining power of the mafia. They aren’t a real threat to national security, they’ve been replaced by something much larger. So, the government doesn’t have a big problem working with Tony to help stop the chaos.

From the time the series began, the world has gone through a lot of changes. 9/11 caused a seismic shift in the country’s political landscape, and few shows have engaged with post 9/11 life in the way that this season did. The mob isn’t as much of a threat anymore, and, as a quintessentially American entity, they’ve gained the tacit acceptance of the government. Last episode, Harris told Tony how the mob protected the Brooklyn Navy Yard during World War II. Now, Tony is serving the same role, they’re a part of the defense strategy, and are tolerated for that reason.

I would argue that the episode’s central theme is engagement with the American dream, and this is contained most notably in the resolution of AJ’s arc. At Bobby’s funeral, AJ talks about the fact that people still come to America with hope, in search of a better life, but, according to him, you can’t find it here anymore. Disillusioned by his experience with how the other half lives, he has stopped believing in the myth of America and is obsessed with the hypocrisies of the war in Iraq and the way that the American people just go about like sheep when so much is wrong with the world. He says it’s ridiculous to talk about the Oscars when people are dying in Iraq, ignoring the fact that you need some lies to live with the world. Part of coping with problems is just accepting that there’s going to be some bad stuff in the world we can’t deal with, and just letting it go.

AJ felt an inability to change anything in the world, and that’s what drove him to his suicide attempt. However, his growing relationship with Rhiannon, who he would love to love, helps set him on the right path. The car explosion helps jar him out of his funk and make him realize that he does want to live. Ultimately, what happens to him is that he learns to accept the lie again. He seeks to enlist in the army as a way to make a difference in the world, if he did that, then he could feel good about his place in the world. However, soon enough, he doesn’t even need that, moving away from his moment of pain, he buys back fully into the lie. AJ gets a BMW, that has good gas mileage, and takes an entry level job with Carmine because he doesn’t need to change the world anymore, just helping himself is enough.

I think it’s notable that AJ takes over for Christopher as Carmine’s partner. Tony has replaced one surrogate son with the other, ironically the thing he viewed as a distraction for Christopher becomes a salvation for AJ. Christopher does linger in the episode, with the cat, who incarnates all the people they’ve killed over the years. They’re still there, and even after Paulie drowns the cat, he returns. The conscience doesn’t clean that easy. But, it’s possible to live with the guilt, it’s there, but not actively bothering the characters.

I know people are going to talk about all the loose ends left open by the episode, but I think everything was resolved to a satisfactory level, as much as is possible without being contrived. Very few lives reach a real end point, things just go on, you could do a Six Feet Under style hop through time, but other than that, there’s really no ending you can give a TV show other than we’ve reached a momentary stasis point and things will go in the future. In that respect, this reminds me of the end of Buffy, some characters die, others go on to do new stuff, it’s not an ending so much as a stopping point.

To that end, almost all the long running characters get a nice farewell. We see Janice becoming her mother, something that’s made literal in the great scene where Junior calls Janice Livia and her daughter, Janice. Janice already resents Bobby’s children and will likely be so overprotective of her own daughter that Nica will rebel in the same way that Janice did as a child.

Junior is left in a haze, remembering only vaguely the days when he and Johnny Boy were part of “this thing of ours.” The final scene with Tony is the closest you’ll get to a glimpse of Tony’s future, he could one day end up a prisoner of the federal government, out of his mind, staring at some birds on a windowsill. It’s tough to see a character we’ve known for so long, who was once so fierce and lively turned into a vegetable, but that’s what the passage of time does.

The reason TV is such a powerful storytelling medium is that we have watched these people get older in a natural way. Movies usually feel constructed, a story designed to make a specific point, whereas great TV shows are more like just dropping into a world and checking in with the characters every year to see what they’re up to. While the delays between seasons were frustrating, they allowed the cast to age and grow in unexpected ways. If the show had ended in 2005, there’s no way we would have gotten the great stuff with AJ that we did this year. This show is a testament to what TV can do, and while it’s not my favorite show of all time, I think it is the best made.

Paulie ends pretty much where he began, sitting outside Satriale’s, looking back on some old times and getting ready to move to the future. The final scene with him and Tony is great, they’re the last two members of the old guard, the only ones with memories of Sil and Ralphie and Pussy. Tony’s generation is dying off, replaced by the Jasons and the random members of the crew. The faces change, but things are still basically the same.

Meadow, like her brother, buys into the lies necessary to believe in their family’s version of the American dream. One of the notable things about both kids is the way that they’ve each just accepted what their father does without any questioning or real moral trouble. AJ couldn’t stand the violence in Iraq, but never questioned the fact that everything he has comes from violence. Breaking down that lie would destroy his entire world and that’s why both he and Meadow ultimately choose to embrace their existence rather than run from it. While Tony succeeded in keeping them both out of the “Family” proper, they’re both involved in peripheral ways. AJ is working with Carmine, and if he was to have a club, he would certainly be involved with some of the criminal element.

Meadow’s arc is somewhat implicit. Over the course of the show we see her interrogate her father about his work, in the legendary “College,” move away from the family while dating Noah, then move back towards them when she was with Jackie Jr. At the end of season three, she has an outburst and disrupts the family order, and over the next couple of seasons, moves gradually away from her family. However, starting with last season, she and Finn become divided over her family’s criminal involvement, and ultimately she sides with her family rather than Finn. She could have stayed in California, but instead she moves back to Jersey.

Now, Meadow is a smart girl, she went to Columbia, she knows what her father does, but still, she expresses outrage at the way her father is treated by the government. She has bought into the myth, that they’re being persecuted because they’re Italian Americans, not because they’re criminals. This is absurd, but when you listen to her at the sushi restaurant, she fully believes it, and when Patrick is talking about his case, he says he’s defending a judge involved in some kind of corruption scandal, which Tony seems to be a part of.

By the time we reach the end of the episode, all the chaos of the past few episodes has essentially resolved itself and we’re back to as close to normal as we can get. I think one of the key things to understanding Chase’s work in the later seasons of the series, 6A in particular, is that he works based on the rules of real life, not of TV. So, exciting stuff isn’t always going to be happening to the characters, he’s not going to invent a lot of artificial drama that can resolve itself in a single hour, or give characters simple, easy to resolve arcs. Instead, in the style of real life, people will slip into patterns of trouble that repeat, most notably AJ and Christopher across the course of this two part season.

Christopher’s constant relapses and recoveries from addiction make no sense from a dramatic point of view, shouldn’t his arc lead him somewhere? It does, but in a less obvious way. All that slipping and reversals are critical to bringing him to the place he is in “Walk Like a Man,” where he nearly turns on Tony and the crew. Similarly, AJ’s depression works so well because we saw the seeds of it in 6A then it got fully paid off in 6B. Most TV characters don’t really grow, but face a constantly rotating set of problems. The characters on The Sopranos change, but always have the same core issues, and I think that’s true of real people. I can’t relate to constantly being caught up in love triangles, but I can relate to AJ’s issues with the world or Christopher’s troubles with Tony. The beauty of the show is that the characters aren’t likable in traditional ways, but are always completely relatable.

Anyway, what I’m getting at is that the last few episodes were something of an anomaly. Everybody’s life got thrown into chaos, as it appropriate at the climax of the story, but Chase chose to include this episode to show that this isn’t the status quo. Our lives don’t build to a big ending then stop, big stuff happens and people go on. Bobby dies, Janice moves on. The events echo, but they will gradually fade, and by the end of the episode, everything seems to be back to normal.

This brings us to the simultaneously brilliant and frustrating final scene. When the episode stopped, I, like many viewers, thought the cable had gone out and was incredibly frustrated. But, I realized it was past 10, so we had probably reached the end of things. It was tough to take in that moment, but I think the jarring nature of the cut out was a great choice, and a really bold one.

The scene directly follows Tony leaving Satriale’s, where he always gathered with the mob family. It used to be a bustling place, now it’s just Paulie left. Tony has lost a lot of friends, but ultimately, he never cared about the mob family as much as he did about his real family. He always claimed that everything he did, he did for them, and sitting there at the table, everything seems to have worked out pretty well for him.

There’s a number of critical things to look at in this scene. Let me start with the setting. This is a restaurant that’s not the cutting edge, sleek place where Tony and Meadow ate sushi, it’s an old style, classic family restaurant. Looking around him, we see a boy scout troop, a couple of teenagers and a guy with a USA hat on. These are ordinary people who seem more Midwest than Jersey, all American people, out enjoying a meal with their families. Putting the Sopranos in this setting reinforces what I’d argue is the central point of the episode, that they are just one more piece of the lie that is America. As AJ makes clear, there’s all this awful stuff happening in the world, and even right next door, but does it matter?

That’s where the music comes in. Again, Chase doesn’t go for what’s cool, instead it’s a track that just says guy sitting in a pickup truck with a mullet, Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believin.’” Music is always carefully chosen on the show and this track sums up the core theme of the episode. America is a dream we all have, it’s built on blood and hate, but if we’re happy, does that matter? In this moment, Tony watches his family come together, AJ’s happy, Carmela is happy, things are good.

But, simmering under the surface are a myriad of threats. He may be indicted for the gun charge, Carlo has flipped and there could still be gunmen out there. He’ll never be completely safe, but they can’t dwell on that. What AJ’s arc is telling us is that it’s not possible to fully engage with our world, there’s too much awful stuff. We just have to accept the lie, and we can’t stop believing in it. I absolutely love the way that song works in the scene, the cheesy, but great build as Carmela sits down. This is the kind of song she’d love, the kind of song they’d have played when they were younger together. They have a dream that they can hold on as long as they believe in it.

Watching the scene, I realized that Tony was going to get a happy ending, everything he really cares about is still there and he’s gotten pretty much everything he wants. Yet, hanging over all this was an inescapable sense of menace. A mysterious guy hovers at the bar, and Meadow struggles to parallel park. Tension is building under the serenity, a device that lets us understand how Tony views the world. Particularly after the hits on Bobby and Sil, everything around him is a potential threat. This is how he’ll always live, trying to believe in the lie, but fearing what’s around him.

The final moment of the show is extremely jarring, and I think that’s the point. Most of the seasons end with some kind of family tableau, and we seemed to be building to that, but just as Meadow is walking in, we cut in what’s probably the most jarring end of a series since the final moment of Twin Peaks. I read this ending as basically saying life goes on. The real world has no fade outs and music over the credits, things just happen and eventually we die. The show died in that moment, but the world carries on.

Will Meadow get to the table? Was the guy in the bathroom a killer? Will Tony be arrested? I think the answer is yes only to one of these questions. People are already talking about the way that Chase screwed them on the ending, but seriously, what do we need to know? Tony might be killed or might be arrested at any moment in the show, we don’t any sort of definitive closure at the ending. It would have been easier to end on Meadow sitting at the table, but he wanted to go out on a moment of tension, and that’s what we got, in a spectacular fashion. The lack of music over the credits was particularly jarring, just silence, no more from these characters. I don’t think we’ll ever see a movie, and I don’t think we need one, I am fully satisfied with how all the characters’ stories were resolved.

The series has always been about lies, the ones Tony tells himself to justify his actions, and the ones Carmela tells herself to justify her marriage. The characters who couldn’t accept the lie anymore, like Christopher, all ended up dead. You can’t challenge the world and you can’t leave the world. Instead, you simply need to believe in the myth that what they’re doing is meaningful and worthwhile, that it’s more than simple extortion and violence.

What this episode brings home is the way that Tony Soprano is no different than you or I. We all buy into this myth of America, the shared past and the uncertain future. We all think that the new generation’s going downhill, but really, things just go on. The generations cycle and people change, that is life in America. Tony has been a success because he’s found his place and he hasn’t challenged the status quo. He may be living in denial about all the bad things he’d one, but it doesn’t matter because all of us are. Sitting in that diner, he’s no different from you or I. We’re all a product of a culture that pushes the bad things below the surface so we can live in the dream. Watching his kids grow and surpass him, he’s living the American dream, going from criminal to lawyer in one generation. And, if you believe this series, there’s no real difference, it’s all a part of this one huge mosaic of lies and dreams that is America.

All Star Superman #3: 'Sweet Dreams, Superwoman'

“Sweet Dreams, Superwoman” is another really fun issue that manages to seamlessly mix over the top Silver Age craziness with real, emotional impact. That’s the series’ greatest strength, and it comes out of Morrison’s love for the material. He truly believes in what this version of Superman stands for, and is able to extrapolate from his existence what the universe would be like. If Superman is a regular presence in your world, the appearance of an evolved lizard from the Earth’s core would just be a minor inconvenience, and that’s an exciting world to live in.

The first page of the issue is incredible, Morrison sums up the issue’s premise quickly so we can get right to the action, and does so it in a way that lets Quitely do some phenomenal work. I like that Superman color coordinates the box with his costume, in the previous issue, we saw a more domestic Superman, and this kind of design work fits with his interests. I love the way Quitely draws Lois, particularly the bottom panel, which is just dripping with sex. Is there any significance to that? I’m not sure, but it works well, she is clearly excited by the idea of being like Superman and that final panel shows her taking control of things.

My one major problem with this issue is that Lois gets powers, but doesn’t really get to do anything. She flies around at first, but then spends most of the issue standing around while Superman, Samson and Hercules fight over her. I think you could do something interesting where Superman transfers his powers to her, so that he is forced to be human and let her do the heroics. Alternatively, you could just have the two of them going around together and helping people, but I guess it was not to be.

But, I think Morrison’s primary interest in the issue isn’t showing what Lois would do with superpowers, it’s more about showing why Superman is different than other heroes. It’s interesting that he chose two figures out of older cultural mythology. Morrison has always equated Superman with the Greek gods, referring to the JLA as the pantheon when he was writing that book. In the same way that the Greek gods served as a model to aspire to for people at the time, Morrison wants Superman to be a model for humanity. I think that’s a major reason he takes issue with Moore’s deconstructionist superhero writing, to Morrison, superheroes aren’t juvenile power fantasies, they are models for humanity to aspire to. A work like Miracleman shows what an ordinary person would do when presented with huge power, the ways that it would corrupt him and lead to an almost Aryan society. This work is more about showing what the ultimate hero is, and how humanity struggles to live up to his example.

Anyway, it’s notable that Superman is presented as the only mythological character who’s actually more than human. The others are petty and jealous, hoping to impress Lois with absurd feats of strength. Superman is so confident in himself that he doesn’t need to engage in their juvenile antics, he just chills for a while, then ultimately wins using his mind. Morrison presents an evolution of mythological figures, we don’t need the violence and pettiness of our old models, Superman is above that. In addition to commenting on mythology in general, it also fits as a meta commentary on superhero comics themselves. Superman doesn’t need to lower himself to the pointless violence of other characters, he is beyond that, something that most writers of the character don’t get.

On the page where they first meet, I love how Quitely has the subtle background action of Superman retrieving Krull from space. That’s one of the best things about Quitely’s art, and the way Morrison writes for him. It’s not just an illustrated story, you have the “read” the images to understand the story and there’s a ton of details in each issue to catch on repeat reads.

I like how Lois is so confident in Superman, she goes along with the feats. For her, it’s fun to watch these other guys put so much effort in, knowing that they’ll get shown up soon. They can talk about having drinks at the crucifixion or riding a chariot drawn by gods, that can’t compare to hanging out with Superman. The funniest thing here is when Lois says she’s trying to teach him a lesson “after the creepy and ridiculous impersonation of Clark Kent that started all this.” He just can’t convince her that he can the bumbling journalist as well as the Superman.

Superman ultimately shows up Samson and Herclues through his intelligence, not his strength, answering the riddle of the Sphinx. It’s notable that his answer is to surrender, a non-violent approach. We all just accept that superhero comics have to have violence and fights to be sustainable. That’s what a hero does, someone who literally fights for what’s right. But, this book presents a different approach, and it’s exciting to see it in action. This is a whole new paradigm for the sort of stories that can be told with the character, and superheroes in general.

Superman goes out to a beach to finally shut up Samson and Hercules and does so in a spectacular arm wrestling competition. My favorite part here is Lois’s total relaxation as she sits and watches, as well as Superman’s whistle as he defeats them. Visually, it’s pretty fantastic too, emerging into the gorgeous blue sky and ocean after our time in the cave.

From there, Superman and Lois head up to the moon to do something he’s wanted to do since the very first day they met. What exactly is that? Clearly they have sex, but wouldn’t they have done that before? Perhaps it’s sex with the superpowers, they do look pretty spectacular on the full page splash up on the moon, another amazing Quitely image. That moment, and the closing scene makes us understand what it’s like to have a relationship that’s so far beyond what humans can have. Superman feels everything more, so much so that Lois is exhausted by her day and drifts off to sleep.

The final page is very sweet. Quitely has an unmatched ability for framing a panel. The top panel on the final page shows us exactly what we need to know, but in a more dynamic way than a full body shot of Superman carrying Lois would. Here, we have the strength of his arms, the iconic symbol, juxtaposed against the quiet sleep of a now human woman. That’s what the series is all about the blend of super and man, over the top craziness and relatable emotion.

This is another great issue, again proving that Morrison has the definitive take on the character. I feel like with every book he writes does everything the characters need to do. We don’t need any more X-Men after the end of his run, no more Doom Patrol, no more Animal Man. He takes the concepts to their logical ends, incorporating everything important from the mythos and condenses it into one great run. That’s certainly what he’s doing here.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer: 'The Long Way Home: Part IV' (8x04)

This issue brings the initial arc to a close in a less than spectacular fashion. At this point, the novelty of having new Buffy in comics form has worn off a bit, so the problems with the storytelling are more apparent. It’s not bad, it’s just that this doesn’t feel like the show I loved. Admittedly, most of the problems are holdovers from season seven, magnified by the limited space that monthly comics allow for storytelling.

My major issue with this issue, and the series in general, is the premise, Buffy as leader of a gang of slayers. For me, the interesting part of the show was rarely the vampire slaying, or Buffy’s issues with her role as slayer, that was all just a hook to get people interested in the characters. The reason I love season six more than any other is that it strips back the action trappings and lets us focus exclusively on the characters and their issues. Season seven, and this comic, go in the exact opposite direction looking at Buffy only as a slayer, not as a person.

What this issue does is basically retread the exact thematic points we already saw in season four and seven, with the initiative and Caleb arcs. I never liked the initiative because it just didn’t fit into the world the show had created. I like the more street level slaying, what happens to the characters in seasons five and six is relatable, Buffy’s involvement with the initiative in season four, not so much. The show could do fantastical things and still be emotionally real, but the initiative stuff just didn’t make me feel anything. And, this arc hits the exact same points, Buffy vs. entrenched patriarchal military industrial complex.

The series’ hook was a girl who had a lot of power, but really wanted to live a normal teenage life. As she grew up, that remained the central conflict, could Buffy be a slayer and still live a normal life? The end of the show seems to resolve the conflict by making her no longer the chosen one, instead she’s just one of many chosen. That’s why the setup of this comic bothers me, Buffy isn’t particularly interesting when she is in control of her life. It’s when things are spinning away from her that the character was best, here she’s got so much power, such a large operation, there’s no real tension.

The most grating moment in the issue is when Buffy goes on a rant about how the military guy doesn’t want women and power in the same sentence. It doesn’t work for the same reason that the Caleb arc in season seven fails, you never want to make what was thematically implicit explicit in such an obvious manner. We know that Buffy is powerful, we know that people are out to get her, you don’t need to go into such obvious speechifying mode. It’s the equivalent of having someone come out and call Tony Soprano a bad man, we know that already, we don’t need to be told. We know that the military is out to keep women down, we don’t need Buffy to say it. It just took me out of the moment of the story.

The series ends by setting up an X-Men style war between slayers and normal humans. This is an interesting route to go in theory, but I don’t think it works with what Buffy was doing during the series. For me, Buffy isn’t particularly interesting as a leader of troops, that’s why season seven fails on a lot of levels, we lose the sense of her as a person. Now, she’s an icon, not an individual and we either have to see behind her façade or not put her in this position. I feel like we really need Spike here, to keep her in touch with her dark side. Now, she’s got no one to play off of and it’s only through the interior monologues that we get any sense of the conflict she feels. But, let’s show, not tell on that.

Ultimately, I think the reason I have issues with the book is that Buffy was one of the least interesting characters on the show. I love her during season two, five and six, when she’s got all kinds of troubles facing her, but during the comparatively stable years, she wasn’t particularly interesting. Willow, Anya, Tara, Xander and Spike were all much more interesting than her, and I’d rather spend more time with them than with Buffy. That’s where the problem with comics come in. On the show, there was time to give the other characters their own meaningful subplots, here they just do a couple of pages supporting Buffy. Perhaps that will change in future arcs, we’ll see.

Looking ahead, I’m curious how this storyline will play into the Faith storyline. Will it really be six months before we return to these characters, or will Faith eventually meet up with them? I have to say, I’ll be happy to leave Buffy for a while to focus on someone else. The setup she’s got now, she’s just not that interesting. There were some more interesting, human moments in the last couple of issues, but not here. I’m sticking with the comic, it’s still cool to see the gang back together, but I think the premise they’ve chosen was really misguided. Hopefully things will right themselves on future storylines.

The Sopranos: Top Ten Episodes

By way of summarizing the series, I’m going to go through my top ten Sopranos episodes. It’s a lot tougher to do that with this show than with a lot of others, say Buffy or even Six Feet Under, since every episode is at such a consistently high level, and the show doesn’t usually use the build to a big mythology/finale episode structure of a lot of series. Every episode is so good that it’s only the weaker ones that stand out. But, there’s still better and worse episodes, and I shall delve into them.

Notably, there are no season one episodes. A lot of people will tell you season one is the show’s best season, and it is fantastic, but I don’t think it’s as layered and complex as the later years. Looking at that season now, none of the characters are as developed as they are in the later years. Adrianna is just a pretty girl, Chase didn’t know at this point what she’d become, and the same is true of Paulie and Pussy. From a plot level, it’s probably the tightest season, but it’s also the most “TV” in the sense that it’s got more obvious standalone stories and a clear arc throughout the season.

While the later seasons are messier, they feel more real and more character centered. It’s the character hooks that make the series so wonderful, and that’s the reason that season five is my favorite season of the entire series. There, they used less serial plotting than in the previous seasons, instead focusing in depth on one or two characters each episode. This meant that each episode gave us a ton of development and much to ponder and discuss.

Also, I watched the first four seasons on DVD, then watched the fifth and sixth as they aired. So, it’s harder for me to separate those early seasons into individual episodes, they all sort of bleed together, while the latter are separated in my mind. I’d stand by these picks regardless, but it’s possible if I’d watched those earlier seasons separately, they’d be more distinguished.

Anyway, on to the top ten, in chronological order…

D-Girl (2x07) – This episode is the culmination of Christopher’s first flirtation with the film business, putting him and Pussy at a crossroads between serving Tony and pursing their own best interest. I loved Christopher’s interest in film because it was a dream, a way out of the world. In him and Adrianna, I always saw hope, the chance to escape this world and not become like Tony. This episode plays that conflict, for a moment it seems that he can be successful and move on to something better, but, as with the Vito storyline, he finds out that it’s tough to play by civilian rules, to actually have to work for what you want, not just get it. It’s a prescient episode because it contains all the central themes of season six, the way that these people will give up what they really want for the easy life of the mafia.

We not only get this, we also get some of the most emotional scenes in the series, as Pussy is forced to restore AJ’s faith in his father even as he’s betraying him to the FBI. The best scene is Pussy upstairs in the bathroom, crying, aware that he will either have to leave this world or eventually die. On top of this, we get some really funny stuff with Jon Favreau, one of the few celebrity playing themselves cameos that doesn’t feel self indulgent or too inside.



Funhouse (2x13) – There’s a lot of good stuff in season two, the fantastic Robert Patrick arc, Christopher’s acting class, but this episode’s surreal journey to inevitability is the moment when the series established its rich dream mythology that would infuriate some fans and enrapture others, like myself. I love that they spend so much time with the weird dreams as a device to get Tony to face what he already knows, that Pussy is working for the feds. It’s crazy, exciting stuff with some of the series best visual moments.

And then we get the sad resolution of Pussy’s story as he’s gunned down and dumped in the ocean. This is a major turning point for Tony, and the series as a whole. We’d seen Tony kill before, but to kill a friend? It’s cast a shadow over the entire series, echoed in this season’s “Remember When.”



Pine Barrens (3x11) – If this episode wasn’t so good, I’d be mad it even existed because it’s led to five years of people asking when the Russian’s coming back. To that, I can only say you’re an idiot. People who consider the Russian a loose end completely miss the point, it’s like saying Pulp Fiction sucked because we never found out what was in the briefcase. The entire point of the character was the uncertainty of whether he was dead or alive, a menace out in the forest. To resolve that would strip the episode of a lot of its power, and particularly three seasons later, it’s not going to happen. Reading some online postings, you’d think it was satire, but people apparently really are furious he hasn’t come back and even spinning elaborate theories that involve the Russian coming back for the final episodes. Let it go.

Anyway, that aside, this is a brilliant episode. It’s the show’s funniest, as we witness Chris and Paulie go through all kinds of indignities in the woods, eating ketchup packets and making shoes out of rubber. Visually, it’s one of the show’s best, with the gorgeous snowscapes and seemingly endless woods. If nothing else, this episode is testament to the fact that the show can be incredibly funny when it wants to be.



Amour Fou (3x12) – The resolution of the Gloria Trillo arc is fantastic stuff, tying the season back to Tony’s now absent mother. While I’m obviously not happy that Nancy Marchand died, losing the character when they did worked in the show’s favor. They had pretty much exhausted Livia herself by the end of the second season and she becomes more interesting as a specter hanging over everyone. In this episode, Tony finally realizes the similarities between Gloria and Livia and, in an incredible, intense scene, leaves her. Earlier in the episode, we also get the great scene where Gloria drives Carmela home from the car dealership. The show can do tension like no other, and this episode was full of it. While I like the mob stuff, it’s really the personal drama that interests me, and where normally we’d get the season’s death in the penultimate episode, here we get the death of a relationship.



Whitecaps (4x13) – The long simmering drama surrounding Tony and Carmela’s marriage comes to a head here, as she finally rejects him and his philandering. The episode is full of incredible scenes between the two of them, moments that were building for four years and finally come spilling out here. Falco and Gandolfini have never been better. The episode is the series’ longest, at 75 minutes, and that extra time helps give things an epic scope as they march towards the separation, taking the family’s broken dreams in their wake, and setting up the brilliance of season five.




Irregular Around the Margins (5x05) – A brilliant episode at the time, and in retrospect, the critical turning point in Tony and Christopher’s relationship. This is what inspires Cleaver and starts the rift that will eventually lead to Christopher’s death. That accident is a replication of what happens here. Adrianna’s arc over the last couple of seasons was some of the best stuff the show ever did and this episode takes it to emotional, excruciating places. One thing you won’t see on another show, probably ever, is a character getting IBS, but they went there and it provided the impetus for Tony and Adrianna’s flirtation. There’s so much tension here, so much pettiness among the crew. I love the way their pettiness threatens to spill over into violence.




Long Term Parking (5x12) – Adrianna’s murder was something the series could never come back from. Writing abut the first part of season six, I said that the show had lost something when she died, the hope that maybe someone could get out and live a better life. When she died, that possibility disappeared. But, that was the whole point. As we see in season six, her death has forced everyone to either commit to the life or die. Those are the only options.

What happens here destroys Tony and Christopher’s relationship, largely because of Christopher’s own weakness. In a devastating scene, he is all set to run away with Adrianna, or at least I think he is, until he sees a white trash family at a gas station. Faced with the possibility of living a normal life, he decides to turn Adrianna over to Tony and Silvio, who kill her in the woods. The tension of this episode comes from the juxtaposition of the inevitable ending and the glimmer of hope we cling on to. Even when she’s in the car, I’m hoping that maybe they weren’t lying, that she’s off to a new life somewhere. But, she’s not and by episode’s end, she’s dead



Join the Club (6x02) – I love the series’ forays into metaphysical weirdness, and few were more satisfying than this trip to a parallel universe where Tony becomes Kevin Finnerty, businessman. The basic conceit of this episode, a man who switches briefcases and becomes someone else, is fascinating and could be a feature right there, but wrapped up in what we know about Tony, it becomes an exciting way to view the man he could have been. Few episode endings are as haunting as Tony sitting alone in his hotel room, looking out at the revolving lighthouse as Moby plays.

On top of that, we get the phenomenal hospital scenes, a showcase for Edie Falco. And, the episode’s importance to the series as a whole was confirmed during Tony’s peyote trip, at which point he realizes that there are other world than just this one. Did he remember the Kevin Finnerty experience in that moment? I think he did. The intensity and power of this episode wasn’t matched until the next episode on the top ten list.




Walk Like a Man (6x17) – Before this episode, we’d been in something of a holding pattern for eight or nine episodes. There were great moments, but there wasn’t any sense of urgency. I was thinking that the show would end in a leisurely manner, maybe some people would die, but things would go on as they always had. Then this episode happened and everything changed. As you’ve probably gathered, I’m a big Christopher fan and this is the episode that essentially seals his fate. He has struggled to be what Tony wants him to be, but he just can’t do it. If he’s with them and drinking, then he’s a disgrace, if he’s not, he’s also letting Tony down. It’s a conundrum and there really is no answer. There’s so many brilliant scenes with him here, including the shocking death of JT. Chris is going off the rails and it’s pretty clear he doesn’t have long to live by the end.

At the same time, we get the first major focus on AJ, who will come to dominate the rest of the season. He’s drawn into the world of the mob and for a moment it seems like he will follow his path. The happy family tableau at the end of the episode is all the more striking for the fact that after this, they can never be together in the same way again.



Kennedy and Heidi (6x18) – Any episode of this final run could easily be on this list, but I went with “Kennedy” for the ambition and sheer audacity of making an entire episode about Tony trying to make other people feel that Christopher’s death was a good thing. The pageantry of mourning seems so hollow to him, and we’re placed right there, disregarding common human decency, sadness at Chris’s death, to instead share Tony’s detached view. There’s not much emotion at Christopher’s death, that came in the previous episode, this is all about Tony and his struggle.

The peyote trip is the capper, as Tony tries to relive his Kevin Finnerty existence and winds up stumbling dazed through a casino, a virtual zombie. I love the way they depicted the trip, a strange emotional capper to a really surprising journey. It’s a fantastic hour that shows the series is much more than just a mob story.



Again, “The Second Coming” and “The Blue Comet” could both easily have made it on the list, but I wanted to give some variety. Perhaps I’m just enchanted by the new, but those episodes seemed as good as anything the show has ever done. Either way, hopefully the series finale will find a place on the list and be as strong as the past few episodes have been.

The Sopranos - 'The Blue Comet' (6x20)

“The Blue Comet” is an interesting episode because it’s simultaneously exactly what you’d expect and totally unexpected. After Tony was shot I concluded that the show was not likely to go out with a bang, more likely we’d see Tony fade away, life go on. After the slow fade of last season’s finale, and even through the first couple of episodes of this season, I was still feeling that way, but starting with “Walk Like a Man,” everything changed and since that episode, we’ve been on a march to this point, with everything falling apart, to the point that this episode leaves Tony alone in a safehouse, all his close friends dead, separated from his family. It’s an apocalyptic episode and another masterpiece from Chase and his team.

The show has teased a New York/New Jersey war for a long time, from Tony’s betrayal of Johnny Sack in “Whitecaps” to the near war in last season’s “Kaisha,” and after the buildup last week, I was hoping that he wouldn’t stop things before they started again. This entire season has had a feeling of dread, and this episode took it to almost unbearable levels. The opening scene, with Silvio murdering Burt Gervasi set up that this was going to be a big episode, though I was a bit unclear who he was murdering.

Being near the end of a series makes every threat a bit more real. Last season, you’d never have thought that Phil really might take out the top guys in Tony’s crew, now, it’s a real possibility, and as Bobby walked into that train store, he was already dead, it was just about waiting for it to happen. Things were so bad after Silvio died that I legitimately thought Tony might go.

On a thematic level, the episode integrates a lot of things that have been going on under the surface for a while. Phil says that he needs to take out Tony Soprano’s “glorified crew” because they don’t really believe in the mythology of the mafia. It is the ritual that makes them more than gangsters, the ritual is the reason Phil spent time in prison, and if that’s meaningless, then so is his time in prison. That’s also why Tony isn’t a “real” gangster, Phil mentions his lack of jail time here and shut Tony down with it last episode with his already classic speech about compromising.

The entire show has been about Tony’s inability to live up to his father and cinema’s image of what a mobster should be. Now, Phil cracks on his team, marveling at the fact that Bobby is one of the top three guys. After the death of Sil and Bobby, Paulie is Tony’s only ally, and he’s constantly shown himself to be selfish, oblivious to the needs of others. Tony is left with basically no one, sitting alone in a room, holding a machine gun.

It’s almost surreal to have these murders actually happening. While I think Chase needed to pay off all this buildup, I do think it’s a bit of a resignation to go down this road. I had come to terms with the fact that the show wasn’t going to have a big ending, and it’s a surprise to see this happen. I would have liked to see Chase screw with people one final time and throw out a big dream sequence or something like that at the close, but this payoff is certainly better than something like “Kaisha.”

The dissolution of Tony’s crew fits with one of the central themes of the series, the decline of the mafia. Even if Tony survives and either kills Phil or negotiates a peace settlement, he’s got no one left. All his successors are dead. It’s just a bunch of random thugs left, no one to carry the legacy. Can Tony run things like this, how will it work? The only person I could see stepping up to follow him would be Meadow, but I don’t think protocol would allow that.

On a familial level, we see Tony pushing away from him. He’s too much of a target, and now the only way to protect his family is to leave them. It felt final when they left the house, like they’ll never be back there. I do like the implications of him abandoning his suburban mansion to go back to an old neighborhood style house.

This episode also sees AJ fail another test. I’m perhaps most curious to see how his story resolves. He seems completely incapable of dealing with the world, will this latest outburst from Tony get him back on track or push him completely away? His arc this season has been phenomenal, here we see Tony finally treating AJ like his parents treated him, harsh, stripping him of his autonomy. He clearly blames Carmela for what happened to him and he’s trying to reverse some of that now.

This comes up in the fantastic Melfi scene, where she finishes his sentences as he goes through a rote list of complaints. She’s so cold there, I was fearing for her. Tony respects her too much to hurt her, but he is hurt by her abandonment of him at such a low point. It is questionable of her to dump him so suddenly, but that study clearly pointed out what was always apparent, that her work was helping him be a better criminal. Does someone like Tony deserve to be helped? Wouldn’t ‘progress’ only make him worse? Melfi never seemed to think that she could save him, and she must have known that much of what she said led to violence. I always thought she was complicit in that, maybe she didn’t realize how much she was until Elliot told her.

I’m guessing that’s the last time we’ll see Melfi, barring some kind of closing montage with all the characters, and it’s a great way to go out. She realizes that her work isn’t going anywhere, and that by treating him, she is in some ways complicit in what he’s doing. She tried to help him, but he wound up saying the same things and not facing up to the basic morality of his life. Unable to do that, she has a right to let him go.

The scene with Janice and Bobby’s kids was heartbreaking because Janice wasn’t reacting how we’d expect her to. It was just quiet sadness, driving home that for all the over the top cool of his murder, what’s left is three kids who will be raised by someone who will resent them and hurt them. Bobby’s kids in particular will be scarred by these next few years. We’ve already seen Janice turning into her mother in “Soprano Home Movies,” this will only make things worse.

While that scene really got to me, the deaths themselves were curiously lacking in emotion. I think it’s because we were so aware of the impending death, it was almost a relief when it happened. Particularly in Bobby’s scene, the minute he walked into train shop, I knew he was gone, and it was excruciating sitting there, wondering when it would come. Christopher’s death was like that as well, he was on such a downward spiral, the death felt like an inevitability, not a surprise. There were moments of sadness surrounding all the deaths, but never in the traditional sappy way most TV shows do it.

Perhaps the best thing I can say about this episode is that it feels like a second to last episode. There’s a lot still up in the air, but this was the 84th piece of an 85 piece story. Ever since “Walk Like a Man,” the show has been as good as anything to ever air on TV or in the movies. It’s incredibly tense and perfectly focused on what matters. It’s hard to believe, but AJ has become one of the best characters on the show and Tony remains intensely fascinating. I really can’t wait to see what Chase does with the final chapter.