Ron Moore blogs on David Chase's Balls

I KNOW, that's a headline worthy of a five year old. What can I say, the air's thinner here.

Ron Moore, who has proven through three seasons of Battlestar Galactica that he is no stranger to the "OMG" mindblowing ending, thinks that the Sopranos final curtain was just perfect:

For weeks, the speculation has centered around a simplistic black and white question for a show that revelled in never providing monochromatic answers: would Tony live or die? The prosaic nature of the question and its anticipated answer was itself was the most disappointing thing about the lead-up to the finale. Either Tony was going to get whacked, or he wouldn't. "The Sopranos" would end with either the bitter little pill of the "bad" guy finally getting what he's got coming or with the vaguely false relief of family affirmed and life goes on.

Instead, Chase managed to do the unthinkable, the unbelievable and the unprecedented: he yanked us out of their lives without any resolution whatsoever. We were torn away from Tony, Carmella, AJ, Meadow, Paulie, Sil and the all the rest without any idea what happens to them tomorrow or even later that same evening. In real life, when you lose contact with someone, you seldom if ever have the satisfaction of knowing how the myriad threads of their lives resolved themselves. They are removed from your circle of knowledge and yet their lives go on unbeknownst to you in ways you can only imagine. The Sopranos are gone from our lives, but their lives go on without resolution, much like ours. None of us have tidy, revelatory endings that are the culmination of our "story arcs" and neither will they.

Oh, I'm sure there are those who will bemoan the lack of resolution to the story or that Chase has somehow "robbed the fans" but I'm a fan and I'm ecstatic. I'm glad he thumbed his nose at the tyranny of the narrative drive to bring things to a tidy conclusion so we can all clap and walk away without another thought about that mob family in Jersey, satisfied that all's well that ends well. Screw that. I don't want to see Tony's death, nor do I want to watch him drive off into witness protection, or sit down to some kind of illusory happiness in the bosom of his family. I simply want to pretend that his life continues, that he's still simultaneously worrying about onion rings and whether that guy is hiding a gun in the restroom.

It's poetic. It's exciting. It's perfect.

And most of all, I wish I'd thought of it first.

Me too.

Bill Carter of the New York Times also is up with the story he was working on when we did our panel yesterday: he talks to several of America's top showrunners to gauge their reaction to the finale:

For David Shore, creator of the Fox hit “House,” one of the best touches was Mr. Chase’s own refusal to discuss the ending. Mr. Shore said: “Obviously he wants us to speculate on what it all means. Obviously that’s what we’re all doing.”

David Milch, who has created highly regarded dramas like “NYPD Blue” and “Deadwood,” said: “It was a question of loyalty to viewer expectations, as against loyalty to the internal coherence of the materials. Mr. Chase’s position was loyalty to the internal dynamics of the materials and the characters.”

I fear, a bit, this split between the writer and their vision and the audience's desire for closure. But it's true that any real student of the show over the last several years had to know that this was never going to end in a tidy little bow.

Forty eight hours later and I'm still shaking my head at the bravura turn of it.

The TV fan in me hopes we'll one day see a series as good. The writer in me, darkly, suspects not. One thing for sure, though -- years from now when people talk about that ending, it will still have the power to astonish. And that's something, isn't it?