The Sopranos Season Six Part II

The Sopranos Season Six Part II

And thus, one of the greatest accomplishments in television history comes to a close, not with a bang but a... well, if you’re reading this review, you may be one of the many who’ve assiduously (and arguably impossibly) tried to keep the last moments of The Sopranos a secret before finally getting a chance to not stop believing on your own. If you have indeed been following this show on DVD instead of broadcast, it’s proven to be a trying task keeping up with monstrously expensive season sets that offer half the TV as a network program, usually at more than twice the price. Did I say half the TV? I don’t mean that by half — even a single episode of The Sopranos contains such a ridiculously high standard of writing, acting and convention busting that it’s changed the face of broadcast television, ushering in a golden age (in terms of quality) in which we currently find ourselves. But as DVD sets? The suckage continues. Setting aside the quality of the show, about which volumes have been and will continue to be written, as rewards for compulsive fandom, these have been a terrible letdown. Aside from splitting the final season in two (the final price to pay for closure is only nine episodes), extras remain scant. When one of them is a faux-featurette (done in character) on Christopher Moltisanti’s mob slasher flick Cleaver, the line between clever parody and joke on the consumer blurs further. Creator and overlord David Chase hasn’t been seen since an excellent hour-long discussion on the first season set (which debuted in 1999 — how much has the world, not to mention the view from the Jersey shore, changed since then?). He actually shows up here for a brief discussion on music (joined too briefly by Silvio, aka Springsteen side-man Stevie Van Zandt) and offers only enough hints of insight to frustrate fans who’d love to hear more. Commentaries from mostly peripheral cast members, like Arthur Nascarella (Carlo Gervasi) and Steven R. Schirripa (Bobby Bacala) are gushingly appreciative but lack insight. (Who can blame them?) To think that there’s a slew of material being saved for some kind of complete series super-box would be very frustrating; more likely is that David Chase is simply going to leave the scene and walk away. Fade to black. (Warner)