Maggie's Farm

The ending, last night, was the height of TV. Paulie, sitting silently with his Mom on an authentic Italian New Jersey sofa, stunned, emasculated, and disoriented, watching Lawrence Welk.

Am I alone in thinking that this season's Sopranos is the best that it has ever been?

Finally, this bunch of vulgar and ignorant sociopaths and low-lifes are actually being affected by life and reality. I discussed this with the hubby last week; we decided that only Chris and Paulie would be immune to change. Woops. Wrong!

The moving part of this is the idea that these ruthless creeps might really have hearts and souls, buried deep inside - however immature, self-centered, paranoid, and undeveloped they are. And the bits about Vito in New Hampshire - wonderful. Live Free or Die! It makes you sympathetic to every lost gay fellow, searching for a real life. It almost brought tears to these eyes when Vito and the diner cook went riding off on their motorcycles through the New Hampshire hills.

I heard a semi-well-informed rumor that they might come back next season...we'll see.  I hope so, because it is finally becoming more interesting than it was - and it was always brilliantly-made, with perfect detail. And with perfect music.