Don't Stop Believing

Less time spent fucking around in restaurants and more time in front of the goggle box this week as I said good bye to an old friend and welcomed home another.

The Soprano’s reached its bone shattering conclusion on Sunday night and while most of my friends were out partying at espookio, I was firmly planted indoors so as not to miss the most important television event of the decade. Having stuck my fingers in my ears, shouted gibberish and physically threatened anyone who brought up the subject of the finale in the proceeding weeks, I had effectively shielded myself from the ending and went into the programme as much a plaything of fate as Tony Soprano himself. If you value your faith in television and didn’t tune in on Sunday, I suggest you do the same and close this page immediately.

This series has been something of a slow, steady burner, with the drama cranked up by increment over the nine episodes. Tony’s daily struggles with work and family continue, but this time against a background of seething tension with Phil Leotardo’s New York crew, threatening the Soprano Family’s very survival. By the time we reach the last episode, a few key members of the crew have been killed or seriously injured, and we’re basically tuning in to see if Tony’s going to get whacked.

While usually unflinching in its graphic portrayal of murder and violence (the superb scene in the model train shop where Bobby is felled by a hail of gunfire comes to mind) the last scene of the Soprano’s avoids a similar blood lust pay out for Tony, and leaves things altogether a lot more complicated.

With Leotardo dispensed with, a measure of stability has returned to Tony’s life. AJ seems to be improving and been dissuaded from joining the army, and a tentative reconciliation with a senile Uncle Junior has been reached. Carlo Gervasi has turned informant, so possible jail time lies ahead for Tony, while the imminent threat of death seems to have subsided. However, this is last scene of the last episode of the last series, so we know better than to expect such a simple conclusion. In a stomach twisting sequence of shots, our suspicion and paranoia become fused with Tony’s as a number of shadowy potential assassins emerge amongst the diner’s clientele. Tony selects Journey’s Don’t Stop Believing on the jukebox and just as the tension becomes almost unbearable the action abruptly cuts to black, holding a few seconds before the credits roll silently.

I won’t get into the “was Tony shot” debate too much here, as the internet is already brimming with analysis and counter-analysis as fans split into rival factions. This debate is likely to go on indefinitely, but it’s suffice to say that as finales go, this was a ripper, with even the Duch peeking up from behind her facebook to check it out. For what it’s worth, I side with those who believe Tony was shot, with the cut to black reflecting the closing of the window we had into Tony’s world, the abruptness of death having been discussed in an earlier episode by Bobby and Tony. Others amass evidence to contrary, but I think the creators’ wanted us to fill in our own ending, so unless they start up again or make a film, I’ll stick with that one.

In reality TV, often the simplest premise works best. Big Brother was good the first couple of series, but starting going downhill as soon as the producers starting fucking with it too much, but with Kitchen Nightmares Gordon Ramsey knows why people tune in and stays pretty close to the formula.

In the first episode of the fourth series, the infamous browbeater was in Brighton, home of seafood restaurant Ruby Tates as well as lots of gay people, as Gordon keeps reminding us.

It’s a familiar story; Ex-actor restauranteur Allan is losing £1500 a week and the chefs are lazy and incompetent, serving up dead mussels and warm fruit de mer. In comes Gordon, and with a unique mix of ritual humiliation and inspirational leadership, sets about turning a damp squid into the catch of day. This is done by changing pretty much every aspect of the restaurant down to the name, so by the end of the episode it is basically an expensive fish and chip shop, though with a profit of over £3000 a week and climbing.

Despite the fact that you can see the formula a mile off, Kitchen Nightmares remains pretty good telly. The F-word can seem like its trying to be everything to everyone all at once, which can get a bit tiresome but this programme fortunately knows what it’s doing and does it. The put downs and “bollockings” were a little toned down in this episode, but it remains to be seen if that will remain the same throughout the series.

With my favourite anti-hero now sleeping with the fishes, I need another show to indulge my passive aggression.