Arrested Pulse

Because of its dependence on Middle-Eastern oil, the corruption of its political and social institutions, and its pending defeat in the war on terror, the United States is doomed to destruction. That is the theme of the series' finale to HBO’s immensely popular The Sopranos. It is also key to understanding the metaphorically explosive—yes, explosive—last scene of the episode.

I'm not the first to align the final episode with anti-American terrorism. In a letter to Salon.com , Kathy Bird writes:


Still, beyond this letter, surprisingly little has been said of the show’s preoccupation with the terrorist threat to the United States, despite the fact that most of the scenes in the final episode either reference terrorism explicitly or implicitly. No other episode of the series depicts so many images of flammable and potentially explosive things.

“Members Only”: SUVs, Old Glory, and Al-Qaeda
The very first scene of the final episode has Tony and Paulie sitting in a gas-guzzling SUV outside an airport. They are waiting to meet Agent Harris, who in earlier seasons was out to nab Tony but now has established a close alliance with him in the effort to combat terrorism. The scene is reminiscent of September 11 with two planes roaring overhead (the first, which we observe through the windshield of the SUV, lands precariously, at an angle). After Harris arrives, Tony walks across the parking lot and the slow-falling snow conjures images of downtown Manhattan while the Twin Towers were ablaze. Tony, in an attempt to get information on the whereabouts of Phil Leotardo, reveals the name of a bank where two Arab associates of his nephew Christopher apparently had accounts. By doing this, Tony becomes an active participant in the US war on terror.

Ominous suggestions of doom crowd the first half hour. In the second scene Tony meets Carmela at their oceanfront hideout where she complains of a “toxic odor.” Later, at the reception following Bobby’s funeral, Tony and Carmela are seen before a mural of an erupting Mount Vesuvius. The ash-cloud from the volcano, which enshrouds Tony’s head, resembles the plume of smoke that drifted from the burning World Trade Center. Meanwhile, Tony’s son AJ lashes into a table of acquaintances for their lack of interest in anything but pop-culture “bullshit” and quotes Yeats’ apocalyptic poem “The Second Coming”: "And what rough beast… slouches toward Bethlehem to be born."

Later, after Tony is told by Agent Harris that Phil Leotardo recently contacted his goons from a gas-station payphone, two of Tony’s hitmen appear at a “Gulf” station in search of said phone. The image depicted is this: a gas-tank truck with the “Gulf” logo (think Gulf War) is parked next to a white fence, behind which a diminutive American flag waves in the wind.

In the very next scene, AJ and his girlfriend are getting it on in his yellow, gas-guzzling Nissan Xterra SUV when the engine catches on fire. They make it out just seconds before the vehicle explodes, even though, according to AJ, the tank was “practically empty.” When Tony and Carmela inform AJ in the next scene that he won’t be getting a new vehicle, he responds with: “That’s good… we need to break our dependence on foreign oil.” AJ, who has been articulating the threat of terrorism and the decline of American culture throughout the season, later tells his shrink about the incident: “Ever since it blew up, I feel like... cleansed or something… just watching it go. That huge fireball. You have no idea… the heat. My seat melted. And I’d been in it just a few seconds before.”

Explicit References to Terrorism
The references to terrorism escalate in the last twenty-five minutes of the episode. In a change of heart, AJ decides he wants to join the Army. When he tells his father this (in the family’s gas-guzzling SUV), Tony is taken aback: “You want to go to Iraq?” “Afghanistan,” he tells Tony, “to be a helicopter pilot.” In the next scene, AJ’s shrink says this to Tony and Carmella about AJ: “He said he wants to get past the hate, focus it only on the terrorists. I really can’t reveal much more.” This prompts Carmela to inform them that AJ just spent over $200 on tapes to learn how to speak Arabic.

America’s dependence on oil and the subsequent terrorist threat to its national security are clearly illustrated in two consecutive scenes. The first is when Phil Leotardo gets whacked at the “Raceway” gas station. After he is shot, his gas-guzzling Expedition—Ford’s flagship SUV--rolls over him and crushes his head as an American flag waves in the wind nearby. The blue oval Ford logo is prominently displayed twice: first on the grille under the SUV's hood, straight and sparkling, when it drives up to the pump, and then sideways on the steering wheel as it turns with the careening vehicle. By juxtaposing iconic symbols of American nationalism (flag), culture (gas station) and industry (Ford SUV), this scene exemplifies AJ’s rants concerning US dependence on foreign oil. (More on the final episode’s depiction of SUVs here.)

Punctuating the political and social implications of that scene is the opening shot of the next one, which shows an Al-Qaeda leader giving a speech to a gathering of terrorists. As the camera pans out, we see that the speech is a video playing on the computer of a seemingly bored Agent Harris, who sits next to (yet another!) US flag. An FBI colleague comes in, sits down, and informs him that Phil Leotardo has just been popped. “Damn,” Harris exclaims, briefly shedding his boredom, “we’re gonna win this thing!” As the agent eyes him curiously, he recovers himself. Harris’s impulsive Freudian remark suggests more than his (corrupt) alignment with the New Jersey mob against New York; it suggests that “we,” the United States, may not be winning our war (“this thing”) on terror.

Instantaneous Incineration?
The Sopranos was always more than a series about the Mob. Maurice Yacowar describes the show as "one of the great epic works of art and a searing examination of how the American Dream has been corrupted." It depicted the perils to, successes of, and stresses on what many assume to be the core of American culture: the nuclear family. In earlier seasons, the Soprano family was threatened, from the outside, by the federal government—which Meadow tells Tony in the last episode is responsible for her decision to pursue law rather than medical school—and, from the inside, by Tony’s infidelity. The last season saw the rise of a new outside force: terrorism. Most of the scenes in the final episode, as I’ve pointed out, are so full with references to fire, things flammable, and anti-US terrorism that they presage an ending by instantaneous incineration.

The controversial final scene pits everything that is “all-American” (including, ironically, the Soprano family) against impending doom. Paintings of high-school football heroes adorn the walls of Holsten's restaurant. Families like the Sopranos fill several booths. A young couple plays affectionate. A small group of cub scouts (one with his patch of the US flag clearly visible) huddle with their pack leader. A working man with a cap that reads “USA” gets a cup of coffee. A waitress delivers Cokes and an order of onion rings to the Sopranos’ table.

It is important to note that terrorism-obsessed AJ enters the restaurant (after driving there in his new BMW M3, which only gets 16 miles per gallon!) on the heels of the most foreboding character-—the man wearing the Member’s Only jacket. This character is then pictured in the background over AJ’s shoulder. As Meadow Soprano attempts to parallel park her Lexus IS 250 (which gets 18 miles per gallon!), we observe the suspicious man lurk over his coffee, glance at the Soprano family, and then walk into the men’s room. In looks he might resemble a Mafia hitman, but in demeanor he strikes one as a suicide bomber like those who have blown up Israeli restaurants and nightclubs.

The suggestion by the instant black-out is that the Sopranos, like potentially all of us, are taken out instantly and violently. It punctuates what Sopranos producer David Chase is saying throughout the episode: that the oil-dependent USA has lost, or is losing, its war on terror. Like the Yeats’ poem, the ending to one of America's most popular television dramas is decidedly apocalyptic.