BY: JERRY P

Decline, deterioration, and death: these are the words that come to mind when I reflect on the tenor of season six of The Sopranos. And the ending, which was so controversial and upset so many people, ends with an accent on family.

Which makes sense, as it is the other major strand of the series, one half of the braid that makes up the thematic elements of the show - the other being, of course, the Italian gangster. Tony Soprano may survive, which probably disappoints those who wanted Tony to receive comeuppance for all the evil he dealt to others. Such is the desire of the moralists in the audience.

On the other hand, the chief soldiers aren’t as lucky as the Big Pizza. Christopher, Bobby, Silvio, are either dead or basket cases, and Tony’s adversaries in crime - Johnny Sack and Phil Leotardo - are also in their graves, sacked by cancer or  the usual method of elimination, a shot to the head.

A number of minor characters bite the Jersey dust as well. Junior’s deterioration continues: he gives into the system, accepts his fate, takes their drugs, and quits thinking about escaping the nuthouse. He has his room, his nightly candy bar and his television; he’s content with that. Even Dr. Melfi finally shows Tony the door in the final episode, as her colleagues tell her the latest studies indicate talk therapy with a sociopath like Tony Soprano does more harm than good; it only reinforces his distorted values rather than reforms his personality. (It sure took her long enough to come to that conclusion.)

And even the restaurant the mobsters used to meet at experienced a death: it was torn down as soon as the final scene was shot, to be replaced by an apartment building to be called ‘The Sopranos.’

There are two wingding fights in the sixth season, one a doozy of a drunken brawl between Bobby and Tony that Bobby wins, which annoys Tony. He makes Bobby pay in another way, to even the score. Tony may have lost fair and square, but Bobby needs to know who is the boss. The other fight is a shouting match between Tony and Carmelo that almost comes to blows. Actually, the family focus is mostly on A.J., who loses his Spanish girl friend, falls into depression, and attempts suicide; he is sent to a mental ward where he meets a girl he knew in high school and they become friends, then lovers. The first time they try to make love in his SUV, it goes up in flames, which is pretty funny. Meadow drops out of Med school, which is very disappointing to Carmelo, who has projected her own frustration onto her daughter; she's supposed to succeed in a prestigious profession like Carmelo never had a chance too. Meadow falls for the son of another mobster, which indicates she'll likely live a life similar to her mother. A.J. becomes more aware of current events and is angered by them, and tells his parents he wants to join the Army. They cut that wish off at the pass by finding him a job as a gopher with a film company - anything to keep him out of harm’s way. One doubts that either kid will grow up to amount to much: the Soprano karma is a heavy load for the siblings.

Tony goes through an interesting dynamic through the final nine episodes. In the first few, much is made of the aftermath of the trauma he experienced when Junior gut-shot him and he had that lengthy hospital stay and recovery. He thinks the trauma took a lot out of him - “I am not the man I used to be.” This is the decline I referred to at the beginning. But in truth there isn’t much evidence of it through the later episodes. He is still the strong leader, the guy who makes all the decisions, and the same 'ol rough-and-tumble gangster he always was.

He also still likes to chase after younger women. He goes to Vegas by himself and hooks up with a very attractive escort girl, who gets him high, first with pot and then with Peyote. They drive out to Red Rock Park, which is west of the city; they watch a sunset while stoned on Peyote and gaze at a scene that rivals the awesomeness and beauty of the Grand Canyon. He experiences something he has a hard time explaining. He tells his old shrink he knew that there was something more to life then what we think is reality; it was as if he has been granted a peek behind the painted scenery of ordinary reality. He doesn't want to say any more than that. It's quite enough for someone like Tony Soprano. It seems to renew his strength; he needed it in order to deal with all the deaths of associates dying all around him.

I think there is a special place for “The Sopranos” in film history; it is television’s equivalent to Francis Ford Coppola’s “Godfather” saga. It is equal in quality. Part of me hated to see the Soprano saga come to its terminal point. I felt sad, as I had always looked forward to seeing each chapter as they became available on DVD. It was one hell of a ride, a drama head and shoulders above all others on television. And I will miss some of the characters, like Paulie and Silvio, so absurd but funny and colorful. The big question is whether James Gandolfini can ever transcend his role as Tony Soprano? It won’t be easy.

For JERRY PFAFFL, writing about movies is an act of love and exaltation. Once a week while growing up he and his brother were taken to the neigborhood theater by thier parents to see second-run movies. He remembers sitting in the dark and being utterly mesmerized by noir thrillers, technicolor musicals, Westerns, and Biblical epics. When he was a college student he discovered the wonder of foreign movies and how more daring subject matter was possible. When he was teaching at UNLV he founded CINEMA X, a film society devoted to the showing of contemporary experimental films. When he was working at Bookmans on Ina he was in charge of the Video and DVD department and his nametag read "The Movie Guy." In sum, movies have always been his passion.