The Sopranos

[Michael]

I don't want it to come back either. What made this show so great all these years was the fantastic ensemble cast of characters and now that most of them have been killed off, I don't want any more.
It really was a good ending

[Michael]

The more I think about it, the more I think it was the perfect ending. Everyone had a prediction and no one got it right (or wrong for that matter). I am glad it is over. I don't want a sequel. I didn't want to see them murdered (even though I think that is what the blackout was all about) and like having my last memory of them at dinner. I am still puzzling over Meadow's many attempts at parallel parking. Those last five minutes were fraught with tension (well done). Good job. Good ending. Great series.

[Jem]

From Tim Goodman

"Sopranos" series finale: "This thing of ours"

Warning, unless you want to be massively spoiled on the machinations of "The Sopranos" finale, do NOT read this until you've watched.

What follows is the series finale wrap-up story that will appear in The Chronicle on Monday. At the end, I've added a whole lot of extra stuff that won't appear in the paper, including quotes from the show and some additional analysis. Enjoy. And thanks for coming on this strange, wild and mostly rewarding blogging trip as we deconstructed "The Sopranos."

No, your cable - or satellite - didn't go out. The ending of "The Sopranos" was both perfect and annoying as creator David Chase chose, once again, to upend the conventions of television by cutting (not fading) to black at an unpredictable, tense-filled moment.

Just like that, it was over.

No doubt millions of people around the country leapt to their feet, thinking that the worst possible technical glitch had happened at the worst possible time. But this was no "gotcha" moment from Chase, who created and nurtured one of the greatest series in television history, but rather a director's choice that was something close to perfect. He gave a gift to critics who wished that "The Sopranos" would just end, without melodrama or crisply tied-up storylines, but more like a camera shutting off. And it did.

That it was a pivotal scene, replete with a tension-filled tease worthy of repeated viewings, will only ratchet up some people's annoyance. In an episode that opened like so many "Sopranos" episodes in this final season - with Tony waking up in bed - there was an ever-so-slight release of pressure at first. Tony Soprano, hiding out in a safe house after the New York family led by Phil Leotoardo waged war on Tony's New Jersey family, woke up alive. A lot of "Sopranos" fans thought an all-out assault on the safe house would kick off the episode, perhaps led by a tip from a rat in Tony's crew.

Wrong.

But just because Tony woke up alive didn't mean he'd survive. And the final "Sopranos" episode ever had much in the way of taut, agitating moments. A peace was brokered with New York, Phil was killed (an ordinary whacking followed by a brutal scene where his head is crushed under a car tire), and all that is eventually left is the almost predictable news that the Feds had flipped a member of Tony's crew and were typing up subpoenas at a furious pace.

Chase had always let Tony talk freely of what happens to mobsters - most end up in jail, the others dead. Period. But that didn't stop fans from thinking up elaborate, often far-fetched endings.
Though Tony was fearful of what the Feds had and what a member of his crew - Carlo - could supply them, his attorney said flatly that trials are made to be won. So viewers were left with a major unanswered question - does Tony go to jail or get off?

But that's nothing at all like the question every viewer had on their minds as they entered this last hour - will Tony live or die? Jail? Who cares. This was a matter of life and death.

And that, precisely, is what Chase preyed on in the finale (which he wrote and directed). As Tony met his family - each one driving separately - at a diner, there was an ominous sense of doom. Tony, alone at a booth, flipped through the counter jukebox and selected, appropriately enough, Journey's "Don't Stop Believing." (Music and the lyrics of the songs chosen by Chase have been an integral part of "The Sopranos" and this was no different.) But viewers, wary that something could still happen to Tony - and no doubt moved to the edge of their seats by the dramatic score that preceded Journey - had to bear witness to Tony looking up, vulnerable, every time the door to the diner slammed open.

It was maddening. First, Carmela (though there was a glimpse of a woman who looked like Tony's sister Janice, and a large number of fans thought she’d be the one to off Tony), then, later, A.J. Except when A.J. arrived he was slightly behind a man who looked for all the world like he was there to hit Tony. The man sat at the counter and periodically eyed Tony and his family. The tension rose - highlighted by a beautifully choreographed scene where daughter Meadow arrives but has all kinds of trouble parallel-parking out front, which prolongs the scene. Is she going to walk in just as the guy at the counter kills her father or slaughters her family? Will Meadow be the one to survive? Before she enters the diner - still parking, in an excruciating but now somehow funny scene - the man at the counter walks toward Tony and the...passes. He heads to the bathroom. Next in the door - another two characters who could be hired thugs. But no. Then, finally, the camera slowed as Meadow marches across the street to the diner, and we see Tony looking down, the sound of the door pushed open is heard, he raises his head (apparently seeing Meadow) then touches the top of the counter jukebox just as Journey singer Steve Perry says, "Don't stop..." - and the screen goes shockingly to black, with no sound whatsoever.

The end.

It was like Tony hit the snooze button on an alarm clock. And in some way, he did. Our glimpse into the lives of the Soprano family ended in that instant. But the implication is that life for Tony Soprano goes on, and we'll all just have to guess at the end. Conviction or innocence? Mistrial? He gets hit by a bus or has a heart attack? Who knows? We'll never know. And it's better that way. If you're thinking there's a movie in the works, think again. It was supposed to end like this. Sunday night was not a cliffhanger waiting for a movie.

The perfect element to the final scene - other than scaring the bejesus out of most of the country and prompting calls to local cable companies - is that we don't know what happens. There is no answer. But at the same time, Tony has his family around him - and "The Sopranos" has always been a show about families. Carmela is there, slightly agitated, slightly distant. You'd be hard pressed to say there was anything different about her in that moment than any we'd seen in the previous seasons. A.J. was there, having survived his SUV igniting a patch of leaves in the forest just as he was going to have sex (so perfectly random and perfectly A.J. as to need no more discussion). He had temporarily thought of joining the Army to fight the war on terror (a thematic backdrop to the recent "Sopranos" season) but was talked, or lured out of it by his coddling parents, who set him up with a cush film job and the promise that they might front the money for him to open his own club. Again, perfectly A.J., perfectly Soprano family parenting.

Then Meadow arrived, the last of the brood, having finally and maddeningly double-parked the car. She appears headed to marriage with Patrick Parisi, son of one of Tony's crew, with a high paying job in criminal law up ahead of her. It's not the doctor job Tony had envisioned for her, but he's indirectly responsible for that, as Meadow told him over dinner that she wanted to defend minorities mistreated by the justice system: "If I hadn't seen you dragged away all those times by the FBI, then I'd probably be a boring suburban doctor."

And so, we get more or less what was expected besides the oddly edited ending. Tony's family is around him. Life, such as it is for a mobster facing possible criminal indictment, goes on.

Chase managed, with this ending, to be true to reality (Tony's lawyer said earlier in the episode, "It's not like we haven't envisioned this day") while also steering clear of trite TV conventions. Tony wasn't killed in a blaze of gunfire. Multiple plotlines were left unresolved (like life). There was no hugging, no moral lesson, no pat ending.
It just ended. Before a lot of people wanted it to, but with a clever Chase-like nod to the unknown.

More bits after the break:

Were you surprised that Tony survived the night? I wasn't. I figured he'd live and get Phil. And I hoped, but didn't know it would happen (and certainly not happen the way it did) that David Chase would close the window on this series without a truly satisfying ending. Why not? It's like life.

When Tony was eating the orange - "Godfather" alert! - I was really, really worried. Same goes for the orange cat. Jesus. Stop with the herrings, Chase.

Tony on A.J.'s girlfriend: "I wouldn't kick her out of bed for eating fudge and cookies." A.J.: "We're just friends." Tony: "I know. Nice work." The eye roll was perfect.

A.J. quoted "Yeets" instead of Yeats. Oh, A.J., don't ever change, baby.

When A.J. was having his long-delayed life awakening and using Iraq as the blunt instrument to his conscience (not just consciousness), he said that Bush let Al-Queda get away, which prompted Paulie to say, "Oh!" in that way of his which we'll miss like nothing else.

The TV on in the background, an old episode of "The Twilight Zone," a man says: "The television industry today is looking for talent, they're looking for quality. They are preoccupied with talent and quality. And the writer is a major commodity." I know that some people will interpret this as Chase patting himself (or even HBO) on the back, but I think what he was really doing was tweaking the industry as the possibly very damaging writer's strike looms. Everybody in the business has the writer's strike on their minds. And if it happens, it's going to be bad.

Lately "The Sopranos" - and Chase, one would assume - has been preoccupied with the past and how it was better than the present. Now, you can smirk that this is just another gripe from people getting old and nostalgic, from "the greatest generation" to suddenly age-conscious Boomers, but an argument can be made in every generation that, sans wonderful, helpful technological developments, things really ARE worse. In the finale there's a lament that Little Italy used to be a sprawling neighborhood, now it's reduced to "one block of shops and cafes." And A.J.'s rants about America and what immigrants will find when they get here - a fascination with "bling" and things they don't really need. A week earlier, Bacala lamented over the trains he was buying that, back in the day, they ran in a better time. This theme has been consistent for many episodes.

Phil: "Are you talking about reaching out? We can't go back. Are you out of your f-ing mind?!"

Phil is mad at Butchie for maybe botching the Soprano crew killings. "He should have been first," Phil says of Tony. And then he hints that Butchie is going to be in trouble. Not a wise move. The interesting part of that scene, of course, is that when Butchie hangs up, he's in Chinatown.

Janice: "I had therapy. I'm a good mother. I put Ma and all that warped sh-t behind me."

More on the old days are better thing: An appreciation of Bob Dylan. Says A.J.'s girlfriend: "It's amazing it was written so long ago."

Don't know about you, but I loved that A.J.'s car caught on fire when he was about to get laid. Tony: "How many times have I told you! It's an SUV. Watch where you park off road! The catalytic converter and the dry vegetation." Man, the humor of this series will never get its proper due.

I was also happy that all these theories about A.J. stepping up and killing Tony or killing Phil didn't happen. It would have been unbelievable. A.J. is an enormous wuss. He was incapable of killing Uncle Junior in a mental hospital when he was unarmed. He wasn't made for this game. And the series properly sent him out as a messed up, spoiled rich kid who can't see beyond his own wants and desires. He was always pampered and coddled. Why change that. And so it was funny when he said, of no new car from the family: "That's good. It'll force me to take the bus. We have to break our dependence on foreign oil." And, as it was so beautifully shot, we find out he gets a nice BMW from the folks when he starts his cushy, ridiculous job with Little Carmine. "They had to get it for me. There's no public transit our there. but I said, 'No more SUV.'"

The thing about the brokered deal will no doubt annoy some people. But the fact is, you can't say it would never happen. Sometimes the easiest course is taken. But that scene was tense. I kept thinking it was going to be a blindsided attack, a bloodbath. When you could hear the steel door rising in the back, I kept thinking, "Is that Phil? Who is that?"

Carlo's dumbass kid gets nailed in Mexico for selling (or importing) ecstasy. Carlo flips. You do what you need to protect your family.

Come on, we all thought the same thing, right: When A.J. was in therapy, his female therapist had her leg crossed just like Melfi. It was even shot the same way.

Tony to A.J. as he talks about the Army: "You could get sent to Iraq." A.J.: "Afghanistan." (Also perfectly A.J.) And then again: "The Army's probably good for my career." Tony: You don't have a career!"

A.J. wants to be a helicopter pilot and then "afterward go to work for Trump or somebody. Be their personal pilot."

Later he says he could turn those skills into working for the CIA or whatnot. "As an Arabic speaker, I'd be really useful." Just for the record, that's the line I laughed hardest at. (He spent $200 on Al-Queda tapes to learn Arabic.)

Tony: "You going to just ask The Donald for some time off?"

Of his interest in the Army, A.J.'s therapist tells Tony and Carmela: "He said he wants to get past the hate. Focus it only on the terrorists." The look on their faces - perfect.

But even better was Tony effortlessly slipping back into therapy, freely opening up to A.J.'s therapist while Carmela's look of disdain and disbelief said it all about Tony. And then this perfect Chase chestnut to wrap up the Tony/therapy angle concisely: "You see, I never could please my mother."

Absolutely perfect and one of the few conclusions we actually got from Chase.

The Phil hit: Planned. Patiently. Efficient. Then ugly. The wheel crushing his head and the babies in the backseat and the kids vomiting as they saw it - wow. Graphic. We got our money's worth on that.

I also loved how it all ended with Uncle Junior. I would have been pleased to see his storyline end the way I though it had - petting the cat at the hospital after being beaten up by the crazy nutjob kid. But Chase kept it going - moving him from pampered facilities to stark, state facilities as his mind eroded - let's not forget that Uncle Junior pretended to be crazy to avoid jail. The scene of him slipping in and out of remembering Tony was nice, especially when Tony says the magic words to get him to focus: "This thing of ours."

And that's where we'll end. I'll have another post (or two) on "The Sopranos" this week, because I know viewers will have a lot to talk about. Two things. 1) If you want to leave a message (a short one) about "The Sopranos" on my TV Talk Machine podcast line, call toll free from anywhere: 1-888-SFC-TVTM. We'll dedicate this coming week's episode just to those comments. And 2) If you're feeling bummed about the end of the series or this finale in general, let me quote A.J. quoting Tony: "Focus on the good times. Isn't that what you said one time? Try and remember the things that were good."

[Michael]

I liked this post on the NYTimes message board:

The more I think about it, the more I think Chase ended it on an artistic high note. It was brilliant. Tony got whacked. But at least his family was with him at the end, and the last thing he saw was his daughter. I think Chase is offering the possibility that at the end, there isn't a fade from this scene to another one that is bathed in white light and has our long-gone relatives waiting for us with open arms. It's a smash cut to black. When it's over, it's over. Oh, and by the way, you won't know what happened. As for people who want “closureâ€

[Belmondo]

For me, the final scenes only work if we are seeing the last couple of minutes of Tony's life.

If not, then the editing, the build up of tension and the abrupt cut to black are the worst kind of trick and the dumbest kind of joke - your cable just went out and you missed the end.

Wasn't there a scene earlier this season where a character (I forget who) gets whacked in a restaurant and the sound drops out for a few seconds? This could have been foreshadowing for the final scene.

It's closure for me - Tony sleeps with the onion rings, I mean fishes.

[colinr0380]

Perhaps the constant tension, paranoia and depression at the state of his life and family caused Tony to flip out, and he was just sizing up targets and waiting for Meadow to arrive before he went gun crazy in the restaurant?

[flyonthewall2983]

Wasn't there a scene earlier this season where a character (I forget who) gets whacked in a restaurant and the sound drops out for a few seconds? This could have been foreshadowing for the final scene.

It's closure for me - Tony sleeps with the onion rings, I mean fishes.

I believe that too, despite only reading about the scene and the whole final episode. My other theory (remember, didn't see it) is that the ominous looking man in the cafe really is working for the Feds and they're waiting for the right moment to arrest them all.

[flyonthewall2983]

from imdb.com

Rocker Steve Perry refused to let The Sopranos creator David Chase use his classic song "Don't Stop Believin'" in the mob show's final scene until he knew the fate of the drama's leading characters. The ex-Journey frontman kept Chase waiting until three days before the long-awaited finale aired in America on Sunday. Perry is a huge Sopranos fan and feared his 1981 rock anthem would be remembered as the soundtrack to the death of James Gandolfini's character Tony Soprano - until Chase assured him that wouldn't be the case. Perry says, "The request came in a few weeks ago and it wasn't until Thursday that it got approval, because I was concerned. I was not excited about (the possibility of) the Soprano family being whacked to 'Don't Stop Believin''. Unless I know what happens - and I will swear to secrecy - I can't in good conscience feel good about its use." And Perry was so true to his word, he didn't even tell his family the song featured in the finale. He adds, "I didn't want to blow it. Even my wife didn't know. She looked at me and said, 'You knew that and you didn't tell me?'"

[Hai2u]

From Michael Cavna

Eureka! Solving 'The Sopranos'

I get it!

Or, to quote the jubilant Tony Soprano in the desert dawn, after waking next
to his own Little Miss Sunshine: "I GET IT!" I've heard the Word, and the
message is: Tony dies.

How do I know? Because one single image from last week's finale of "The
Sopranos" had dogged me, pestered me, miffled me for days: The shot from the
final scene immediately after Tony enters the eatery -- as the jump-cut
allows us to view this father at a table, surrounded by a dozen or so
diners.

That extreme horizontal framing. That central figure bathed in light. Those
four framed rectangles in the background, with people all around.

Finally, it hit me like a bolt from the black. (As capo Bobby Bacala said on
the boat this season: You probably won't even see/hear it coming.) Series
creator David Chase, like Coppola and Scorsese and other great
religion-steeped directors, was invoking a centuries-old painting that
depicts a biblical scene.

That's right. His Last Scene is . . . The Last Supper.

Doubting my own eyes for a minute (hel-lo, Paulie Walnuts), I asked two
other people to compare the painting and the screen image, and they --
eerily -- saw it, too. Eureka.

The Chasean catch: His shot looks less like da Vinci's depiction and much
more like the 15th-century "Last Supper" painting by Andrea del Castagno,
right down to the red-frocked person immediately flanking the central
figure.

Once the viewer makes that connection, all the religious references, like
tumblers, click into place. Of course, we must be mindful of Chase's earlier
caveat that everything is upside-down in the dark and dying world -- or
rather, Underworld -- of "The Sopranos." Tony Soprano, the God/Father, has
lorded over a crew of disciples, he's just endured a betrayer (Carlo), and
now he sits at the table of corruption, having converted his children for
good.

Rough beast slouching toward Bethlehem, indeed. Herewith, the show's Twelve
Cinematic Clues:

1. In a previous scene, Tony mocks Paulie Walnuts for seeing the Virgin Mary
at the Bing. (Fun unrelated touch, btw: "Italian Sausage" sign is partially
obscured to read: "Italian USA" -- a whole other show-theme.)

2. In another walk-up scene, the wife of Silvio lovingly tends and tidies
her comatose husband's feet (nice Mary Magdalene moment).

3. Immediately before entering the diner, Tony's identity is denied by his
Uncle Junior. (Tony: "You don't know who I am, do you?")

4. Tony then enters Holsten's diner (swell allusion to famed Swedish
theologian Holsten Fagerberg, he of the Lutheran confessions).

5. To start the family's literal last supper, Tony orders a bread-and-wine
Eucharist "for the whole table" (though the "made in the USA" version: onion
rings and soda).

6. After looking at such song titles as "Magic Man (Live)" -- twice -- on
the tabletop jukebox, Tony selects "Don't Stop Believing."

7. Wife Carmela (perfect name) enters and asks him: See anything that looks
good? (Sound the trumpets of Genesis.)

8. Tony tells Carmela that his betrayer, Carlo (the one earlier seen eyeing
the roast pork at the wake), is "going to testify."

9. Over Tony's shoulder, we clearly see a name on the wall: Phillip
(name-checking one of Christ's disciples, naturally -- make whatever you
will out of "Super Dave.").

10. The menacing Mystery Man in the Members Only jacket walks in after we've
heard the third bell; Chase has acknowledged that his Members Only reference
(also an episode title this season) is symbolic of being a member of the mob
-- that is, one of the Godfather's disciples.

11. Each of Tony's children are "finally" career-corrupted in this episode:
the parking-challenged Meadow, after many moral stops and starts (switching
from healer to future defender of mob-connected folk); A.J. after agreeing
to produce the would-be Antichrist's script, "Anti-Virus." And,
significantly, they arrive at the table separately, of their own volition.
(Carmela the Realtor -- she was once tempted by a priest -- of course
earlier cashed her last moral chips by selling her not-built-to-spec house
with help from Tony; minutes earlier, we'd seen her looking over a home
brochure.)

12. And Chase -- as HBO confirms -- originally wanted to conclude the series
with a full three minutes of cut-to-black screen. As in, the three minutes
of silence commonly observed to mourn a victim -- and perhaps representing
the three days before Christ's rising as the Bible describes.

So textured. So layered. So Coppola. And (if one pathetically can't recall
his art history for days), perhaps so damned subtle.

So render unto David DeCesare Chase what is his: A delicious last meal of a
scene stuffed and battered with religious imagery. Only here, at the center
of the table of underworld conversion, Chase has cast a rough, end-times
beast who fatally pinched Christopher (again, perfect name).

So to connect the dots: If the Last Supper was on the eve of Christ's arrest
and imminent death, then Chase is indicating that Tony Soprano's death is
imminent, too.

So there you have it. For those who cared most about that ultimate plot
point, we have rendered sure cinematic judgment: Tony dies. (Do you care to
deny us, Mr. Chase?) Now, the only remaining question: Will Tony be risen on
the big screen?

Now, it's your turn. As we wash our hands of our ruling, we ask you: What
are your thoughts, theories and verdicts? . . .

-- Michael Cavna, TV Editor, Style

[Alonzo the Armless]

Tony Soprano didn't just get whacked; he practically got a funeral

[flyonthewall2983]

HBO should have given Chase the 3 minutes at the end. It's the least that network could have done for him.

[Cosmic Bus]

Hai2u (or anyone else): do you have a direct link to that Cavna post? I'd like to send it along to someone.

[Alonzo the Armless]

Here you go, Cosmic Bus.

[Cosmic Bus]

Thank you. I tried searching on the W.Post's site, but that never came up.

[justeleblanc]

I don't want to introduce politics to this forum, but I found thisto be post-worthy.

[jedgeco]

I'm not typically someone to say that something is being over analyzed, but the final scene is being over analyzed. Moreover, shoehorning events of "Made in America" into the Last Supper is strained at best. To wit:

His shot looks less like da Vinci's depiction and much
more like the 15th-century "Last Supper" painting by Andrea del Castagno

Sorry, any similarities are superficial, as Castagno's painting is composed in a long horizontal tableaux just like Da Vinci's, not in a compact frame with the characters facing one another. And where is this supposed "red frocked person"?

he's just endured a betrayer (Carlo), and now he sits at the table of corruption, having converted his children for good.

Christ was betrayed after the Last Supper. And how does a "table of corruption" fit at all in the story of the Last Supper?

Tony's identity is denied by his Uncle Junior.

Again, something that happened after the Last Supper, not before.

Tony orders a bread-and-wine Eucharist "for the whole table"

Christ passed the cup after breaking the bread; the Cokes came to the table long before the onion rings.

Similarities to the Last Supper? Sure, but they're superficial and to the point where you'd have to say that any filmed meal is a reference to the Last Supper, and the similarities certainly aren't to the point where it's "evidence" of Tony's death. It also can't explain why such a "last" supper is such because Tony dies and not just because, well, it's the end of the show.

Moreover, those advocating the "Tony got wacked" theory still have to explain (1) who had the motivation to kill Tony (nobody), and, more importantly (2) why Chase would end the series with such a cheap stunt that is so at odds with everything else the series was doing. "The Sopranos" has never been a puzzle to "figure out" (take that shit over to "Lost" or "John from Cincinatti" if you insist.) You can't look at a couple of onion rings and ignore the 85 hours and 55 minutes that preceded them.

I've said it elsewhere but I'll say it again: If we're supposed to take the ending as Tony dying, it impoverishes the whole affair. The story's over; you, the viewer, don't get to be a part of it anymore. You never saw it coming. Why the insistence on tidying it up so badly? But, I guess as the song says, "any way you want it, that's the way you need it."

[Fletch F. Fletch]

Definitive explanation of the end.

It's quite a lengthy read but definitely worth it. This article goes into great detail about the last scene, what it all means, and what really happened to Tony. It seems like a pretty sound argument to me.

[Belmondo]

Definitive explanation of the end.

It's quite a lengthy read but definitely worth it. This article goes into great detail about the last scene, what it all means, and what really happened to Tony. It seems like a pretty sound argument to me.

Vindication! I came to that conclusion a few posts up almost exactly one year ago today and in fifty words or less.
Anybody ready to take another great leap and share my view that "One From the Heart" is among Coppola's great movies?
Alright, get back to me in year.

[Matt]

The complete series set is Amazon's Gold Box deal of the day: $149.99.

[kaujot]

God, I have enough to buy it, but then not enough to, you know, live.

[aox]

Didn't know where to put this since the show may have started in '99, but seems more of a '00s show.

Officially announced on BD:

http://www.hollywoodreporter.com/live-f ... rst-708358" onclick="window.open(this.href);return false;

:dbt



All six seasons of the James Gandolfini drama will be released in a collectible boxed set on Nov. 4 for a suggested retail price of $279.98. All 86 episodes of the Emmy, Golden Globe and Peabody Award-winning series will come on 28 Blu-ray discs in an elegant box featuring artwork from the series.

Included in the set is a free digital HD copy of every episode and more than five hours of bonus material including lost scenes, two roundtable dinners with the cast and crew, 25 audio commentaries as well as a new and exclusive featurette exploring how The Sopranos was created and ultimately transformed the TV landscape.

[mfunk9786]

The packaging is a bit of a bummer considering how nice of a job HBO usually does. Anyway, I'll just keep watching shows that'd otherwise cost an MSRP of nearly $300 on HBO Go, but this seems pretty great for those who still haven't seen this series.

[flyonthewall2983]

The packaging makes me wonder if they'll release the seasons individually eventually.

[domino harvey]

There is nothing wrong with that packaging. I wish more studios took the hint to stop putting discs into fucking slots and just package them in normal cases for complete series sets

[flyonthewall2983]

Amen. The recent cheap-o edition of the complete series of The Shield has all the discs in two opposing spindles. Not much risk of disc damage, but it's a bitch trying to keep them all organized if you're wanting to marathon it all.