TV's finest drama cuts to black

art I of season six of HBO's "The Sopranos" saw the New York and New Jersey families preparing for what would either be a transcendent ascension to legitimacy or a long, dark descent into the abyss. Despite the occasional jovial mood of the first few episodes of Part II, there's no avoiding the inevitable descent, as the two families set out on a collision course for each other like two of Bobby Bacala's toy trains on the same track.\nSome of the series' finest acting, writing and cinematography can be found in these final nine episodes as Tony struggles with his son's depression, wife's expectations, daughter's life decisions and therapist's misgivings about treating him. And then there's the family business. All the hallmarks of the finest Greek tragedy are on display as the New Jersey and New York crews hurdle toward their final confrontation, and there's no denying the emotional and visceral power of watching it all come crashing down on top of these beloved and maligned characters. This is television at its finest.\nSeveral cast and crew commentary tracks and a couple of quick featurettes (covering the series' music cues and Christopher's slasher film "Cleaver") represent the supplemental content on this set, and they don't make the $70 I paid for nine episodes any easier to swallow. Still, for longtime fans of the series, watching the last moments we'll ever see in the lives of Tony, Carmela, Meadow, A.J., Paulie, Silvio, Christopher, Bobby, Janice, Uncle Junior and Dr. Melfi is utterly priceless.\nAs for the much-discussed final scene of "The Sopranos," it could not have been a more perfect ending, and I question whether fans who were out for Tony's blood to be shed in front of his family during dinner at Holsten's Confectionery were actually fans all along. As Journey's "Don't Stop Believin'" (perhaps, oddly, the most poignant musical choice in the series' history) plays and Tony's family arrives in staggered fashion, there's an uneasy sense of peace as Tony senses subtle danger all around him. It's a rare first-person look inside the paranoid head of a man who's shared his feelings outwardly through six brilliant seasons.\nWhat happened when that screen cut to black? I say nothing. In walks Meadow, the FBI continues to loom large, Tony's crew has been thinned some, relations with New York are good, and, in the immortal words of Steve Perry, "the movie never ends, it goes on and on and on and on ..."