Marion Cotillard (Getty Images)

There’s another week left in the New York Film Festival—but we’re headed out of town! Last-gasp tumbleweeds like us aren’t going to be anywhere near Lincoln Center today. After our morning coffee (iced—we’re already waxing nostalgic for summer) at Golden Pear, we’ll be heading to the Hamptons International Film Festival, where today’s screenings include early Oscar front-runner Marion Cotillard in Rust and Bone (she plays an amputee who has a transformative epiphany while Katy Perry’s “Firework” plays—we kid you not), Helen Hunt’s comeback role as a sex worker employed by an iron lung-bound paralytic in The Sessions and closing night film Not Fade Away, directed by The Sopranos capo di tutti David Chase. Sure, they’ll be in theaters by December—but any excuse to head out to the Hamptons this close to Columbus Day is good enough for us.

Various locations, tickets and information can be found at hamptonsfilmfest.org.

Mr. Chase proved that theory again this week. Making the rounds for a brand new DVD release of The Sopranos--a 33 disc set that weights ten pounds and costs close to $300 dollars!--the 63-year-old continued on his steadfast refusal to answer questions on the one thing every Sopranos fans want to know about: the ending. In an interview with the LA Times, Mr. Chase stated that "[t]here are just people who want this closure, and I don't have that." Ugh! Really David? We hate to burst your bubble here, but you wrote the ending! You could give people closure this minute if you wanted to. However, if you did that, no one would care about The Sopranos anymore beyond the fact that it was a great and historic television show. It would fade away into the sunset.

It seems to us that since ending his series, Mr. Chase has turned into that pretentious band that had an early hit and then tries to distance themselves from that hit for the rest of their careers. It's fine if you don't play to the crowd, but you don't have to be such a jerk about it! We actually don't care whether Tony Soprano lived or died (ps, he totally lived!), but by not giving any answers, Mr. Chase comes off as ungrateful, spiteful and immature.

Meanwhile, The Sopranos ended nearly eighteen months ago and Mr. Chase still has yet to set a follow-up project. He does have a feature film production deal with Paramount, but don't get your hopes up; he's not planning on making a Sopranos movie. (And to that we say: Thank God.) Instead he'll center his immense talents on an original idea that reportedly could focus on one of three topics: acting, movies or rock music. No matter what he decides on, one thing is certain... the film won't end with a Journey song.

The Associated Press reports:

As we reported yesterday, Mr. Baer, a budding screenwriter and onetime prosecutor, claimed that he was not adequately compensated for helping Mr. Chase in 1995, when he was developing the pilot episode. Mr. Baer apparently arranged for the writer-producer to meet with several mafia experts during a tour of New Jersey, Mr. Chase’s native state. Both the Sopranos creator and Mr. Baer testified that the latter man turned down Mr. Chase’s offers to pay him thrice. He did, however, claim that Mr. Chase said he would “take care of him” if they show was a success.

Twelve years ago, it seems, he collaborated with a man named Robert Baer, a budding screenwriter and former prosecutor who set up meetings between Mr. Chase and mafia experts during a tour of the Garden State.

Mr. Baer, in part, claims that he was not adequately paid for his services—assistance that may have led to the show’s foundational plot. Asserting ownership of the pilot’s core themes, Mr. Chase, a New Jersey native, told the judge that he has been fascinated with the mob ever since watching The Untouchables. (Whether he was referring to the 1959 TV series or the 1987 Brian De Palma feature film was not made clear.)

As if quoting Tony Soprano, Mr. Baer said he declined payment from Mr. Chase several times in 1995, if only because the series’ creator assured him that he would “take care of him” in due time. Likewise, the screenwriter has called the hired helper “self-delusional” in legal papers. [AP]

'The Sopranos' took home the Best Drama award, and creator David Chase and director Alan Taylor won for writing and directing.

But in a big upset, favorite James Gandolfini lost to James Spader of 'Boston Legal.'

'30 Rock' took home its single primetime award--but it was a big one: Best Comedy. During their acceptance speech Tina Fey thanked the show's 'dozens' of viewers and thanked NBC's Zucker for sticking with the show.

Altogether the program was its usual mix of bathos and strained humor. But in case you still feel like you missed, something, after the jump is the exhaustive, chronological account put out by the show's organizers. It has a similarly strange, incantatory charm to the show itself.

59th Primetime Emmys Announced

Sopranos, 30 Rock Take Top Series Honors

Los Angeles, September 16, 2007 — An notorious crime family, a fictional sketch-comedy show, an iconic singer, and a female British detective were among the big winners at the 59th Primetime Emmy Awards, which took place at the Shrine Auditorium in Los Angeles and was telecast on the Fox network. Host for the ceremony was American Idol host Ryan Seacrest.

Other highlights included a 30th anniversary tribute to a groundbreaking miniseries and a moving musical send-off to one of the most celebrated series in television history.

Among the twenty-nine categories honored, ABC, NBC and HBO topped the list of winners with six winged statuettes each. Combined with their awards at last Saturday’s Creative Arts Emmys, the three networks led for the year as well: HBO earned twenty-one, NBC nineteen and ABC ten.

The Sopranos, HBO’s acclaimed production about the travails of a New Jersey crime boss and his intertwined biological and criminal families took the prize for Outstanding Drama Series, and 30 Rock, NBC’s look at the backstage activity at a late-night sketch-comedy show, was named Outstanding Comedy Series.

The Sopranos, the HBO movie Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee, the AMC miniseries Broken Trail and the PBS Masterpiece Theatre production Prime Suspect: The Final Act led the recipients of multiple awards with three each.

The ABC comedy Ugly Betty took two, including Outstanding Lead Actress in a Comedy Series for its star, America Ferrera. Ricky Gervais, creator and star of HBO’s Extras, took Outstanding Lead Actor in a Comedy Series.

James Spader, of ABC’s law-firm saga Boston Legal, took the award for Outstanding Lead Actor in a Drama Series and Sally Field, of ABC’s Brothers & Sisters, was named Outstanding Lead Actress in a Drama Series.

In the aftermath of last year’s Primetime Emmys, the Academy of Television Arts & Sciences’ board of governors made adjustments to the voting procedures, most notably a move to give equal weight to the results of the Blue Ribbon judging panels that had been instituted in 2006 and the Academy-wide vote, as opposed to last year, when the results of the panels were given priority.

The changes resulted in what was generally regarded as a broader, more representative list of nominees — including thirty-three first-timers — lending a fresh perspective to this year’s proceedings.

A fresh perspective was also evident Sunday evening at the Shrine courtesy of a circular stage, a Primetime Emmys first, which lent an intimate, theater-in-the-round feel to the proceedings by bringing seats directly to the main presentation and performance area.

Staging a three-hour award show involving dozens of presenters and multiple production numbers without the comfort zone of a conventional proscenium-arch stage configuration was a logistical challenge, but executive producer Ken Ehrlich invested in a blue-chip insurance policy when he hired the unflappable Seacrest. Having hosted Fox’s top-rated American Idol — a nominee for Outstanding Reality Competition Series — since its inception, he is a veteran at guiding a live television show in front of millions of viewers.

The show opened with animated sequence featuring a television-skewering song titled “If You Want It You Can Find It on TV,” performed by Brian the talking dog and conversant infant Stewie Griffin of the Fox comedy Family Guy, prepared for the ceremonies by the show’s executive producer Seth MacFarlane.

Next came the introduction of Seacrest, who emerged from beneath the stage. Adding Emmy hosting to his resume, Seacrest would seem to have inherited the title of “Hardest Working Man in Show Business” from the late music legend James Brown — in addition to his duties with American Idol and as host of the morning show on Los Angeles radio station KIIS, the Atlanta native is both an on-air personality and managing editor of E! Entertainment Television’s news department. (He even hosted part of E!’s red carpet arrivals show before ducking out to prepare for the Emmys telecast.)

True to his statements in pre-show interviews, Seacrest, who is neither a comedian nor a singer, kept the proceedings moving smoothly, introducing presenters and comporting himself throughout the evening with the assuredness of one of his avowed role models, Dick Clark.

After a brief welcome, Seacrest introduced Ray Romano, a three-time Emmy winner during his ten years as star and executive producer of the CBS sitcom Everybody Loves Raymond. Romano, in a dark suit and bright yellow necktie, got the audience laughing with jokes about what he has done in the two years before presenting the evening’s first award, for Outstanding Supporting Actor in a Comedy Series.

The winner was Jeremy Piven for his performance as manic talent agent Ari Gold on the HBO series Entourage. “What an embarrassment of riches to even be able to play this role,” began Piven, who also won in this category last year. After thanking various colleagues, he wrapped up by saying, “Last year I impaled myself kissing this [Emmy] up to my father, and I’m going to do it again because I love him, and I miss him and I do it for him.”

Next came Outstanding Supporting Actor in a Drama Series, presented by Ugly Betty costars (and nominees) Vanessa Williams and America Ferrera. The Emmy went to Terry O’Quinn for his performance as intense castaway John Locke on ABC’s Lost.

Referring to the arduous conditions he endures on the show, O’Quinn, in a bright pink shirt and shimmering tie, said, “Sometimes when we’re hitting each other and stabbing each other and shooting each other and they’re pouring blood and turning on the sprinklers, I wonder what it would be like to bake a sheet of cookies on Wisteria Lane [the fictional setting of ABC’s Desperate Housewives] and get one of their checks. But then I think about my cast mates and crew mates represented here by the glorious [co-nominee] Michael Emerson, and I realize why I have the best job in the world.”

Seacrest returned to introduce Tina Fey and Julia Louis-Dreyfus — both nominees for Outstanding Lead Actress in a Comedy Series for their work in 30 Rock and The New Adventures of Old Christine, respectively — to present the award for Outstanding Supporting Actress in a Comedy Series.

The winner, taking home her first Emmy, was Jaime Pressly for her performance as Joy, the trash-talking ex-wife of the title character of NBC’s My Name Is Earl.

Pressly, who was nominated in the same category last year, gave a heartfelt acceptance speech in which she thanks her show’s creator, Greg Garcia, her fiancé and new son, her manager and attorney, and ended with, “Here’s to our little engine that could that finally did.”

Presenting the award for Outstanding Supporting Actor in a Miniseries or a Movie were ABC’s Grey’s Anatomy costar, and a nominee for Outstanding Actress in a Drama Series, Katherine Heigl, and Kyle Chandler, star of the NBC drama Friday Night Lights.

The honor went to Thomas Haden Church for AMC’s Western miniseries Broken Trail. In his speech, Church thanked his co-star Robert Duvall and director Walter Hill, then joked about the Emmy statuette: “this is probably going to be my daughter’s favorite toy when I get home, next to Sponge Bob — product placement!” he concluded by thanking his father, “who taught me to love Westerns when I was a little kid.”

Following a commercial break, the show resumed with Ellen DeGeneres kneeling beside Hugh Laurie, the curmudgeonly physician of the Fox drama House, pretending to seek medical advice: “I know you’re not really a doctor, but should I have it removed?”

DeGeneres then introduced a humorous video compilation of the year in review as chronicled through one-liners from late-night variety and comedy shows, including Jay Leno, David Letterman, Jimmy Kimmel, Conan O’Brien, Craig Ferguson, Bill Maher, Jon Stewart and Steven Colbert. The sequence included moving testimonials to Tom Snyder, the former late-night host who passed away this summer.

Next, Desperate Housewives star Eva Longoria came to the stage accompanied by Kevin Connolly, Kevin Dillon, Jerry Ferrara, Adrien Grenier and Jeremy Piven of the HBO comedy Entourage to present the award for Outstanding Supporting Actress in a Drama Series.

The award went to Katherine Heigl, who plays Dr. Izzie Stevens on ABC’s medical drama Grey’s Anatomy. Heigl, who won for her first-ever Emmy nomination, joked that she did not prepare a speech because “My own mother told me that I didn’t have a shot in hell of winning tonight.” She then laughed and added, “She’s a really big supporter. She does love me.” In closing, eliminating any doubt as to her true feelings, she addressed her mother, who was in the audience, and said, “This is for you, this is because of you. I wouldn’t want to be here without you.”

The evening’s first writing honor, Outstanding Writing for a Variety, Music or Comedy Program, was presented by two CBS stars — Two and a Half Men’s Jon Cryer (a nominee for Outstanding Supporting Actor in a Comedy Series) and Jennifer Love Hewitt of the supernatural drama Ghost Whisper. The winner was the team from NBC’s Late Night With Conan O’Brien.

Writer Mike Sweeney, picking up on Heigl’s remarks, said, “I do have a speech because Katherine Heigl’s mother said we would win.” Wrapping up, he said, “I especially wasn’t to thank Connan O’Brien…the genuinely funniest guy I’ve ever known, and I’m not just saying that because his eyes are boring through the back of my skull right now.”

When the show returned from a break, Seacrest, as he does each week on American Idol, introduced a musical number. But instead of aspiring unknowns, the singers were Grammy-winning icons: Tony Bennett and Christina Aguilera, who performed the song “Steppin’ Out,” which provided viewers the sight of a pregnant Aguilera singing an apt lyric: “Steppin’ out with my baby.”

Alec Baldwin, a nominee for Outstanding Lead Actor in a Comedy Series for his work on the NBC comedy 30 Rock, then came to the stage to present the award for Outstanding Directing for a Variety, Music or Comedy Program.

Fittingly, given the performance it followed, the Emmy was presented to Rob Marshall for his work on the NBC special Tony Bennett: An American Classic.

“I loved every second of working on this with the great Tony Bennett,” said Marshall, who went on to thank his collaborators on the special and ended with a special thank you to his family.

Heroes star Ali Larter, joined by 24 star Kiefer Sutherland — last year’s winner for Outstanding Actor in a Drama Series, and a nominee this year as well — were then introduced to present the award for Outstanding Lead Actor in a Miniseries or a Movie. The honor went to Robert Duvall for his performance as Prentice “Print” Ritter in AMC’s Broken Trail. The honor marked Duvall’s first Emmy among four career nominations.

“I never knew an actor in my lifetime or anybody else’s lifetime who didn’t to do a Western,” said Duvall, who was also part of the iconic Western miniseries Lonesome Dove, for which he earned an Emmy nomination in 1989. He then went on to add, “The Western is here to stay, and I’m very glad I could be part of it.”

When the show resumed, Queen Latifah, a nominee for Outstanding Lead Actress in a Miniseries or a Movie for the HBO production Life Support, introduced a tribute to 30th-anniversary salute to the monumental miniseries Roots. In 1977, the year after the nation’s bicentennial, “came a new American revolution — and this one was definitely televised,” she said.

Roots was nominated for thirty-seven Primetime Emmy Awards and won nine. It also received a Golden Globe and a Peabody Award. It was based on the novel by Alex Haley, which was inspired by the author’s family history, beginning in Gambia, Africa, and continuing in the United States, where Haley’s ancestor, a teenage boy named Kunta Kinte, was sold into slavery and renamed Toby. The ABC production premiered on January 23, 1977, and aired over the course of eight consecutive nights. An estimated 130 million viewers watched during that time, and the final episode ranks as the third most watched telecast of all time, after the final episode of M*A*S*H and the “Who Shot J.R.?” episode of Dallas.

Following Queen Latifah’s remarks, seven original cast members took the stage: John Amos, Edward Asner, Levar Burton, Louis Gossett, Jr., Cicely Tyson, Leslie Uggams, Ben Vereen, they remained to present the award for Outstanding Miniseries, which went to Broken Trail.

In a recap of the acting honors handed out at last Saturday’s Creative Arts Emmy Awards, Neil Patrick Harris, a nominee for Outstanding Supporting Actor in a Comedy Series for CBS’s How I Met Your Mother, and Hayden Panettiere of NBC’s Heroes, announced the winners for Outstanding Guest Actor and Actress in a Drama Series: John Goodman as a folksy but firm Nevada judge in NBC’s Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip, and Leslie Caron as an emotionally frayed rape victim in an episode of Law & Order: Special Victims Unit.

Caron took the stage to present the award for Outstanding Directing for a Drama Series to Alan Taylor, for his work helming the “Kennedy and Heidi” episode of The Sopranos.

Harris and Panettiere returned to present Outstanding Writing for a Drama Series to David Chase for the final episode of The Sopranos, “Made in America.”

Steve Carell, a nominee for Outstanding Actor in a Comedy Series for his performance as ineffectual paper-company boss Michael Scott on NBC’s The Office, appeared to present the statuette for Outstanding Variety, Music or Comedy Series. The winner, for the fifth time in this category, was a program where Carell made his first major television impression: Comedy Central’s The Daily Show With Jon Stewart, where just a few years ago he was a correspondent.

Alluding to the association, Stewart started his speech with, “I’ve heard such terrible things about that guy Carell…”

Carell remained on stage to present the award for Outstanding Variety, Music or Comedy Special, which went to NBC’s Tony Bennett: An American Classic. Speaking on behalf of the production, Tony Bennett’s son Danny, one of the executive producers, paid tribute to his father: “My original intention was to create a show that would be a tremendous docu-musical to really chronicle this man’s tremendous legacy; also, a gift from me to him on his eightieth birthday. But really, how it ended up, is it was a gift to me from him and everyone who is part of this show.”

After a brief introduction by Seacrest of the Ernst & Young accountants responsible for tabulating and maintaining the integrity of the votes, Desperate Housewives star Marcia Cross, accompanied by Mark Harmon, star of the CBS drama NCIS, came forward to present Outstanding Supporting Actress in a Miniseries or a Movie. The winner, Judy Davis, of the USA miniseries The Starter Wife, was not present to receive her award — the third Emmy of her career among ten nominations.

Dick Askin, Chairman and CEO of the Academy of Television Arts & Sciences, spoke on behalf of Fox’s “Idol Gives Back” campaign and HBO’s “The Addiction Project,” both of which were honored with this year’s Governors Award, a special distinction given to individuals or organizations committed to important social causes.

“Idol Gives Back” was a star-studded gala and public service campaign that helped raise more than $75 million to benefit relief programs for children and young people in extreme poverty in America and Africa.

An extension of HBO’s acclaimed fourteen-part documentary series Addiction, “The Addiction Project” was an unprecedented multi-platform and outreach campaign with events in over 100 cities aimed at helping Americans understand addiction as a chronic but treatable brain disease.

When the show returned from a break, three powerhouse actresses — Glenn Close of the FX legal drama Damages, Kyra Sedgwick, star of the TNT drama The Closer and Mary-Louise Parker, star of the Showtime comedy Weeds — appeared to announce Outstanding Made for Television Movie, which went to the HBO production Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee.

Joe Mantegna, a nominee for Outstanding Supporting Actor in a Miniseries or a Movie for USA’s The Starter Wife, introduced one of the evening’s highlights when two legendary groups from New Jersey — the cast of Jersey Boys, the 2006 Tony Award winner for Best Musical, based on the lives and music of Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons, and the cast of the HBO drama The Sopranos, which aired its final episode earlier this year — came together for a show-stopping moment of song, sentiment and celebration.

The Sopranos, one of the most honored shows in television history, entered the evening as the top nominee among series, with fifteen — and a total of 104 nominations and eighteen wins since its premiere in 1999.

In full Garden State glory, the Jersey Boys singers performed a medley of three Four Seasons hits — “Walk Like a Man,” “Can’t Take My Eyes Off Of You” and “Who Loves You?” — accompanied by a video montage of highlights from the series. When the performance ended, more than twenty Sopranos cast members took the stage.

The Sopranos was the evening’s top nominee among series, with fifteen. Its eighty-sixth and final episode — which ended by cutting to black at the culmination of a suspenseful sequence in which it appeared that beleaguered anti-hero Tony Soprano, played by James Gandolfini, may have been about to meet his demise — sparked praise for its willful ambiguity as well as frustration over its lack of a clear-cut resolution.

But whatever one’s opinion of the finale, the effusive response to the Jersey Boys tribute and the reunion of more than twenty key cast members on the Shrine Auditorium stage, made it clear that the show’s legions of fans will never, to borrow a familiar expression from Tony and his crooked cronies, fuhggedaboudit.

When the show resumed, a pair of ABC stars — Patrick Dempsey of Grey’s Anatomy and Sally Field of Brothers & Sisters, a nominee for Outstanding Lead Actress in a Drama Series — stepped forward to present the award for Outstanding Lead Actress in a Miniseries or a Movie, which went to Helen Mirren for her swansong as Inspector Jane Tennison in the PBS Masterpiece Theatre drama Prime Suspect: The Final Act.

The award marked the second consecutive year Mirren prevailed in this category. Last year she won for her performance in title role of HBO’s Elizabeth I.

“So much to say, so little time,” Mirren began. “I’m going to keep talking until that very dramatic music comes on – I love that.” She then thanked he companies involved, as well as various colleagues before segueing into a comment about the United States and the highly touted Prime Suspect series. “You Americans are wonderfully generous people. You are a lot of other things as well — some good, some bad. But, you know, of I was to categorize your natures, it’s generosity above all. And you took our piece of work to your hearts, and you made what it became — a piece of iconic television.”

Following Mirren, cantankerous comic Lewis Black a nominee in the category of Outstanding Variety, Music or Comedy Special for the HBO special Lewis Black: Red, White & Screwed, came to the stage and launched into one of his signature rants in which he excoriated short-sighted television executives, sensationalistic cable news outlets and other TV targets. He

“Look for Lewis Black this fall on Valium,” joked Seacrest at the end of Black’s diatribe.

Seacrest then introduced Cold Case costars Kathryn Morris and Danny Pino, presenters of the award for Outstanding Directing for a Miniseries, Movie or a Dramatic Special. In a second straight victory for Prime Suspect: The Final Act, the winner was director Philip Martin.

The next category, also presented by Morris and Pino, marked three in a row for Prime Suspect: The Final Act, with the award going to production’s writer Frank Deasy.

Seacrest then introduced Heroes stars Masi Oka, a nominee in the category of Outstanding Supporting Actor in a Drama Series, who sat at a laptop computer, which he used to contact Tom Anderson, president of the social networking website MySpace.com, who announced the winner for Outstanding Creative Achievement in Interactive Television: the television network Current, which makes significant use of user-generated content.

Accepting the award were Current partners Joel Hyatt, along with former Vice President of the United States Al Gore. On a night in which the Television Academy and Fox were touting their efforts to produce the first-ever carbon-neutral Emmys, Gore, who has led a passionate campaign to raise awareness about global climate change, was a crowd favorite, and received a standing ovation as he took the stage.

“We are tying to open up the television medium so that viewers can help to make television and join the conversation of democracy and reclaim American democracy by talking about the choices we have to make.”

Brad Garrett and Joely Fisher, costars of the Fox sitcom ’Til Death, stepped to the stage to introduce the award for Outstanding Individual Performance in a Variety or Music Program. The winner was Tony Bennett for Tony Bennett, Performer Tony Bennett: An American Classic. In his brief speech, Bennett thanked the retailer Target, which sponsored the production, and his children for their support.

In the second recap of the acting honors from last Saturday’s Creative Arts Emmy Awards, Anthony Anderson, of the new Fox drama K-Ville, and Teri Hatcher, of ABC’s Desperate Housewives, announced the winners for Outstanding Guest Actor and Actress in a Comedy Series: Stanley Tucci, who appeared in an episode of Monk, and Elaine Stritch, a winner for her performance as Colleen Donaghy, the mother of Alec Baldwin’s puffed-up network executive on NBC’s 30 Rock.

Tucci and Stritch then remained to present Outstanding Directing for a Comedy Series as she did at the Creative Arts ceremony a week ago, albeit with slightly less profanity, Stritch veered from the script to the audience’s delight. The winner was Richard Shepard for his direction of the Ugly Betty pilot.

Hatcher and Anderson returned for another presentation, this one for Outstanding Writing for a Comedy Series, which went to Greg Daniels for the “Gay Witch Hunt” episode of The Office.

In a toss to another musical performance, Seacrest, dressed in garb from Showtime’s The Tudors, introduced Wayne Brady, host of the Fox game show Don’t Forget the Lyrics, along with Grammy-winning musical sensation Kanye West and Rainn Wilson, a nominee for Outstanding Supporting Actor in a Comedy Series for his work on NBC’s The Office, who competed in a mock version of Brady’s show.

West and Wilson then presented the award for Outstanding Reality-Competition Program to The Amazing Race. The honor marked the fifth consecutive Emmy in this category for The Amazing Race, tying it with Frasier for most consecutive wins in a row.

Comedy Central duo — Daily Show host Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert, host of The Colbert Report — stepped to the stage to present Outstanding Lead Actor in a Comedy Series. Colbert, armed with a leaf blower, which led to mock-serious banter about the veracity of global warming.

Of his leaf blower, Colbert said, “This baby runs on alternative fuel.”

“What?” asked Stewart.

The two men then announced British performer Ricky Gervais as the winner for Outstanding Lead Actor in a Comedy Series. When Stewart and Colbert determined that Gervais was not present top receive the award, they announced that in his absence they would give the award to “our good friend Steve Carell!” Carell then ran to the stage from his seat and the three men, hooting with enthusiasm, shared a group hug.

Next, presenting the honor for Outstanding Lead Actress in a Drama Series, were Hugh Laurie, star of the Fox series House, and a nominee for Outstanding Lead Actress in a Drama Series, and Felicity Huffman, of ABC’s Desperate Housewives, and a nominee for Outstanding Lead Actress in a Comedy Series.

The winner was Sally Field of ABC’s Brothers & Sisters. It was the third Emmy among seventh nominations for Field, who previously won in 2001, for an episode of ER, and in 1977, for her performance in the dramatic special Sybil.

Field began what would ultimately prove to be the most controversial speech of the night somewhat innocuously by thanking the show’s creators, cast and crew. She then shifted gears to discuss her character, Nora Walker, the widowed mother of five children.

“At the heart of Nora Walker, she is a mother, so surely this beloings to all the mothers of the world. May they be seen, may their work be valued and raised, and to especially the mothers who stand with open heart and wait for their children to come home from danger, harm’s way and from war….” After a momentary lapse during which she lost her train of thought, Field resumed: “I am proud to be one of those women. Let’s face it, if the mothers rules the world, there would be no goddamn wars in the first place. Thank you for everything.”

An “In Memoriam” video montage followed, featuring clips of some of the noted television figures who passed away over the past year, including one of host Ryan Seacrest’s heroes and mentors, Merv Griffin.

Debra Messing, a nominee for Outstanding Lead Actress in a Miniseries or a Movie for her performance in the USA miniseries The Starter Wife, was joined on stage by William Shatner, a nominee for Outstanding Supporting Actor in a Drama Series for his work on ABC’s Boston Legal. They presented the award for Outstanding Lead Actress in a Comedy Series to America Ferrera of ABC’s Ugly Betty.

“It is truly an amazing, wonderful thing that happens when your dreams come true,” she said.

Stars of two new fall series — Jimmy Smits, star of the CBS drama Cane, and Kate Walsh, of ABC’s Grey’s Anatomy spin-off Private Practice — appeared to present Outstanding Lead Actor in a Drama Series.

Thwarting the expectations of many who of those who had anticipated seeing James Gandolfini take home his fourth Emmy for playing Tony Soprano, the award went to James Spader for Boston Legal. The award represented Spader’s third Emmy in as many nominations, all for playing the character of ethically challenged attorney Alan Shore — first for the Practice, and two subsequent honors for that show’s spin-off, Boston Legal.

Alluding to Gandolfini, Spader said, “Oh my goodness, I feel like I just stole a pile of money from the Mob.”

A pair of familiar TV faces, Kelsey Grammer and Patricia Heaton, stars of the new Fox comedy Back to You, came to the stage to present an award they would no doubt like to be nominated for next year: Outstanding Comedy Series. The winner, a critical favorite that could use the potential ratings boost an Emmy could bring, was NBC’s 30 Rock.

Creator, head writer and start Tina Fey, speaking for the assembled team, thanked NBC executive Jeff Zucker and former NBC exec Kevin Reilly “for believing in us enough to keep us on the air.” She then preemptively thanked newly installed NBC entertainment chief Ben Silverman for “doing the same for the next six years,” and, in a joking reference to the ratings, “our dozens and dozens of viewers.”

Presenting the final award of the evening, Outstanding Drama Series, was Helen Mirren — three-time Emmy winner, including one earlier in the evening for Outstanding Lead Actress in a Miniseries or a Movie. This time, The Sopranos prevailed, making it the first regular U.S. drama series has won the top Emmy prize in its final season.

In his speech, creator David Chase thanked his cast, and staff, as well as the many musicians who licensed their music to the show over the years. Then, in closing comments that seemed t pick up on Sally Field’s phrasing and sentiments — and which Seacrest latched onto as an apt closing to the entire evening — he said, “In essence, this is a story about a gangster, and gangsters are out there taking their kids to college and taking their kids to school and outing food on the table, and, hell, let’s face it, if this world and this nation were run by gangsters — maybe it is.”

He seems to have understood the mood of his nation better than anyone since Mario Puzo and Francis Coppola forecast the fate of the American empire in The Godfather.

And he has world leaders mouthing his dialogue, day and night. Here is Nuri Kamal al-Maliki, the prime minister of Iraq, in The New York Times yesterday: “There are two mentalities in this region,” he said. “Conspiracy and mistrust.”

Baghdada-bing.

The rest of the world was muttering about Tony Soprano’s final blackout, but Mr. Maliki proved once more that David Chase has been battling for something worth fighting for. What do I mean, battled?

Try David Chase himself, as interviewed cathartically and perceptively by the hardest-working man in Sopranos land, Alan Sepinwall, the TV critic for Tony Soprano’s end-of-the-driveway hometown paper, The Star-Ledger: “No one was trying to be audacious, honest to God,” Mr. Chase said. “We did what we thought we had to do.”

He had completed his story, but he was giving us a gift in the last scene: He was telling us more. What happened in the four last minutes was plenty of information, and not of the conspiracy-theory type: We got to see the world as Tony does, suffused with anxiety and some amusement and apprehension. It took David Chase eight years to get Tony in and out of therapy, and he was improved about as much as a patient can be improved, maybe 2 to 5 percent.

“It felt like ginger ale in my skull,” he told Dr. Melfi in the first episode. The Sopranos ended up as it began—not with a bang, but an anxiety attack.

Only this time it was ours. This time we blacked out.

“I was shocked by the ending,” said Peter Bogdanovich, the movie director and film historian who played Dr. Elliot Kupferberg, Tony’s therapist’s therapist. Mr. Bogdanovich said he had shot another scene that didn’t make the final episode, in which he was comforting an exhausted, bereaved Dr. Melfi.

“It ends at that moment because that’s his life,” said Mr. Bogdanovich. “He’s anxious about getting blown away, the F.B.I. is going to indict him, Syl is going to die, everything is insecure and tense. It kept going, and the insert shots kept making you feel it was the last thing he was going to do. Endings, endings, endings. The little things in life are the last thing you are going to do. In fact, that’s his life.

“He didn’t give you what you expected—instead of a Hollywood ending,” Mr. Bogdanovich said, and so the viewer was left with “any number of imaginings, so you ask, ‘What the fuck happened?’”

“David has been consistent by doing everything with a vengeance he was not allowed to do on network television, so he gave you a very ambiguous ending,” he continued. “Which is not what the American audience is used to.”

The entire business history of American television has been a conspiracy toward two ends:

a) the resolved ending, generally happy;

b) destroying ambiguity.

Life and art weren’t supposed to jibe when it came to commercial entertainment. It’s not that David Chase was the first guy to come up with ambiguity and moral relativism on TV, but he may have done it with the most vengeance of any television writer since Rod Serling.

You may have noticed that the guys in the safe house where Tony was hiding were watching an episode of The Twilight Zone. It’s a 1963 episode called “The Bard,” and it was written by Rod Serling, the patron saint of television auteurs. In it, a failed playwright summons William Shakespeare from the dead to write his TV pilot for him. Shakespeare, needless to say, sells it, then is compromised and crushed. On Mr. Chase’s soundtrack, you could hear the agent lecture the writer: “The television industry today … is preoccupied with talent, looking for quality … the television writer is a major commodity.” Television writer … commodity. It is the voice of the network slaughterer.

Now the tabloid writers are mad at him. They wanted the show to splatter. As John Candy and Joe Flaherty used to say on SCTV, they wanted it to blow up real good. Mr. Chase inspired the ire of yahoo nation by bagging and dumping what he wanted to avoid: The dark bedtime-story end of The Sopranos was in great demand, and he provided it—splattt!—under the wheels of the Phil Leotardo’s Ford Expedition.

But he also provided the first really grown-up summation in the history of American television: The subjective shot of Tony experiencing the American influx of diners at Holsten’s restaurant was news, as was his inglorious humanity. The final shot of Tony before the black, if freeze-framed, is a human image more photojournalistic than dramatic. If you have that particular device, take a look at Tony, the woolly mammoth in freeze-frame before the ice age, another human in anxious abatement in the Age of Ambiguity.

“It is the most subversive television series ever because it makes you like the monster,” said Mr. Bogdanovich, who was still mulling the last scene. “You don’t know what you’re waiting for. It’s the perfect use of suspense. You are trapped, not wanting anything to happen, but wanting something to happen. It’s very vicious. You’re left with any number of imaginings. What the fuck happened? Which shows you’re bloodthirsty also.”

We saw the two things that were preoccupying Tony: the one unambivalent relationship of his life, the adoring Meadow, his only true believer—she decided to become a lawyer when she saw her daddy taken away in cuffs!—and the assassins around him.

The Chase Gang gave us all the information we needed in the hour: indictments, threats, business, A.J., Carmela, Janice, it was all wrapped up. I was always certain that someone was going to clue Carmela in on the murder of Ade, but it didn’t happen. When Carmela entered Holsten’s, she entered in long shot, and her friendly, reassuring smile to Tony was casual and loving, but quick. A.J. entered with what looked like a potential assassin, his effective twin. But it was Meadow who received the Hitchcockian treatment of threat: Would she be able to park? Was she about to be locked in by assassins? Would she make it across Broad Street, on which she seemed to be in as much jeopardy as was Janet Leigh in Psycho?

“Anybody who wants to watch it,” Mr. Chase told Mr. Sepinwall in The Star-Ledger, “it’s all there.”

The Sopranos could have made it in the Clinton years, but it could only have become the deeply troubling comedy it was in the Bush era. Not because of the White House so much, but because of the viewer’s complicity in the dirty brew of power that flowed from this White House. Not because of the war, but because of the public sense of responsibility for this war.

“Oh,” says Carmela when she’s trying to talk A.J. out of joining the army, “you want to get your legs blown off?”

“Always with the dramatics,” he says.

But not really.

Earlier, at Bobby Bacala’s funeral, A.J., who truly did seem to relax and inhabit his own body once more after his yellow S.U.V. exploded, had a peroration for the commercial landscape the show inhabited: “America,” he said, “is still where people come to make it. It’s a beautiful idea. And then what do they get? Bling and come-ons for shit they don’t need and can’t afford?” Paulie mocked him and descended into a Norm Crosby routine.

But David Chase fought for and won a strange moment of pure insight into the American process. It was romantic, bleary, filthy, piercing. It was as much a comedy of American sobering up after 9/11 as Dallas was a comedy of America getting drunk on the Reagan years. But Mr. Chase fought a battle and won: He created a last shot on television that was one of the best close-ups in movie history, the snapshot of Tony taking in American ambiguity: the Boy Scouts, the killers, the gangstas and the one person toward whom he had little ambiguity. Like the final image of Antoine Doinel in The 400 Blows, he captured all the intimate uncertainty of his age, in a room that could have been heaven or hell, but with good onion rings.

It was, so far, the best last episode in TV history—better than The Mary Tyler Moore Show or All in the Family or Seinfeld, despite all the screaming about it from plotmongers who wouldn’t have been happy with anything short of the conflagration from the end of Scarface or Tony whacking Dr. Elliot Kupferberg before he entered witness protection. Paradox, moral relativism, internality. All the stuff that network television has battled and ejected in the past 60 years—except in a very few instances—is the essence that David Chase brought to his 86 hours. David Chase’s enduring triumph in American television is that he embraced ambiguity and looked for poetry in the Bush administration.

Paulie Walnuts thought he had seen the Virgin Mary, and Tony mocked him; but in fact, Tony had seen the other side of mortality as well, and almost was cajoled by Cousin Tony—a spectral Steve Buscemi—into entering that big, well-lit house in his coma dream, after Junior shot him. But he didn’t, he re-entered the living and went on. That was, he knew somewhere, his task, and it’s why the cozy, dark ordinariness of Holsten’s restaurant in Bloomfield, N.J., was a terrifying but immensely moving way station.

Orson Welles once said that “Every story essentially has an unhappy ending. If you want a happy ending it all depends on where you stop telling it.” David Chase’s triumph was that he had the balls to stop telling it right h

Four years after buying a two-acre spread north of Montauk Highway in East Hampton for $950,000, Mr. Bradley recently paid $1.35 million for the 2.77-acre place next-door.

"The property next to his became available, and he just snatched it up," said Kevin Tedesco, manager of CBS News communications, about Mr. Bradley's purchase of 8 St. Regis Court, on a tiny street that leads directly down to the Sag Harbor Bay and near land that used to belong to a summer camp.

While it doubles Mr. Bradley's privacy buffer, the acquisition is also good news for neighbors, who say Mr. Bradley brings some credibility to this northwest part of East Hampton. The locals include Donna Karan, Alec Baldwin and Sean (P. Diddy) Combs, who paid $2.7 million for a house nearby on Hedges Banks Drive, also in 1998.

Bidding-Bing, Bidding-Boom

Though North Caldwell, N.J., may be the fictional home of Tony Soprano, the show is largely filmed at Silvercup Studios in Long Island City. James Gandolfini, a.k.a. Tony Soprano, lives in a Tribeca loft. And Jersey-raised Sopranos creator David Chase, sources say, is now sniffing around a fancy Upper East Side condo.

Though an HBO spokesman for Mr. Chase would not comment, real-estate sources say that the Sopranos producer, creator and creative director has toured a three-bedroom rental apartment at 610 Park Avenue, on the market for $19,500 a month, three times this winter.

The fancy condo building, formerly the Mayfair Hotel, is a 15-story brown-brick building erected in 1925. It was converted to 40 condos in 2000 and houses the four-star restaurant Daniel in its former lobby. The chef-restaurateur Daniel Boulud keeps an apartment in the building, as does singer Luther Vandross.

Only since his show got picked up has Mr. Chase become a New Yorker. Born in Mount Vernon, N.Y., he's spent most of his life in the Garden State. The only child of an engineer turned hardware-store owner and a telephone-directory proofreader, he moved to Clifton, N.J., at the age of 5 and then to North Caldwell, the setting for his show. He majored in English at N.Y.U. but then got his master's in film at Stanford University and moved to Los Angeles in 1971, where he lived for the next 30 years writing for television.

Reports say his current address is in Gramercy Park, but sources say that may not be the case for very long.

HELL'S KITCHEN

457 West 43rd Street One-bed, one-and-a-half-bath, 1,100-square-foot co-op. Asking: $515,000. Selling: $480,000. Charges: $930; 51 percent tax-deductible. Time on the market: three weeks. WEST VILLAGE REFUGEES FIND SHELTER When the owners of a West 13th Street townhouse decided to sell the place, a couple subletting the ground-floor apartment were about to be put out on the street. "It was just a sublet, so they were allowed to do that," said Corcoran Group broker Lisa Camillieri of the owners. The almost homeless couple found another townhouse on West 43rd Street near Tenth Avenue with a ground-floor apartment for sale-this one a duplex with a garden out back. It was just like home, minus the landlord and the irresistibly sky-high resale value.

SOHO

101 Thompson Street Studio, one-bath, 400-square-foot co-op. Asking: $215,000. Selling: $226,000. Charges: $500; 50 percent tax-deductible. Time on the market: two weeks.

THE 400-SQUARE-FOOT WAR For sale: an apartment on Thompson Street, between Spring and Prince streets, $500 maintenance. What's the catch? Four hundred square feet in a fifth-floor walk-up. Ouch ! "It looks much bigger," according to Christine Nugent of Insignia Douglas Elliman. That's what they all say. The sellers, a graphic designer and an architect, had made the place livable after 10 years there. Seeing a way out of the madness in June, they put the place on the market with Ms. Nugent and started looking for a one-bedroom apartment in Tribeca. The tiny studio quickly became the center of a turf war between the owners of the one-bedroom apartment on one side of it and the owners of the two-bedroom apartment on the other. Those living in the smaller space won!

TRIBECA

41 Warren Street Two-bed, two-bath, 2,050-square-foot condo. Asking: $1.750 million. Selling: $1.525 million. Charges: $900.66. Taxes: $889.78 Time on the market: five months.

THE NEXT WAVE DOWNTOWN After a year and a half of construction-including reinforcing the whole building from the sub-basement up-seven new lofts at 41 Warren Street came on the market just before Sept. 11, only to be closed after the terrorist attack until November. At that point, said Mary Ellen Cashman of Stribling & Associates, who represented the building in this deal, the developers dropped the price of this unit-with a Viking stove, a terrace off the kitchen and a fireplace-by $200,000, to $1.75 million. An artist and a businessman bought it in early March for an additional $225,000 discount. And that doesn't factor in the additional perks they're now eligible for as new Tribecans.

It's not hard to see why a large (9.5 million) audience that certainly includes this correspondent has connected with The Sopranos. David Chase's HBO novel-in-parts (as we might think of it, today's version of a Dickensian serial) is a parable about the center not holding, about the Great Anarch drawing nigh with heavy, bloody tread, accompanied by a rough beast. That it's about a criminal enterprise is a concession to the postmodern thirst for irony but in this case, irony gives the parable added force.

Everything in the show flows from the memorable line of the first season, when Tony bursts out, "Out there it's the 1990's, but in this house it's 1954!" Back then, it sounded like bluster, but given all that's happened since in the series, you think back, and you think twice, and you see that what David Chase was setting us up for is that 1999, or 2000, or now 2001 is outside, rattling the windows, trying the doorknobs, howling to get in. It's like an extrapolation of that moment in Close Encounters … when the world outside fills with light and the doors rattle and the walls swell and the electricity goes crazy.

The song that Uncle Junior sang with such passion at the end of this season's final installment is exactly the kind of song people who think in 1954 terms, or cling to 1954 memories and values, will recall: sung back then by the likes of Roberto Murolo, Tino Rossi, Gino Bechi. The tears in the eyes of the elders listening are for themselves; they weep for the Old Country from which they emigrated, from which they sprang: as in L.P. Hartley's famous dictum, "The past is a foreign country; they do things differently there." These people weep for the Old Country which is still in them, for its customs, language, ways of doing things. That they are thugs and gangsters is momentarily beside the point. In the American present, they have reverted to being foreigners.

None of this means a damn thing to the young; our young, for whom time present is the only time that exists, let alone matters. Which may be O.K., may be deplorable, but is the way it is. When Meadow Soprano hurls a roll and storms out, who is that but Nora in Ibsen's A Doll's House, slamming the door on what has been but can be no longer.

If I sit Francis down and play him my Roberto Murolo CD's, he'll look at me as if I'm crazy. Who needs this s ? is what he'll be thinking. The past is over. It can fight a rearguard action, can put up pockets of resistance sleek, clever, buff, ambitious, glib Jackie Aprile Jr., poster boy for Cosa Nostra.com come the day, is blown away by a goombah so fat he can hardly walk but resistance, we begin to see, is futile. There'll be other Jackies; there's Ralph, the Russians, and above all there's the money. Suddenly, there's not enough to go around. No sooner is Christopher "made" but he's in the hole, to Paulie, who's now thinking about selling Tony out.

When this series started, everything was pretty much fixed; now, all is relative; everything carries a dollar sign. These were people whose compasses and sextants were calibrated just so. Now the fixed stars have been rearranged and nothing makes sense. Not even the Holy Mother Church. Carmela goes to see a priest and finds herself dealing with an African padre who feeds her Mitch Albom bullbleep in a Geoffrey Holder voice: Tuesdays with Father Obosi.

And yet …

The success of a work of art like The Sopranos (Is Dickens art? Is Trollope? If so, why not Tony et al.?) suggests that people still want to connect, culturally, with something outside their own self-involvement. But let's look at the numbers. By television standards, the 9.5 million that HBO is boasting about is a fraction of the audience pulled by the final episode of Seinfeld. It's a fraction of those who watch Will and Grace or Friends, which are two really stupid shows.

Inside that 9.5 million is perhaps the core middle- and upper-brow audience of, say, three million to four million that, I suspect, are the people who keep the serious arts going in this country. On top of these are perhaps another five million to seven million who are plugged in enough to want to see what the fuss is all about and decide to stick around. At this point, we leave the orbit of The Sopranos and enter the astral void where dwell, culturally, the tens of millions to whom connection means having been there, done or seen that, too. Been to Tate Modern, seen the Jackie O. show and Vermeer or Disney World or the Mona Lisa. The urge to connect doesn't disappear; we may not bowl as much as we used to, but that doesn't mean we can live with being out of it, whatever "it" is.

I was up at the Met the other day to show my daughter's Italian in-laws the glories of the Met. We got in a little early and took a fast five-minute spin through Jackie O., and then went on to Vermeer before moving out into the permanent collections.

As deplorable as the Jackie O. show is in conception and principle, it's even worse in execution and fact. Given its sponsorship the Newhouses' decision to entrust Vogue to a badly dressed Englishwoman continues to amaze me and curatorial direction, who can be surprised? And, as Philip Weiss observed last week: the clothes are so bad! As one friend of mine said: "All those buttons!" Talk about niminy-piminy.

As for the potted history, bleeeah! Someday, someone who wants to let the word go forth to newer generations of Americans what the three-year Kennedy "era" was really about will put together an experience in which pilgrims will sit in a dark room and for, say, eight hours endure what the country went through or perhaps was put through over the weekend of Nov. 22, 1963: an endless black-and-white TV loop, Dallas, Ruby, Air Force One, John-John on the steps, the riderless horse, Cronkite haggard. Over and over and over and over and over again. In those three days, the box took control of our sensibilities, and the country was put into a quasi-hypnotic state of self-doubt from which we have never fully emerged.

Then it was that Jackie sold herself to the country. It was an easy sell if, as she did, you had the time, the money, the opportunity and the balls. After all, these were people who pulled off in 1960 in Cook County electoral scams what anything alleged with regard to Dade County in 2000 didn't come close to.

Still, there's this to be said for the exhibition: It is certainly the greatest achievement on record in cretin control. By late morning, the line waiting to get into Jackie stretched down through the drawings galleries ruining any chance to see what was hanging there back along the well of the Grand Staircase and northward along the balcony; thousands of people standing with their mouths open. Fifty feet away from the Jackie O. entrance, in a gallery hung with a dozen great paintings by Cézanne, a painter who is on everyone's Top 10 roster, there was no one!

Vermeer was doing boffo B.O., too. By my reckoning, some 550,000 people have seen the exhibition, or almost the same number as there are copies out (according to Jim Dwyer in The Times) of a novel called The Girl with a Pearl Earring, which is driving attendance. From what I've read, I'm sure it's a dreadful book, sort of an artsy Bridges of Delft County, but it's getting more people to look at Vermeer than Proust ever did, so let's look at the bright side

Maybe this is where the future lies: "hot' shows driven by extra-artistic interests that concentrate the noise which has become almost intolerable at the Met and the crowds out of the way so that others can look at the art. At the Frick today, such "crowds" as there ever are mass in front of the Vermeers, which the Frick can't lend, while down the hall is an El Greco show that teaches more about art, painting and genius than almost any exhibition I have ever seen anywhere.

So it's not all bad, and it could be worse. Some might not call this consolation, but there is a certain peace that comes from sitting on a bench in an empty Met gallery, studying a great Cézanne and wondering, as I'm sure Tony Soprano does, whatever the hell became of 1954.