Why the 'Boardwalk Empire' finale worked so well

The translation isn't perfect, but Aristotle's main point in a quote to which he's attributed is that poetry is often truer than history, for it captures the universal experience, while history is relegated to a particular time and place.


This is the theme “Boardwalk Empire” has flirted with since it debuted on HBO six years ago. A series that consistently dealt you style in addition to (and sometimes, I would argue in lieu of) substance, Terrence Winter's love song to the era that birthed organized crime in the United States consistently took license with the historical record to bring viewers an intensely personal drama.


Boardwalk struggled to recapture its central conflict after Steve Buscemi's Nucky Thompson killed his main threat, Jimmy Darmody, at the end of season 2. We were introduced to Bobby Canavale's brilliant Gyp Rosetti in season 3, then Jeffrey Wright's verbose and wily Valentin Narcisse in season 4, who quickly picked a fight with Michael Kenneth Williams' Chalky White. In the interim, Jack Huston's Richard Harrow tried and failed to establish a normal life for himself after putting that rifle in his mouth in season 2, Nelson Van Alden (Michael Shannon) bumbled his way through a stint in organized crime in Chicago and attracted the attention of Stephen Graham's Al Capone, while Gillian Darmody (Gretchen Mol) descended slowly into an opium-fueled madness that produced some of the series' finest (and creepiest) performances.


It was, to put it mildly, an oft-unfocused mess. While the backdrop of violence, sex and power-grabbing (fueled mostly by the brilliant performances of Vincent Piazza and Anatol Yusef as Charles “Lucky” Luciano and Meyer Lansky, respectivey) always kept viewers glued to the screen, the series was billed as Nucky Thompson's rise and fall from power, a theme that seemed to die along with Jimmy in that rain-soaked construction pit.


Thankfully, season 5 successfully recaptured that spirit, introducing us to a younger Nucky as he developed into the “half-gangster” we say greasin' palms and griftin' so many years ago. And in the series finale, that story arc came full circle in a climax that brilliantly thumbed its nose at history and gave us the poetic end Nucky deserved, rather than the quiet death he received in real life.


Enoch “Nucky” Johnson, the real life mogul that Nucky Thompson is based upon, lived to 85, dying of old age in Northfield, New Jersey, in 1968. Had the writers chosen to give their title character, who differed from the real Johnson in many ways, such an end, it would have been an affront to the decision to make him the source of his own fall from grace. The final moments of the series finale brilliantly blend the fatal pistol blasts from a young Tommy Darmody with the offer of Gillian to the commodore, Nucky's act of desperation for power that spawns all the events of the series. It's an ending that forms a perfect circle and the closure to Nucky's quest for power – and its convoluted telling – that only art, not life, could produce.

Change in the Sofa-The Return of Curb!

The dog days of summer are here. Along with that unbearably uncomfortable, sweltering heat reverberating off the pavement comes a return of the unbearably uncomfortable Larry David. Season 8 of the universally-acclaimed HBO series starts with a cold opening that finishes the scene that concluded Season 7. Just as it seems Cheryl (Cheryl Hines) and Larry are about to reunite over the "Seinfeld" reunion show, Larry notices Cheryl's absent-minded habit of placing beverages directly on tables without a coaster. Insisting that Cheryl phone Julia Louis-Dreyfuss to inform her that it was Cheryl's fault Julia's oak table got ruined at a party, Larry makes good on the self-sabotage we all saw coming. Cue "Frolic," and curtain-up on a new installment of first-world problems at their finest.

"The Divorce," of course, deals with the final legal separation of Larry and Cheryl begun in Season 6. The chemistry between Larry and Cheryl Hines is still clearly apparent on-screen, however, leading to a very amusing exchange in the couples' bedroom as they're arguing over who gets to keep some candlesticks. "Any time a woman is in this bedroom, I figure I have to ask," Larry explains after an unsolicited request for some break-up sex. The episode also features the return of several of the colorful ensemble cast, and each of the principals gets a decent amount of screen-time in the first episode. Susie (Susie Essman) gets a shot at Jeff (Jeff Garlin) about even thinking about a divorce ("I'll have your balls thumbtacked to my wall!"), Funkhouser (Bob Einstein) gets on Larry's case about convincing his wife to join him on a business trip to London ("You are a colossal prick, you know that?!"), and Leon once again steals the show when asking about Funkhouser's sex life after he decides to get a divorce on Larry's advice ("You ran that ass into the ground, didn't you? Like a rental car?"). The episode gives all of the ensemble cast a chance to shine for a moment, illustrating just how well-developed these characters have become over the past several seasons and how dynamic and hysterical their improvised exchanges can still be under the well-trained pen of David.

"The Divorce" continues the Curb tradition of introducing a conflict that will likely last throughout the season, while still focusing on one or two major societal issues that form the basis of the comical adversity present throughout the self-contained episode. Gary Cole does a spirited turn as Joe O'Donnell, the fictionalized version of Frank McCourt, current embattled owner of the Los Angeles Dodgers. In the Curb universe, Larry once again borrows from reality, referring a "more kosher" lawyer to O'Donnell than his current fake Jewish lawyer, who subsequently loses the team in O'Donnell's own divorce negotiations because of ineptitude. O'Donnell, of course, blames Larry, and punches him out before he can interrupt his own divorce arbitration with Cheryl. Larry subsequently loses his home, setting up the move to New York that will occur later in the season.

Also included in this week's episode were verbal instructions to a pre-teen about use of a tampon ("There's an inner-tube and an outer-tube!"), a discussion of the legality of buffet-sharing, and the ethical ramifications of canceling one's Girl Scout cookie order ("Actually, I find them abhorrent. But come on in!"). "The Divorce" may have come at a time when summer-time TV doldrums have lulled me into a state of low-expectations (I'm living on re-runs of "The Wire" and Thursday nights on FX with "Wilfred" and "Louie" exclusively at the moment), but tonight, it seemed like a welcome return to form for a show that has consistently performed at a high-level for a decade now. I cannot wait to see where Funkhouser's bachelor-hood and Larry's new digs take him next week. Bravo.

Verdict: 4.5/5 stars