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The only noise in the crowded courtroom was the squeaky wheels of the television cart being rolled slowly down the center aisle toward the bench. Around two hundred and fifty people, the maximum the fire marshal would permit inside, were just breathing heavily as the ancient courthouse air conditioner battled tirelessly against the punishing summer heat. The bailiff, who was likely as old as the air conditioner, shuffled along in that way old men do as he finally pushed the cart into position.
"I hold in my hand," started the lawyer, his white button-down shirt drenched in sweat, revealing his Journey '87 t-shirt beneath, but before he could explain what it was he held, a loud noise interrupted him.
"Sorry," the bailiff said, as the TV noise that startled the entire audience continued but decreased as he manually turned down the volume.
The lawyer cleared his throat.
"As I was saying, I hold in my hand the script for the final episode of the hit Home Box Office crime drama The Sopranos, 'Made in America,'" the lawyer orated, moving around in a little half circle as he spoke, holding the script aloft so all could see, but he was interrupted once more.
"Objection!"
"Mr. Vincenzo?" the judge inquired.
"Your honor, my client's class didn't read the script; they watched it," Mr. Vincenzo said.
"I'm afraid I don't follow," the judge replied.
"The script may have elements such as descriptions of the actions, writer's notes, producer feedback, or even cut or trimmed dialogue that may not have made it into what the class actually saw, which is the subject of this entire trial," Mr. Vincenzo explained.
"I'm inclined to agree," the judge started.
"Your honor, I'm simply going to let the jury read along so that they don't miss—" the lawyer started, but the judge held up a hand to silence him.
"If what is so offensive is in the show itself, it should be apparent in the form in which it appeared to the children. So I'm ruling that the script is off-limits. Mr. Kincaid, you may proceed, sans script," the judge concluded.
Mr. Kincaid narrowed his eyes, his bushy brows nearly coming close enough together that it looked like a caterpillar mid-crawl, but he didn't protest any further and tucked the script into his suit pocket.
"If I may direct the jury to the screen," Mr. Kincaid said, picking up a small remote off the top of the television.
The bailiff had turned off the TV, and when it was turned back on, it showed a screen of pure static.
"You have to switch it to Input 2," the bailiff said.
Mr. Kincaid looked down at the remote in his hand.
"Not with that remote; that's for the Apple TV," the bailiff said.
Mr. Kincaid sighed loudly, walking over to the television cart where there was a small black bag with a Velcro flap. He loudly opened it and took out a larger remote, with which he switched the TV to Input 2, which stopped the static but then just showed a black screen.
"Now press the menu button on the Apple TV," the bailiff said.
Mr. Kincaid complied, and after a second the screen lit up, displaying several icons. Mr. Kincaid scrolled through until he clicked on the HBO Max title, but instead of an app, an error screen popped up.
"Is it connected to the WiFi?" Mr. Vincenzo asked.
Mr. Kincaid sighed again, louder this time, before scrolling over to the settings icon where he went to the connection. He selected "Courtroom 2 Guest," which brought up a password box. He then looked up at the judge.
"Your honor?"
The judge, who had been lazily sketching on a legal pad on the bench, humming the theme song from Game of Thrones, jolted up.
"Yes?" he asked, before seeing the screen and then continuing, "Oh, yes. It's justiceisblind, all one word, lowercase," the judge said.
Some people in the audience quickly pulled out their phones to connect.
"Hey," the judge said, banging his gavel, "that's not for everyone! Bailiff?"
The bailiff looked up at him, unsure of what exactly the judge wanted him to do to stop a few dozen people from leeching off the court WiFi.
"Remind me to tell Shauna to change that later, I guess," the judge said.
The general tapping soon ended as Mr. Kincaid slowly typed in the password, scrolling manually to each letter on a digital keyboard displayed on the screen. Once he finished, he went back to the HBO Max icon just to receive another error message.
"It's not HBO Max anymore," Mr. Vincenzo said.
"What?" Mr. Kincaid said.
"It's a different app now, just called Max," Mr. Vincenzo explained.
Mr. Kincaid let out the loudest sigh yet.
"Didn't you watch the episode in preparation for this case?" the judge asked.
"I have the DVD box set, your honor," Mr. Kincaid said, scrolling back to the main menu.
He scrolled for a bit before turning to the judge.
"I don't see it," he said.
"You can just download it," said Mr. Vincenzo.
Mr. Kincaid scrolled to the Apps icon and clicked it, searched for Max, and then clicked to download. A new message popped up requesting the administrative password.
"Alright, that's it," the judge said, standing up.
"Your honor?"
"The court will take a fifteen-minute recess. Bailiff, please call Shauna and have her come down here and get the episode ready to go. Knock on my chamber door when all Mr. Kincaid has to do is press play, and not one second before," he instructed.
"Yes, Judge," the bailiff said before grabbing his radio.
Several minutes later, the app was downloaded, the WiFi password was changed, and the jury was reseated.
"Thank you, Shauna," the judge and bailiff said in unison as the tall, red-haired woman with immensely curly hair left the courtroom.
"Uh, your honor?" Mr. Kincaid said.
"What is it?" the judge asked.
"The episode is buffering. I'll need the new WiFi password to continue," Mr. Kincaid said.
Now it was the judge's turn to sigh.
"It's justiceisblind1—" he started.
"All one word, all lowercase, the number one, got it," Mr. Kincaid said.
The judge nodded.
"Alright, at long last, if the jury will direct their attention to the screen, we can begin to watch the episode—" Mr. Kincaid said.
"Objection!"
"What is it, Mr. Vincenzo?" asked the judge, curtly.
"Your honor, my client was fired specifically for showing a murder to his ninth-grade English class after receiving a warning about showing violent media, after the class watched The Last of the Mohicans in the fall semester," Mr. Vincenzo started.
"Yes?" the judge nodded.
"Well, it appears Mr. Kincaid is starting at the beginning of the episode, but my client didn't show the entire episode, which may or may not feature violence. He only showed the final scene, set in the diner, and that we contend features no violence," Mr. Vincenzo said.
"What is the nature of the objection?" the judge prodded.
Mr. Vincenzo was now standing.
"If the jury sees an entire episode filled with violence, they may mistakenly associate the final scene with that violence. They should only watch the clip that was actually shown in class," Mr. Vincenzo remarked.
The judge looked up at the ceiling for a second.
"Once again, I'm inclined to agree. Mr. Kincaid, please skip forward to the relevant scene," the judge directed.
Mr. Kincaid's mouth was closed tightly, but he once again complied and scrolled along until there were only a few minutes left in the episode.
"Alright, can I press play now?" Mr. Kincaid asked, looking from the judge to the bailiff to Mr. Vincenzo.
"Please," the judge replied.
The scene played, and a few people in the audience gasped as the screen hard cut to black.
"Now, your honor, may I please call Mr. Zaldunardo to the stand?"
The teacher, a tall man with light blonde hair who was wearing a light blue suit and a pastel pink tie, made his way to the witness stand and was sworn in.
"Mr. Zaldunardo, can you please describe for the jury the scene that just took place?" Mr. Kincaid asked.
"Yes, uh, Tony Soprano—he's the main character of the show, he's a leader in a New Jersey mafia, and when the show starts, him and his uncle are—" but Mr. Kincaid cut him off.
"I think we can skip the series recap; just the last scene that you showed to your class," Mr. Kincaid said.
"Yes, okay. So Tony is worried about someone whacking him, which means killing, and he's at this diner, and his family is coming in one by one, and then when his daughter shows up, the screen goes black," Mr. Zaldunardo said.
"Because he was in fact murdered!" Mr. Kincaid said, pointing dramatically at Mr. Zaldunardo.
"No, I mean, maybe—we don't know," he replied.
"We don't?" asked Mr. Kincaid, scrolling backwards.
"If I may direct the jury to look at the shot choices here, and note the audio cues as well. First, Tony comes in; he rings the bell as he opens the door. The shot is of Tony, and then when the bell rings, it changes to Tony's point of view," Mr. Kincaid said.
He let the scene play to demonstrate this.
"Then we continue, and as Tony sits down, every time the bell rings and a new customer for the diner or someone from his family enters, it shifts again from showing Tony in the booth to his point of view," Mr. Kincaid continued.
"Objection! Is there a question here?"
"Overruled. He's entitled to explain his point."
"And finally, when his daughter enters and the final bell rings—the bell, by the way, is a well-known symbol for death, for whom the bell tolls and so forth—"
"Objection!"
"Sustained. Counsel will refrain from speculating on the potential symbolism of any bells," the judge said.
"Regardless, when the last bell rings, the camera then cuts to Tony's point of view for a split second before cutting to black, implying, through the language of film, that Tony has just been killed. Thus, you did in fact show a murder after your principal explicitly asked you not to!"
"Objection!"
The judge raised his hand.
"Mr. Kincaid, I did not see a murder," the judge said.
"Tony died?" asked one juror.
"Yes!" Mr. Kincaid said.
"Now, wait," the judge said.
"Maybe?" said Mr. Zaldunardo.
The judge banged his gavel.
"Alright, you've made your claim here, Mr. Kincaid. Anything else for this witness?"
"No, your honor."
Mr. Vincenzo stood up and walked over to his client.
"Did you see a murder on screen?" he asked.
"No," said Mr. Zaldunardo.
"Can you read this statement from the writer and director of the episode and creator of the show, Mr. David Chase?" asked Mr. Vincenzo as he handed Mr. Zaldunardo a piece of paper in a plastic file folder and then turned to face the jury.
"David Chase is the writer and director for—"
Mr. Vincenzo turned back around.
"Just the highlighted section, please."
"Oh, sorry. Uh, 'people wanted Tony dead. They wanted to see him die. I have never confirmed anything, and I am surprised by the uproar it caused,'" Mr. Zaldunardo read aloud.
Mr. Vincenzo turned back again towards the jury.
"The creator, writer, and director himself has not confirmed a death even occurred, and yet you were fired over this alleged murder!"
Mr. Vincenzo went on to pontificate for a while before eventually sitting down. After another recess, Mr. Kincaid called up another witness.
"Professor Van Amburg, are you aware of the concept of the death of the author?" Mr. Kincaid asked.
This line of questioning went on for a while, and the professor of literature at the local state college argued that the input of the creator was irrelevant. Mr. Vincenzo countered with his own professor of television at the local community college, who argued that a text open to interpretation is thus making all endings and possibilities available to the audience. They finally reached closing remarks, where Kincaid argued that Tony Soprano was in fact murdered on screen, and thus Mr. Zaldunardo deserved to be fired.
"Members of the jury," Mr. Kincaid began, "you are not simply ruling here today that my client deserved to be fired, but that Tony Soprano canonically died. Is that how you feel? You know, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that Tony Soprano is dead?"