Let's Re-Up

Good police.

We'll get to the particulars of Episodes 8 and 9 in a moment, but first, let me drop some general hater knowledge, which will be all the more effective as a contrast:

This has been the worst season of The Wire. How bad? Two of my favorite moments have been: 1) seeing Jim Jones standing on a street corner for about a second in Episode 8; 2) hearing Method Man blast Ghostface's "Be Easy" as he rode in his jeep to the re-supply spot in Episode 9. Of course, I have distinct tastes, but still, neither of those moments should have been able to overshadow the usual plethora of "Wire moments." However, that vast array of special television doesn't exist this year.

For illiterates out there, let me be clear: I am not saying that the show is bad. Nor am I saying that I don't love it. But a range of negatives have all coalesced this season, hurting what should have been a triumphant denouement. To list a few:

- 10 episodes, rather than 13, sucks. Period. The truncated schedule made the season's first half feel much too rushed and unsubtle. Gone were a steady procession of moments like Randy's cameo this year, or Kima fussing with the Ikea furniture, or Gus and his cohorts watching the Clay Davis verdict announced on TV. Those moments--when the show has traditionally made some of its most resonant points, or imparted observations that went beyond the substance of the show and spoke to some other truths that endeared The Wire to its fans--have been much too limited. The lessons that come from the contrast of Bunk quietly working his cases and getting no help while McNutty makes a spectacle out of nothing and earns a deep sea of support are more interesting and poignant than they are when Lester sits at a bar and simply proclaims that no one cares about mass murder if it happens to black people. However with ten episodes, you don't have the same opportunity for carefully crafted storytelling. You kind of need to just get through the plot.

And that's a good segue into this...

- The hastier narration has been especially detrimental because it has precluded a deeper understanding of the Stanfield crew, which is what this season needed were it to wield the same emotional heft of its predecessor.

What, ultimately, is interesting about Marlo? We know he has an impressive polo collection. And we've seen him lose his shit a little--"My name is my name!" But so what? Is there more to him? Is he just solely intent on owning the drug game? He is a decidedly shallower character than a Stringer or a D'Angelo. He's not even Frank Sobotka or Bodie. Marlo is almost more of a symbol than a person, an embodiment of the corrosive ills that run wild on the corners. The same is true of his peoples. What do we really know about Chris? Why does he work for Marlo, when so often he appears to bear burdens for which he doesn't care, incur risks that should not solely be his, and reap few rewards? The uncertainty and muddled view surrounding such important characters is very dissatisfying, and three more hours of Season 5 could very well have forged emotional connections that would have made the series' ending far more meaningful.

As it is now, The Wire goes out as a flawed incarnation of something we all know was great but now is something less.

- The media angle has been almost laughable in its simplistic construction. Templeton is evil; the publisher is evil; the managing editor is evil. Gus is good; the old guy who cracks grammar jokes is good; experienced reporters, like good police, are good and being squeezed out. David Simon knows how to run a newspaper better than, well, everyone. That is kind of what it boils down to, no?

It's been painful each week to watch Simon's heavy-handed portrayal of the Baltimore Sun, with a crusading editor who's never wrong and a publisher that defies belief in his obtuse out-of-touch-ness. The focus on the Sun is a story line devoid of nuance and intricacy, overrun by embittered distortions and grating absolutes. It goes without saying that in an era of Fox News and Wolf Blitzer, valid and smart media criticism cannot be voiced loudly or often enough. But to waste such an opportunity with a story that strains credulity through its pettiness and simplicity--who would have imagined that David Simon wouldn't deliver on something like this?!--is a disservice to the valid arguments that The Wire has clumsily sought to advance. The only parts of this element I've liked are the impact Templeton's lies have had on the other reporters (like when Daniels wouldn't speak with Alma) and the redhead who was an early Templeton skeptic. She's easy on the eyes.

- Weeks ago, I watched the show with a few friends one Sunday. We ended our time together by laughing and scoffing as McNutty turned out a woman on the hood of a car; Omar strolled along in a Caribbean paradise; Michael and Dukie got white girlfriends-for-the-day; and Marlo got familiar with the nuances of international travel. Nice Dolphin, n***a. I said at the time that in lieu of declaring that things--people, shows, whatever--had jumped the shark, we should instead start saying that such-and-such "had gone to the Antilles." I stand by that. We all knew at that moment that something was up. And sadly, it has been. The Wire went to the Antilles this season, literally and figuratively.

Episodes 8 and 9 stand in distinction of my criticisms. The last two weeks have been better. They've been slower while telling the story; they've given the characters and plots some room to breathe; they've left things unsaid, thereby saying more.

Omar's death was obviously the headline moment from two weeks ago. That it was Kenard who killed him was satisfying in Wire context the same way that the Sopranos ending only disappointed people who watched the show for vicarious violent fantasies. On a normal TV show, Omar would have had a showdown with Marlo or a Stanfield proxy, maybe Chris. But after honoring his code and making his point, Omar was ultimately no match for the institution--street life--with which he struggled. And he was got by just another wheel spinning as part of the endless cycle. I wasn't rooting for Omar very much this year. I found him less interesting, perhaps because, like other parts of the show, he was almost a caricature of himself. But nonetheless, it was still troubling and sad to see him fall victim to a system he fought. Particularly because his work was left unresolved. And yet, his death was sickly satisfying if you watch the show with the understanding that good things don't happen to the good people, and victories are never anything more than incremental failures or the fleeting stemming of an uneasy tide.

Episode 9 was a monster. Lest I start to ramble, let me record my thoughts as succinctly as possible:

- First, Bug and Michael parting ways made my unsentimental ass incredibly upset. Even worse was Michael's aunt closing the door on him, leaving Michael alone without a place. Dukie's sad withdrawal into the solemn and scary life of vagrancy is truly a story of a person without a home, but Michael is in similar limbo. He is not a soldier, and Snoop articulated something that has occurred to anyone who's watched since last season: he never was. Never was one of them, one of the Stanfield crew, one of the corner boys. He could play the role, but acting only got him so far. And so he is bereft of community now. He has no family, and as I wrote, he has no place. Bug, school, the game, his friends--all gone. It's so unsettling. To witness what has befallen Michael, Dukie, and Randy since last year began is an exercise in bleak reality.

- Chris, Cheese, Marlo, and Monk in prison was a great scene. Watching Marlo get worked up, put Chris in his place, assert his authority over Cheese and Monk--that was fun to watch. My man HR says that in establishing a connect with the Greek and killing Prop Joe, Marlo established depth for his character, demonstrating a relentless focus on running the Baltimore drug game that explains how Marlo behaves. I am not satisfied by this, as I find it to be somewhat threadbare and a colossal failure of Simon's ability to tell stories. But at the same time, the scene of the four men in prison, coupled with Marlo's jail-house conversation with Levy, did give Marlo more of a personality, as we saw his emotions and calculations. There had been plenty of the latter, of course, but when taken with the former, it made for a better character. And I suppose that in a season of lessons learned for Marlo--how to get a passport, how to manipulate the co-op, how to launder money, how to behave once on top--the startling realizations that came with being in jail were fitting extensions of the theme.

- The Bunk is good police who has done things the right way. As a result, only he will see any result next week when shit hits multiple fans and the McNutty-Freamon subterfuge comes undone.

- Bubbles is still boring, maybe more than ever now.