Once again, The Wire taps into genius
By TIM GOODMAN
San Francisco Chronicle
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If you've finally decided to see what the fuss is all about with The Wire, congratulations, but you need to go back to the start to enjoy this landmark series to its fullest. Rent or buy the seasons.
-TIM GOODMAN
THE WIRE
8 p.m. Sundays, HBO
David Simon, creator of The Wire, is not only a television veteran but also a former journalist who knows jaded from bitter and, one might guess from the downbeat story lines in his achingly realistic drama, a guy who understands the human condition.
No doubt, then, a small part of him must be relishing — nay, enduring — what amounts to more cold truth about life. And especially life in the entertainment business. First, his show — which will go down as arguably the best drama in the history of television — is getting more attention than it ever has. The Wire — either because people finally started to listen to a rising chorus of critics or because The Sopranos is retired or because pop-culture buzz has no discernible reason to it — is the show everybody's talking about right now.
But it doesn't matter.
Season 5 is the culmination of brilliant, nuanced storytelling, exceptional acting and a fearlessness from Simon and his writers from the get-go in telling novelistic stories on television without pandering.
As for this grand finale, The Wire doesn't disappoint (has it ever?). Simon returns to his familiar themes of institutional incompetence, soul-crushing bureaucracy, retrograde human behavior and the perseverance it takes to survive and the sadness that comes when you can't.
All the regulars who weren't either killed off or cashiered at the end of Season 4 are back, more desperate than ever. For all the danger that exists in The Wire — drug dealers, rogue cops, kids who kill for thrills, ignorance, the brutality of capitalism — it's always the desperation of failed systems that drives people toward doom.
Simon's next big theme — there's a new one every season folded into the mix — is the media. On the surface, the travails of the Baltimore Sun — Simon's old newspaper that he fictionalizes in The Wire — mirrors the decline of the American newspaper business. Every paper — from the New York Times to the Chronicle — can see its issues reflected at the Sun: declining ad revenue, cutbacks and buyouts, ethical lapses, worries about relevance, etc.
But in The Wire, the Sun is suffering the same fate as the Baltimore Police Department, the mayor's office, the school system and those who support the infrastructure of the city — the people are being asked to do more with less, and the results aren't pretty.
But using the media as the big-picture idea in Season 5 also serves a greater good for the writers. The Wire needs some kind of closure. Simon and his gang of novelists and former journalists have been illustrating the dire failings of Baltimore (and American society) for some time now, so it's fitting to see how that story can be missed even by the very people paid to tell it.
The failure of the media to fully report on the systematic decline — a virtual death — of the city it covers is a natural to both Simon and The Wire. He has issues with the industry of journalism and everything goes to hell in The Wire.
In many ways, this timely new story line and the resolution of others in the series — told with both brutal realism and compassion — combine to make it almost too easy for critics to continue the lovefest. What's not to like? Many newspapers are poisoned by the exact issues — and the types of people — depicted in The Wire. Why should cops and lawyers and doctors get all the microscopic attention to their fields and the moralistic soul-searching that comes with it? Journalists and journalism are ripe for exploration and vivisection.
And the inevitable coming together of antagonists, protagonists, the loved, the hated, the innocent and the venal as story lines converge on The Wire is almost too sublime an enjoyment to adequately describe.
No point in getting into spoilers this late in the game. Let's just say you'll see a lot of faces from all the seasons. And yes: "Omar back." But there is a quibble to be made regarding Detective McNulty (Dominic West), the ostensible main character and through-line of The Wire. He makes a decision — admittedly fueled by desperation and a sense of outrage — that doesn't ring entirely true. It's not even that the action is out of McNulty's realm of possibility, especially now that he's started drinking again. And, in fairness, it meshes intriguingly and cleverly with a story line at the Sun. But it's a bold move that could raise some eyebrows among longtime, loyal fans. And let's face it — the point has been made here that the audience is mostly longtime, loyal fans.
That said, there are still three more episodes (HBO sent seven of the 10 in advance) that haven't been seen, so there's no telling how it will wrap. And truthfully, there's so much credibility on all levels of The Wire that even the sudden appearance of Jack Bauer from 24 couldn't mess it up.
It's been a pleasure to witness the genius of The Wire all these years. It's inconceivable that anyone would ever be able to make a better cop drama.
And in the end, there will likely be a lot of unhappiness, dead bodies, same-as-it-ever-was institutional failure, lack of responsibility and the triumph of self-interest over the greater good. Not exactly a Hallmark card, but one hell of an artistic achievement.
Season 1: The Wire is an ensemble series, but we first meet the person who is essentially our guide through the brutal streets of Baltimore, Md., Detective James McNulty (Dominic West). Since he's ``good po-lice'' as they say in the series, he's spending a little extra time on getting more support to bring down Avon Barksdale (Wood Harris) and Stringer Bell (Idris Elba), the virtually unknown but powerful drug dealers running West Baltimore. A wiretap, hence the title, is used in an effort to bring down the Barksdale gang.
Season 2: Simon decides to shift the focus of the series from the drug war in America to, of all things: ``the decline of the working class in American cities, focusing on the Baltimore waterfront and its unions.'' While the drug angle becomes a ``B'' story line, we get a magnificent look at a different murder (well, actually lots of them) and the crumbling of a city.
Season 3: The drug war is back as the main story line this season, but with a couple of twists. First, there's a new player in West Baltimore, Marlo Stanfield (Jamie Hector), a laconic, new-school drug lord who's ruthlessly efficient. Simon's bigger theme here is politics and how it fails its citizens.
Season 4: Season 4 focused on the failure of the public school system and how the youngest West Baltimore children became ``corner kids'' - slinging drugs - faster than anyone in the schools (or the police department or outreach programs or families) could save them.
Season 5: The bigger theme in this season is ``the media's role in addressing - or failing to address - the political, economic and social realities depicted over the course of the series.''
