THE WIRE: SEASON ONE – david simon – 9.5 / 10

Discussing individual episodes of The Wire as self-contained stories is as useless as talking about individual chapters of a novel as if they were separate stories. Thus, although The Wire is absolutely brilliant, it’s possible to view it as a complete failure as a television show since it is nearly impossible to enjoy in one-hour segments one night a week. But viewed on DVD, when the chapters (episodes) can be seen at any pace the viewer chooses, The Wire becomes something altogether different. It becomes one thirteen-hour masterpiece the likes of which I had previously thought television incapable of producing.

The first season of The Wire is an astonishingly assured piece of work. Every scene and plot development, every interaction is so convincing in its realism (credit here goes to the outstanding performances as well as the skilled writing and directing) that the story sweeps the viewer up in a way that almost no show before it has ever done. It’s so immersive that it almost defeats criticism altogether. And more than that, this is one television show in which, like in an auteurist work of cinema, every camera angle and word of dialogue means something and is rich in subtext. Unlike every other television show that values plot above all else, The Wire takes the time to set its scenes in places of symbolic importance and has its characters talk about things that obliquely reference the main themes being developed over the course of the season.

Take for instance the scenes in which Detectives Bunk Moreland and Jimmy McNulty drink near the train tracks. In the western genre the coming of the railroad to the unspoiled western prairie meant the death of the outlaw way of life and the coming of the industrial revolution. The railroad is destined to bring order and lawfulness to an uncivilized land (or at least a different, more refined sense of corruption). The appearance of a railroad quite literally means that the people here are at a crossroads and it hints that how they deal with this impending change is how they will be defined as people. In the same way, when McNulty is drinking at the train tracks he finds himself on the edge of a precipice, at a crossroads (usually, of course, it’s his own self-destructive nature that’s brought him to this point but nonetheless, here he is). Thus McNulty is like a western lawman, defined by the way in which he handles himself during the current crisis.

Additionally, the subplot involving Omar stealing from the Barksdales has distinct echoes of the western outlaw. It’s shot in a way that evokes the classic John Ford and Sergio Leone westerns. Couple that with the railroad and the overriding theme of the season starts to emerge, i.e. the coming revolution. Nobody is naïve enough to believe that the impending changes actually herald any real progress. But they will be changes nonetheless and whether the characters evolve and change with the world around them will primarily determine whether they continue to be a part of the police force (in McNulty’s case) or continue to live (in Omar’s case). Both are faced with the defining crisis of their careers or lives and must face it on their own like the gunslingers who meet in the street at noon to enact the climactic duel.

Obviously this idea of the police and drug dealers as heroic duelists is a bit overblown and melodramatic. And David Simon and his writing staff know this. But to the characters, to McNulty and Omar, this 'game' of theirs really does feel like the stuff of legend. They are the gods in their own myths. And if the viewer is to be fully integrated into this world, they must live it as the characters live it, complete with the unsustainable belief that what they're doing actually means something, that the revolution is coming and that it will change things. The reality that everyone involved knows deep down in the backs of their minds (and which is occasionally spoken aloud but never listened to) is that nothing can change the game as long as the rules remain the same (i.e. drugs remain illegal). But such thoughts would make it impossible to play the game and are therefore ignored or suppressed with alcohol or other controlled substances.

Thus it comes as an even greater blow when, at the end of the season, Lt. Daniels’s detail is denied a decisive victory over the Barksdales by the bureaucratic incompetence and careerism of the police force. And initially on first viewing this development left such a bad taste in my mouth that it tainted my enjoyment of the whole season. I knew that in reality this was the most likely outcome. I knew also that even if the detail was completely successful then other drug dealing crews would swoop in to take the Barksdales’ place. But so firmly was I invested in this titanic struggle between McNulty and Avon that I couldn’t bear that it ended in a draw.

It’s now become clear to me, however, that this is the true genius of The Wire. Its characters may believe that they are gods fighting a mythological war, and we the viewers might ourselves get so caught up in the story that we believe it too, but the reality that stands just outside these self-deluded people never forgets. And just when it seems that these mighty warriors have bent reality to their will, they have the rug pulled out from under them and they (and we) realize just how small and unimportant what they’ve invested themselves in really is.

This is, quite understandably, a crushing blow. And not one a television viewer is used to receiving. Thus the season, on first viewing, came off as disappointing. But I’ve come to realize just how much more valuable it is to hew closely to reality when the temptation to make it all end well must have been so overwhelming. The people behind this show must have been far more in love with their characters than I ever could be. And if they had the nerve to still remain true to how this would really be in the actual Baltimore, how then can I complain? Besides, having something end satisfactorily and having it end the way I want it to are not mutually exclusive options. It doesn’t have to all work out in order for the audience to be satisfied. Just like in every other aspect of the show, you can’t view the ending like you would that of any other show. It demands more from you and gives you much much more in return. And it somehow manages to get better each time you watch it.