'The Wire' lifts the shirt of a city's underbelly
January 6, 2008
BY DOUG ELFMAN Television Critic
The final season of "The Wire," beginning tonight on HBO, boils down to career options: There's a lot of money to be made selling drugs. There is way, way less cash to be banked as a cop, a teacher or a journalist.
Dope is alluring, because it's the only thriving industry in the tougher parts of Baltimore. Savvy, murderous dealers ("CEOs") meet at a big table in a hotel conference room and chat about "market share." They're like corporations in collusion. They just haven't launched stocks yet.
What's good about "The Wire" (judging by the first seven episodes) is what's always good about "The Wire." It is an anti-"CSI" (less shiny and tidy) that presents the gritty details of the underbelly of crime and punishment.
Here, the nicest drug dealer, a teenager, has his best day yet when he gets to decide whether to protect his corner for the day, or take a break at Six Flags. Either way, he already pointed a gun at a young boy who's in the wrong place.
Meanwhile, a detective takes a bus to a murder scene, because insufficient tax dollars causes cutbacks, which leads to few squad cars and a ban on overtime pay.
And the new mayor shuts down an investigation into a drug-related serial murder spree because tax dollars are already stretched razor thin.
"The whole world shines s--- and calls it gold," a mayor's assistant says.
This fifth season of "The Wire" is again written by people who know Baltimore well. It's shepherded by David ("Homicide") Simon, a former reporter for the Baltimore Sun, and Ed Burns, a former Baltimore detective. Simon has complained of how difficult it was to persuade the Tribune-owned Sun to let him write complex stories describing myriad problems interwoven among cops, courts, politics and criminals.
So now he's introducing the Sun into "The Wire." The fictional Sun's writers and editors scramble for headlines and bylines despite dwindling resources.
"We have to do more with less," an upper-level editor says after staff buyouts.
"How come there's cuts in the newsroom when the company's still profitable?" a city editor asks.
What's better about "The Wire" is it's more capably paced than last season. Many main characters' stories seem to be told more concisely. It may be easier for new viewers to jump in and not feel confused.
The cast is flawless as always, particularly in the roles of Detective Jimmy McNulty (Dominic West), Marlo the drug lord (Jamie Hector), Detective Lester Freamon (Clarke Peters), Gus the Baltimore Sun city desk editor (Clark Johnson), State Sen. Clay Davis (Isiah Whitlock Jr.) and Tommy Carcetti (Aidan Gillen).
They've made "The Wire" one of the most acclaimed shows on TV this decade, largely for chronicling the daily heartburn of people trapped inside failed institutions. It's really quite good and oddly entertaining, as cynical as it is.
One cop, after tricking a suspect during a murder investigation, tells a buddy, "The bigger the lie, the more they believe." There's a lot of human truth in that statement. But there's also TV truth in it. We all love to believe "CSI" and "Law & Order" are possible. But they are fantasy. "The Wire" is the real deal, where life on the street is Murder Inc.
delfman@suntimes.com
BY DOUG ELFMAN Television Critic
The final season of "The Wire," beginning tonight on HBO, boils down to career options: There's a lot of money to be made selling drugs. There is way, way less cash to be banked as a cop, a teacher or a journalist.
Dope is alluring, because it's the only thriving industry in the tougher parts of Baltimore. Savvy, murderous dealers ("CEOs") meet at a big table in a hotel conference room and chat about "market share." They're like corporations in collusion. They just haven't launched stocks yet.
What's good about "The Wire" (judging by the first seven episodes) is what's always good about "The Wire." It is an anti-"CSI" (less shiny and tidy) that presents the gritty details of the underbelly of crime and punishment.
Here, the nicest drug dealer, a teenager, has his best day yet when he gets to decide whether to protect his corner for the day, or take a break at Six Flags. Either way, he already pointed a gun at a young boy who's in the wrong place.
Meanwhile, a detective takes a bus to a murder scene, because insufficient tax dollars causes cutbacks, which leads to few squad cars and a ban on overtime pay.
And the new mayor shuts down an investigation into a drug-related serial murder spree because tax dollars are already stretched razor thin.
"The whole world shines s--- and calls it gold," a mayor's assistant says.
This fifth season of "The Wire" is again written by people who know Baltimore well. It's shepherded by David ("Homicide") Simon, a former reporter for the Baltimore Sun, and Ed Burns, a former Baltimore detective. Simon has complained of how difficult it was to persuade the Tribune-owned Sun to let him write complex stories describing myriad problems interwoven among cops, courts, politics and criminals.
So now he's introducing the Sun into "The Wire." The fictional Sun's writers and editors scramble for headlines and bylines despite dwindling resources.
"We have to do more with less," an upper-level editor says after staff buyouts.
"How come there's cuts in the newsroom when the company's still profitable?" a city editor asks.
What's better about "The Wire" is it's more capably paced than last season. Many main characters' stories seem to be told more concisely. It may be easier for new viewers to jump in and not feel confused.
The cast is flawless as always, particularly in the roles of Detective Jimmy McNulty (Dominic West), Marlo the drug lord (Jamie Hector), Detective Lester Freamon (Clarke Peters), Gus the Baltimore Sun city desk editor (Clark Johnson), State Sen. Clay Davis (Isiah Whitlock Jr.) and Tommy Carcetti (Aidan Gillen).
They've made "The Wire" one of the most acclaimed shows on TV this decade, largely for chronicling the daily heartburn of people trapped inside failed institutions. It's really quite good and oddly entertaining, as cynical as it is.
One cop, after tricking a suspect during a murder investigation, tells a buddy, "The bigger the lie, the more they believe." There's a lot of human truth in that statement. But there's also TV truth in it. We all love to believe "CSI" and "Law & Order" are possible. But they are fantasy. "The Wire" is the real deal, where life on the street is Murder Inc.
delfman@suntimes.com
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