[Update: This is a blog essay about The Wire: Season Four. If you like what you read, feel free to come back again. You can also subscribe to my blog feed using this link. Thanks for reading!]
For awhile now, television critics have been saying that "The Wire" is the best television show ever made. Anyone who's seen the show in its entirety would be hard-pressed to disagree.
By now, fans have probably already read all the adjectives and descriptions that have been trotted out in the glowing reviews of this HBO Original Series. "The Wire" has been described as a "60-hour novel," a "brilliant," "addictive" piece of work, and a trenchant social commentary into American life. I love this show deeply and have encouraged people to watch it, lending them my DVDs if necessary (I own all three seasons). A little part of me dies inside every time the show is completely ignored during awards season.
In the first season, I was dazzled by the intricate world of drug dealers that the show portrayed, in what was probably an unprecedented look at the methods, procedures, and lives of both drug dealers and the cops that hunted them. Avon Barksdale was a kingpin that was larger than life, a myth as much as a man. His right hand man, Stringer Bell, carried an air of brilliance, cunning, rationalization, and Machiavellian coldness that would eventually lead to his undoing. And that's not even mentioning the brilliant portrayal of the cops, all of whom have memorable roles. The second season did the unthinkable by adding in a dozen or so more characters, while retaining many of the old ones. We were riveted by the tragic decisions that faced Frank Sobotka, by the street-smarts of his nephew Nick, and by the frustrated masculinity of his son, Ziggy. Finally, season three crystallized Creator David Simon's thesis: We, as citizens, are trapped, in profound and significant ways, by our institutions. Major Bunny Colvin's ill-fated decision to strive for reform paralleled Stringer Bell's attempts to do the same; by turning part of Baltimore into "Hamsterdam," he boldly faced off against a system that did everything in its power to take him down.
In short, seasons one through three were virtually flawless. They introduced us to memorable characters, juggled complex storylines in a satisfying way, and made us think about our place in American society in a way that no television show has ever been able to make us do. Upon repeated viewings, my preference is for Season Two, whose story embodies so much pathos and gravitas that exerts an undeniable power over the viewer. But I wouldn't hold it against anyone if they had a different season that was their favorite.
[THE FOLLOWING CONTAINS MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE WIRE: SEASON FOUR]
Which brings us to Season Four.
Where Seasons One through Three brought us into the drug trade, the working class, and the political system respectively, Season Four sought to bring us into American's urban education system, which is basically broken and apparently made worse by the Bush Administration's draconian "No Child Left Behind" act. Having worked in a variety of school settings myself, I can say, with my exremely limited experience, that the show's portrayal of the urban school environment rings true, with its well-intentioned teachers and administrators heavily burdened by an overbearing bureaucracy and forced to "teach to the test." But it's the show's portrayal of four students which make up the bulk of the new season and which ultimately make up the season's emotional core.
Randy, Michael, Namond, and "Dukie" are four kids based off of real students that the show's creator once knew, amalgamations certainly, but their lives are all chillingly plausible. As with previous seasons, the show gives us time to learn about these kids, to watch them mature, and to root for each one as they take their individual path towards a fate that may or may not be of their own making. The results are tragic, heartbreaking, and rarely uplifting.
David Simon has said that there's a myth in this country that if you work hard enough, no matter what your circumstances, you can go on to achieve great things. This is the politically conservative stance, the position that "poverty is a choice." "The Wire: Season Four" tries to give the lie to this myth, and paint a different picture of America, an America where the kids are surrounded by overwhelming violence, where even if they achieve at school there's not much of a future ahead of them, where money can be made quickly and easily by dealing drugs, and where cooperation with the authorities (be they school or police) is met with disproportionate punishment on the streets.
There were many things to like about Season Four. For one thing, the acting continues to be top-notch; I can honestly say I have never seen such masterful acting from teens before in my life. It never occurred to me that Randy, Michael, "Dukie" and Namond were actually being portrayed by actors. The show retains its ingenius method of letting the characterization happen naturally, at least at the outset. We are given subtle hints about these kids lives, from Randy's doting but firm foster mother to Dukie's complete inability (due to family circumstances) to maintain his personal hygeine. The characters are all memorable, with Jamie Hector doing a chilling turn as the ultraviolent Marlo. The Snoop and Chris characters also deliver amazing dialogue that manages to be humorous as well as blood curdling. Omar continues to be a complete badass. The show's portrayal of institutions is also at its best, as we see incompetent policemen rewarded, and effective teachers punished. Finally, the parallels it draws between teachers in a variety of settings is clever and interesting. In one sequence we see a shockingly ineffective Homeland Security briefing parallel a drug soldier training session in the techniques of killing. Great stuff.
I've seen lots of coverage on "The Wire" recently. I read articles in "The New York Times," cnn.com, as well as online magazines Slate and Salon. It heartens me to see the show finally getting the coverage it deserves. But in lavishing so much praise upon it, I fear that critics have ignored some of this season's flaws. Here are some of the flaws that I saw:
1) The show spread itself too thin - whereas previous seasons were able to introduce a plethora of new characters without detracting too much from previously running storylines, this season introduced four new characters, each with their own storyline, and focused on them intensely. There are also numerous other new characters, which took the form of school administrators and other students that each had a bit of a story arc. Consequently, every character necessarily got less screen time, and we learned less about them all than we would have in previous seasons.
This was clearest in Cutty's storyline. Whereas in Season Three, Cutty had a convincing and gripping story arc which took him from hardened soldier to kind-hearted gym trainer, his arc in Season Four seems cut dramatically short. We saw him searching for Spider over the course of many episodes, and only when he finds him does he begin to realize that his philandering ways could have a dramatic impact on his students. Spider's belligerent response in which he says something like "No one's gonna hurt me" is one of the most heartbreaking moments of the series, but Cutty never really comes to terms with the consequences of his actions. He makes a cringe-inducing and half-hearted apology to the kids at his gym, but there's not much more that he does to come to terms with the fact that to be a role model to these kids, he must be a role model in every aspect of his life. In the season finale's montage, we see that Cutty is now with the nurse that took care of him with the hospital; are we supposed to believe that he has seen the error of his ways and changed? I got the feeling that's what we were suppoesd to think but the show didn't earn it from me.
All of this also took away screen time from the police angle of busting Marlo, which arguably was the ultimate driving force of seasons 1-3. The Marlo storyline was a compelling one and although it was meant to be incomplete, it had a far less satisfying ending (I would argue, an almost completely unsatisfying ending) than Season One's ending, which itself left lots of loose ends open regarding the Barksdale crew but managed to reward you and give you some sense of closure.
The other two flaws that I'll detail ultimately stem from this first one.
2) Characterization - I'll just come right out and say this: I didn't buy Michael's transformation from shy and obedient schoolboy (who lovingly took care of his little brother) into Marlo's street soldier. To order the hit of his pervert father seemed like a tortured, but plausible, decision, but for him to shortly afterwards become a cold-blooded killer, offing a street dealer and coldly disposing of the weapon, was a stretch that I wasn't ready to make and that I didn't feel the show deserved. The only interstitial step we really see are a couple encounters in which Michael is more violent than usual as he beats up on a few kids. This transformation bore several similarities to Catherine Zeta Jones transformation into drug kingpin, which we witnessed in the American version of Traffic: Both were fairly implausible and both would have benefitted from a lot more time to flesh out the changes. In the case of "Traffic," we can see the immense difference that a few hours make, as the British miniseries "Traffik," (on which the US version is based) has a far superior portrayal by Lindsey Duncan of the painted-into-a-corner housewife forced to take matters into her own hands. Unfortunately, we'll never know what would have been with "The Wire", and although Michael's character is incredibly well-acted by Tristan Wilds, the changes he makes ultimately don't ring true.
3) Implausibilities and lame plot devices - "The Wire" is almost Dickensian in the way it plays with its plot and this is clear throughout all the seasons. Warrants are typed up just minutes too late, murders are committed completely out of the blue that affect the case at hand in dramatic ways. But whereas in previous seasons these plot devices seem well-incorporated and well-thought-out, in season four they seem tossed off and lazy.
The biggest example of this in the way which Bodie is disposed of, and how that plot device is used to drive McNulty's return. Bodie was always one of my favorite characters, a constant source of comedy relief as well as a fascinating look into the psyche of a street soldier. Near the end of Season Four, Bodie is eating in a diner and McNulty randomly bumps into him. They share a short meal in which few words are exchanged, but this apparently leads to some sort of connection which causes Bodie to confide in McNulty in an attempt at taking down Marlo. Rather than build this relationship from the beginning of the season, as the show usually does, it is made into a short chance encounter and the result feels like just a convenient way to shoehorn McNulty into the next season (who I definitely want to see more of, for the record).
And that's another thing: I can buy that Marlo is ruthless but the degree of ruthlessness on display here is wildly implausible. He's offing people left and right "just because he can," as Bodie puts it...just becuase somebody might have been possibly seen with the cops. You'd think after awhile there'd be an uprising of some sort; a man can't rule by fear forever, I would think, even on the street. If this was the degree of indiscriminate killing going on, wouldn't Snoop and Chris start to get suspicious of each other after awhile?
Finally, I was shocked to see how the Namond story was resolved. Thematically, it seemed like Namond should have somehow died as a result of his incompetence and weakness, but the show takes a baffling turn by having the Colvin adopt him. This is confusing and unbelievable on a number of levels. As I mentioned, the show seems to want to say that the street eats kids alive if they can't cut it. Namond is shown, on a number of occasions, not to be made of the material that is necessary for survival. For him to be shown mercy, while Randy gets completely screwed over, seems pretty inconsistent with everything else in the season, as well as the series.
Furthermore, though I can believe that Wee Bey would want to have the final say over how and where Namond ends up (and his berating of Namond's mother comes off as utterly plausible and very satisfying), to see him agree to surrender custody to a former policeman is completely unbelievable. Though Wee Bey's character is extremely likable and a fan favorite, he is still cold-hearted killer and I would think that from his perspective, for him to give up his child, especially to a former cop, would be to somehow surrendering his masculinity (even if this is not the case). I definitely did not think it would play out like it did in the show, in which Bey confides "You're asking too much" and then an episode or two later, he gives Namond up.
The final shot of the season, in which Namond literally sees his past driving off into the distance of the peaceful suburbs, encapsulates what was so wrong with this plot development; "The Wire" desperately wants you to believe that there is almost never a happy ending, and for this to be one of them, let alone one this implausible, feels like a betrayal of sorts.
**
There is much more to say about the series and in particular this season, and if people respond ot this blog, I'd love to engage in further dialogue about more of the things I loved and hated about Season Four.
Ultimately, "The Wire: Season Four" feels like half a season, in much the same way "Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest" felt like half a movie. But whereas the latter was a bunch of mindless action and eye candy, the former tried to stimulate thought in a nuanced way (for the most part) and should definitely be applauded for the effort.
Though I thought Season Four was vastly inferior to the other seasons, I'm willing to wait for Season Five, the final season before I pass judgment. "The Wire" remains my favorite show, perhaps still the best show on TV. I hope it goes out with a bang, and not the whimper that this season went out on.
[This blog post is part 2 of a 3-part series. Go here for part 1 about "24"]
