Nearly 20 years later, The Wire remains one of the most gripping shows to grace television
Season 2, episode 9 of The Wire begins with a shootout.
This shootout was a direct product of Bodie Broadus (played by J.D. Williams), one of the main characters in the series, and his crew beating up another drug dealing crew and kicking them off of their home turf. Guns are drawn in broad daylight; shots are rapidly exchanged between the two gangs, none of which manage to hit their mark. Interspersed between these scenes of violence are scenes of a mother yelling at her son to lay down on the floor while she hurries to the bathroom and lays flat with her daughter in the bathtub.
Eventually, police arrive on the scene, and the shots dissipate. The mother, as if nothing happened, picks her daughter up and tells her son to get himself ready for school. She gets no response, so she continues to berate him until she opens his door and finds her child slain, shot to death by a stray bullet.
Amongst the heaps of praise you have likely heard showered upon The Wire, I doubt that this scene has come up often. After all, season two is generally considered one of the weaker seasons of the show. But for me, this scene stuck with me even as I was finishing up the fifth and final season; the fact that something as traumatic as a shootout could be so normalized in the mind of a mother fucked with me. However, what mortified me the most about this scene is the fact that it’s deeper than a scene for some families…it’s reality.
Such is the case of The Wire, one of the most realistic depictions of urban life in all of television…or anything, for that matter. Written by former journalist David Simon and former police detective and school-teacher Ed Burns, The Wire is a modern-day tragedy disguised as a police drama set in Baltimore, Maryland, where both Simon and Burns worked in their respective fields.
Arguably what sets The Wire apart from its contemporaries is its willingness to delve into the police force as well as the criminals, allowing us to understand and, at times, empathize with both sides, despite neither being portrayed as morally righteous. We watch the personal lives of characters such as profound fuckup detective Jimmy McNulty (played by Dominic West) as well as empathetic drug dealer D’Angelo Barksdale (played by Larry Gilliard Jr.) and understand their struggles, their character flaws. However, we also follow characters like Marlo Stanfield, played by Jamie Hector, a ruthless drug dealer with no conscience with no light shined on his personal life because he doesn't have one.
Maybe the most impressive character work is done with characters Avon Barksdale and Stringer Bell, played by Wood Harris and Idris Elba respectfully. Despite being as close as brothers, the two figures in the drug game are diametrically opposed; Barksdale is “a gangster, I suppose”, and had a narrow view of the drug game in which he ruled, while Stringer wanted more out of it. Bell saw the opportunities that could arise for the two of them if they “went legit”, but Barksdale knew what Bell didn’t: that the game wasn’t built for them to operate like that. Avon was more hotheaded and unwilling to comprise on what he felt was rightfully his, while Stringer considered himself to be more level-headed and diplomatic, which made the irony of Stringer’s impossible demand of dealer and hitman Slim Charles (played by Anwan Glover) and Avon’s subsequent reprimanding of Bell for it in the climax of season three all the more powerful (“you a fucking businessman…you don't wanna get all gangsta wild with it”). The way their character arcs conclude is often labeled Shakespearean, and it’s hard to argue otherwise.
No character discussion of The Wire would be complete without mentioning fan favorite Omar Little, though. Played by Michael K. Williams, Omar is a marvel to watch onscreen; often described as an antihero of sorts, Omar goes by his own code, freely snitching on others in the game with no hesitation and regularly robbing drug dealers with his trusty shotgun However, unlike an individual like Marlo, he is shown to have a heart; he vehemently denies putting his gun on anyone who isn’t in “the game”, he mourns the loss of the people he cares about as a result of his involvement in the game, and he doesn’t kill anyone without a valid reason to do so.
Another aspect of The Wire that makes it the masterpiece of television that it is is how thoroughly it touches on the issues that lead to the characters we see on the screen. We are shown the corruption of the police system as well as the politics and the school system, among others. Characters like McNulty and Lt. Cedric Daniels (played by Lance Riddick) protest this broken system, but are ultimately punished for their actions.
Season four in particular is widely considered not only the best season in the series, but in all of television, and for good reason. The show made the risk of shifting the focus from the Barskdale organization we became enamored with over the last three seasons to four boys in the city of Baltimore. Duquan “Dukie” Weems (Jermaine Crawford), Namond Brice (Julito McCullum), Michael Lee (Tristan Wilds), and Randy Wagstaff (Maestro Harrell) all are considered some of the best characters the show has to offer; we see how the the destruction that the drug game can inflict upon the lives of even the young, from being labeled a snitch and targeted because of it to becoming a dealer and killer to even becoming an addict. It was surreal to watch these characters, and the other kids on-screen, for me because it reminded me so much of the peers I went to school with years ago, a testament to the realism that the show nailed from the start.
Right in the middle of these four kids’ storylines are Roland “Prez” Pryzbylewski, played by Jim True-Frost, and Howard “Bunny” Colvin, played by Robert Wisdom. Prez is transitioning as a schoolteacher after accidentally shooting another officer to death. Colvin, on the other hand, is forced to retire from the police force after illegally allowing drug dealers to operate in “free zones” to reduce crime. He chooses to focus on middle school kids more disruptive than their peers. Through these two characters and their new career paths, we see the frustrating practices of the school system, and how hard it is to effectively educate children within the system in urban communities.
13 years since it ended and almost 20 years after it premiered, The Wire remains so relevant because the landscape of urban society has barely changed since its inception and its epilogue. There are still issues of brutality in the police force, still a war on drugs in America, still children being left behind by the education system. It’s hard to say if these issues will ever get resolved in the near future, but it’s safe to say that the show and its legacy will continue to live on for years to come.
The Wire is available for streaming on HBO Max.
