The Wire - All Prologue: The Green Lights of Baltimore

The Wire – All Prologue

Season 2, Episode 6

Directed By: Steve Shill

Written By: David Simon, from a story by Ed Burns and Simon

Read out “The Wire” Project here. Read about the previous episode here, or click here to see the total coverage. Assume spoilers for the episode

            Why does David Simon identify with D’Angelo Barksdale more than any other character? Of all the members The Wire's sprawling cast, it is often D'Angelo who becomes a microphone for Mr. Simon’s themes. Mr. Simon never sold drugs or had a childhood that led him to prison. Sure, he spent a lot of time around drug culture (see: The Corner), but there is something truly unique about why he chooses D’Angelo; the man continues to hold onto the fact that he can escape. McNulty and the cops see that their efforts will have little effort. Stringer and the higher up drug family know they are tied to a certain life and cannot rise above it. And the port men see their livelihoods slowly fading out of existence. But D’Angelo still believes in the possibility of escape.

            But it is an impossibility, nonetheless. The highlight of “All Prologue” is a speech where D’Angelo explains The Great Gatsby to the prison book club. “There are no second acts in America,” someone quotes Fitzgerald, which inspires D’Angelo to explain that as much as we want to escape our past—our crimes, our passions, our family—we are inextricably linked to them. And many characters slowly realize in this episode that they are, in fact, tied to their past.

The Wire - The Cost: Showtime

The Wire: The Cost

Season One, Episode Ten

Directed By: Brad Anderson

Written By: David Simon, from a story by Simon and Ed Burns

Read out “The Wire” Project here. Read about the previous episode here, or click here to see the total coverage. Assume spoilers for the episode.

            When shows like The Sopranos and later The Wire came along, it’s easy to forget they really attempted to do something that was seen as insane in the television world: tell stories. Now I don’t want to say that shows from beforehand didn’t attempt to do that—Buffy the Vampire Slayer had an intricate cast of characters and a complex plot, and of course Twin Peaks really changed everything and then some—but it was HBO that really pioneered the idea that television could tell stories like cinema, and not waste a minute. There’s no place for “drug dealer of the week” on The Wire, and I’d be surprised if we ever get a bottle episode.

            And in “The Cost,” we really get the ball rolling on the numerous plot developments this season. I’m not sure whether David Simon knew he was going onto four more seasons, or for that matter one, so much of this episode is set up for the final three hours. But what an intense hour it is! “The Cost” opens in perfect bliss, and ends in total ugliness and shock. Much of the tone of this thrill ride comes from director Brad Anderson, a no name in 2002 who has gone on to make some great thrillers like The Machinist and Transsiberian.

The Wire - The Wire: Past Due

The Wire: The Wire

Season One, Episode Six

Directed By: Ed Bianchi

Written By: David Simon, from a story by Simon and Ed Burns

Read out “The Wire” Project here. Read about the previous episode here, or click here to see the total coverage. Assume spoilers for the episode.

            One of the most striking things in “The Wire,” the sixth episode of David Simon’s The Wire, is its ability to emphasize characters who usually have no role in our sympathies. Yes we indetify with former addict Bubbles because he’s in the end a good guy, but what about the street thugs who we don’t even know their names. Well director Ed Bianchi gives us a very curious introduction to Wallace, one of D’Angelo’s thugs. Using a few behind the head tracking shots that are in no doubt influenced by the Dardenne brothers, we see Wallace as he wakes up in his trash home, awakens his five younger siblings, gives them their lunch, and sends them off to school. Why is this kid selling drugs? There’s your answer. However, as patriarchal as Wallace must act as home, he’s not ready to see the image of Brandon, shot, stabbed, burned, strangled, and tortured, a result of his call last night.

            The theme of “The Wire” is not so much the simplistic “actions have consequences,” but a more nuanced idea that every debt has to be paid eventually. D’Angelo, having slept with a stripper, makes chit chat with her in the morning, as she asks about his other girlfriend. “She wants clothes, a credit card with her name on it,” he replies, and then says “Pussy is never free.” D’Angelo is realizing that everything he wants comes with a hidden cost, and all the characters get that tonight.

The Wire - The Pager: Out of Sight

The Wire: The Pager

Season One, Episode Five

Directed By: Clark Johnson

Written By: Ed Burns, from a story by David Simon and Burns.

Read out “The Wire” Project here. Read about the previous episode here, or click here to see the total coverage Assume spoilers for the episode.

            I’ve been recently reading Sidney Lumet’s great book Making Movies, all about his pragmatic insight into what a director does. Mr. Lumet was a true artist and a list of his films—12 Angry Men, Serpico, Prince of the City—shows a lot of the precedents in both tone and theme for David Simon and The Wire. But one philosophy stuck with me: Mr. Lumet always believes in coming in under budget, and not just wasting money for the sake of art. He understands his contract to his investors, and part of his creativity comes from such limits.

            The last scene in “The Pager,” directed by Clark Johnson (his third episode) and written by Ed Burns (his first) is a pitch-perfect example of a great scene that may have been limited by budget, but works better because of it. As retaliation for Omar’s rampage on the Barksdale crew, Avon orders a hit on his fellow gang members, and near the end of the episode, a couple of young workers spot Omar’s lover at a pizza joint. Instead of a big chase and murder sequence, all we see are phone calls, being traced through pagers that the police have tapped. All we see are the phone calls and the numbers being written down, but Mr. Johnson knows how to quicken the pace of this, while showing nothing that is inherently cinematic, and not even using music, just the sounds of dial tones, button pressing, and data being processed. When we hear the last phone call, “it’s done,” it’s a brutal end. This sequence—the best in The Wire so far—matches the best of Spielberg and Lumet, and proves you don’t have to show your cards to lay down a cool hand.

The Wire - Old Cases: Meditations in an Investigation

The Wire: Old Cases

Season One, Episode Four

Directed By: Clement Virgo

Written By: David Simon, from a story by Simon and Ed Burns

Read out “The Wire” Project here. Read about the previous episode here, or click here to see the total coverage Assume spoilers for the episode.

            After three rapid fire episodes of plot from David Simon’s The Wire, “Old Cases” gives us a slower tone and more character-based episode. As the title implies, “Old Cases” is not only about an old case that detective McNulty tracks down, but about the old cases that define many of the characters we’ve already grown to learn about. Everyone has a story to tell, and each of them has their own investigation that needs to happen.

            Unfortunately, this is the first time that I feel that Mr. Simon has started running over the same ground at a few points. Most notably is the very unmemorable opening where Herc (Domenick Lombardozzi) is attempting to get a desk through a jammed doorway. Each cop comes to help with no progress, until they realize Herc isn’t trying to get the desk out, but in. It’s a bang-your-head-against-the-wall metaphor for their police work, except the whole thing is kind of pointless and a silly gag. We’ve gotten the round-a-bout efforts of our heroes in this story numerous times already, and as compared to the other cold opens, the gag is simplistic.

            No worries, though—no baseball player bats 1000, and it’s the character details that really lead this narrative. The case that McNulty and Bunk Moreland hunt down seems like a wild goose chase, a murder of a college student in an upscale part of Baltimore where the killer may have been nicknamed “D,” which might be D’Angelo. I think the scene where they solve the murder is more than a bit self-indulgent (they only say variations on the word “fuck” throughout, cause, well, why not?), but still fun.