The Wire: Backwash (S2:E7)

“It breaks my fucking heart that there’s no future for the Sobotka’s on the waterfront!”

                I’m usually a little bit too flattering in the reviews, so let me start out this episode by saying: this is a thoroughly mediocre episode of television. It’s still a mediocre episode of a great show, and “The Wire’s” season-long plots make it so that episodes are more consistent in quality than the worst of other great shows (“Sopranos,” “Deadwood,” “Mad Men”), but there’s really little going on of value here. We’re stuck with an oddly sitcom plot for Herc and Carver (will the really expensive gadget they got on loan on Carver’s credit break? What other wacky antics will those two get into?), a relatively mundane amount of policework, and a funeral for D’Angelo that lacks any real punch.

                I could rant about Herc and Carver’s subplot, but it’s small and not really integral for the main plot, so I’ll let it slide, mostly. However, the rest of the policework isn’t all that interesting either. Daniels taking back the case seems more like an example of plot necessity (getting the whole gang in one place, keeping the investigation in line) than what he would actually do. His motivation of “I like policework” is okay, and not wildly realistic, but it seems like the writers decided that the magical powers of Morgan Lester Freamon would be enough to do the trick.

                D’Angelo’s funeral is also surprisingly muted in its impact, which is, I think, a hugely missed opportunity. Bodie’s opening scene gets at why no foot soldier would care that much (codes of masculinity, etc.), but I still feel like seeing the funeral mostly through Stringer’s eyes is a mistake. Yes, we get how scummy he is, he’s even making eyes at D’Angelo’s baby mama, but we’re shielded from the actual pain Stringer has caused. It’s not even like the lack of mourning is a “Gatsby” tie-in: it just seems like the writer’s wanted this to be Stringer’s story, and it just comes out…bleh.

                The action with the Sobotka’s, meanwhile, is more worth following. Nicky is doing good work drug-dealing, getting Ziggy back his money and probably being able to move up in the world. He gets a great scene mocking the “wigger” (his term) Frog, not only because he’s attacking an easy target, but because he gets the specificity of “white” down. He’s laying bare the cultural heritage of the poor Polish Americans, and the slightly wealthier ones, and he makes that cultural distinction (it’s tinged with racism, but that only makes it feel more honest) seem like it has meaning.

                In Frank “That’s the way it was” Sobotka’s world, he sees the future, in the form of a corporate presentation on successful docks, and it is…labor-less. “The Wire” is at its best when it eschews direct nostalgia for a more measured approach, and this is a great example of it. We’re meant, initially, to side with Frank and Nat’s disdain for the technology that will ruin jobs in pursuit of safety, but…we see that the docks as are can kill a man, or otherwise cripple him. It’s unfortunate, but it’s true.

                The interesting thing about this season is that it isn’t just a narrative of economic progress destroying the old order, and bemoaning societal change because of it. Think of it this way: yes, industrialization was terrible (not as bad , but would you rather be working in a factory, or on a farm? That progress is, in and of itself, useful. The problems come when there is no more union, literal or metaphorical, to support you: no community to help out those in need. The problems come when you’re stuck in the Towers, more concerned about getting around the law to succeed, and willing to kill the “family” you have to get there. Progress is progress, good, bad or otherwise, and people have to make money: the question that follows is what communities are allowed to flourish in a new society. If that answer is bad, and no one’s left to help, well... shiiiiiiiiiiit.

“Don’t worry, kid. You’re still on the clock.” -- Horseface 

Observations and What-Have-You’s

n  As I said, this is a weak episode, as even the Sobotka scenes don’t stand out particularly. Things get better soon, in my memory, so don’t worry.

n  God, Herc and Carver. They have some good moment, but I just couldn’t handle the absurdity of the scene where the mike in the tennis ball breaks. It’s like watching the Frogger scene from “Seinfeld,” only surrounded by murder and heroin.

n  Bunk: “I’m the guy who’s humble and has a big dick.” Later “alright, I’m not that humble.”

n  I feel like there was a real chance here to deepen Brianna’s character, yet we end up with nothing. This is also, no spoilers intended, the last episode with Larry Gilliard Jr (D’Angelo) credited, so wave goodbye to him. Other innocents will fill his void, but D was probably the most integral.

n  McNulty, still not getting back with his wife. Woe is me. A problem with “The Wire” is that great characters, if they get stuck in a bad arc, usually stay in uninvolving plots for at least a good third of the season, maybe more. And this season, well: Jimmy, I love you, but you’re bringing me down.

The Wire: All Prologue (S2:E6)

“Family cannot be helped”

                “Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgastic future that year by year recedes before us…” concludes the most integral novel in our nation’s history, a quote very much in keeping with this most American season of “The Wire.” Frank Sobotka sees the future of the docks, a future steeped in its glorious past, even as no progress happens down at the legislature. D’Angelo sees a life after prison, outside of the drug game. McNulty’s Daisy comes back to him for a brief moment, and then vanishes in plain sight. All three men have created myths for themselves, the labor leader, the reformed criminal, the righteous cop. Even worse, all three have done a lot to get towards that myth. “It eluded us then…”

                There is only one myth that’s still functioning right now, and he’s stuck in the courtroom. Omar’s courtroom performance is perhaps the most defining moment for a character I’ve fawned about before (just because I’m obvious doesn’t mean I’m wrong), and with good reason. Omar must be more myth than man, a Greek God for a new generation. He manages, somehow, to outsmart Maurice Levy at his own game. We’re watching the jury watching Omar, and realize that in his world he is just as entertaining and riveting as he is in ours. His unapologetic criminality belies a more contemplative nature, the kind of guy who earlier would help a guard with a crossword puzzle and would make it devastatingly clear the emotional revenge he is enacting on Brandon’s behalf.

                Everyone else, meanwhile, is exactly who we thought they were, paraphrasing Dennis Green. D’Angelo is trying to turn over a new leaf in prison, but from the moment Stringer hires someone from outside of Baltimore, we know at least the general direction it’s heading in (although, the first time I saw it, I was pretty surprised to see his death happen basically according to plan). D’Angelo is largely absent up until this point of season 2, but he gets a hell of a goodbye.

His monologue about Gatsby, which I alluded to up there, is splendid. This might be an odd thought, but stick with me for a second: it’s really easy to see, especially considering Season 4 of the show, how D’Angelo could be a teacher. He cares for kids, like Wallace, and he is unusually capable of using a metaphor to make a point. The grand tragedy of D’Angelo is that he is graced with an extraordinary understanding of how the drug game works and its grander moral implications, but can do nothing about it because he realized a little too late.

The episode’s third major strand, involving the Sobotkas, was bound to underwhelm when viewed in comparison to the other two plotlines, but there’s still some good stuff. Frank is called out for his “timely donations” lie about the money he’s been throwing around, and it’s here I have to applaud Chris Bauer’s work. He’s confronted so often with evidence of his misdeeds, and it always seems to upset him, but not to shake him. He’s the old guard, the guys who remained unquestionably silent in courtrooms, but with every episode you can see the pain accumulate.

We also have what I think is Ziggy Sobotka’s finest moment, damning with faint praise as I am. His dockside conversation with his dad has an unusual rhythm that I think is splendid. There’s something just slightly off about how quickly the father and son respond to each other, which seems to me both true to intergenerational relationships and perfect for this one. Ziggy is telling his dad how much his past formed him, but his father can’t see who Ziggy truly is. There’s been a break in the chain, and the families that once defined the lives of our characters are capsizing, boats against the current, borne ceaselessly into the past.

“It don't matter than some fool say he different...” – D’Angelo

Observations and What-Have-You’s

n  The police work is pretty perfunctory this week. Greggs and Cheryl (who has forced her way into it), along with an entertainingly awkward Prez, journey to a stripclub to find out about how Eastern European sex workers operate in today’s world.

n  I like that Daniels, in spite of his honesty last season, is still clearly careerist in bent, refusing to take on the murders. He’s good police, but he’s also pragmatic, a nice shading in between, say, McNulty and Rawls.

n  Bunk vomits in his early-morning meeting, and I love seeing Wendell Pierce playing other sides of Det. Moreland than badass.

n  McNulty getting kicked out by Elena seems cold, but deserved and understandable. She probably was looking for blood more than anything (even the brief tantric shag session), and she got hers. We may feel sympathy for Jimmy, but remember that we never got to see the devastation of his earlier infidelity. Regardless, this plot doesn’t interest me all that much. Luckily, this plot is winding down, too, which means more docks, more Barksdale, less domestic drama.

n  Who hangs themselves on a doorknob? At least have the common decency to put the guy on that chair right next to you and find a ceiling fan or something.

n  Also another in my series of “The Wire isn’t just about realism and that’s OKAY” rant: the episode is clearly setting us up for suspense by not having Stringer mention to the contract killer who he wants killed. It’s relatively obvious after a point, but the show is still a work of drama designed to create suspense…which is OKAY! Omar would never be as love as he is in the courtroom…which is OKAY! It’s all minor suspensions of disbelief in the pursuit of more rewarding dramatic conclusion (the irony of D’Angelo being killed after looking to change, the thief outwitting the lawyer in the courtroom: both pack more punch if they aren’t played as full-on realism. It’s like the kind of guy who writes all of his inner and/or contradictory thoughts in parenthesis (shitty, cheap writing tool, but effective for writing 50 blog posts in a month (oh goddamn fourth wall))).

The Wire: Undertow (S2:E5)

“Thieving motherfuckers take everything, don’t they?”

            Most robbers in Baltimore are like Omar. They steal money, they steal drugs, and they might even take lives, but they’re pretty straightforward about what they’re taking. From the beginning of this week’s episode, however, we realize that there is a much grander form of robbery going on around Baltimore: the robbery of history. Nick Sobotka can’t afford his aunt’s old house, because the area it’s in has gentrified. It’s no longer “Locust Point,” it’s now called Federal Hill. The Sobotka’s Baltimore, of steel mills, of docks, is vanishing. No one’s to blame, really, (do we really think Elena McNulty is some outsider) and it’s an unavoidable situation. Heck, I’m pretty sure whoever inherited Nicky’s aunt’s house profited from it. But, in the process, in the myriad turnovers of the property, there’s a legacy lost.

            What, then, to put in its place? The episode gets a good bit of humorous mileage out of white people imitating blacks (“wangsters,” or its slightly more offensive variant). Herc relishes in interacting with these guys, mocking them even as he tries to bust them for dealing. They use the “N-word,” as Ziggy does, and try to act tough. They’re “stealing” from black legacies, as Carver points out, so it’s almost a little too entertaining to see Cheese rough up and threaten Ziggy. Almost.

            The answer to the whole process is simple: innovate, or die. Stringer and Bodie are both keen observers of their world, and they realize that something has to be done to prop up the Barksdale Organization. Stringer looks to his economics professor for help, who offers up the example of WorldCom (it’s now part of Verizon Wireless) rebranding and offering low prices to respond to a competitive marketplace. Several recommendations come up, like new caps for their drugs, but Bodie proves to be the most adept monopolist of all, setting up fake competition amongst the towers whilst they will actually be colluding to sell the same product. It’s damn good business, and a none-too-subtle comparison between corporate fraud and actual criminal enterprises.

            Unfortunately, the government and union employees prove to be far less efficient (Yay, free market!...kind of, I’ll try to flesh all the angry economics rantings in these reviews at some point, probably at the end of the season. Until then, let the contradictions just kinda hang, and just assume I’m bitter about everything). Valchek is still clearly obsessed with his personal feud with Frank Sobotka, and even Daniels is more concerned with his professional path than actually doing good policework. We still have mostly “good police” this season, especially on the beat, but they’re limited in what they can do. McNulty travels to Jersey City (the Baltimore of the NY area) on his own time, and that does little good. Safe to say, little progress on the BPD front this week.

            Frank, meanwhile, is being forced to make compromise after compromise this week. When he yells at Beadie for saying he would never let women die on his docks (which he did), he clearly means it, but has been forced into dealing with people he wouldn’t otherwise. He tries to stop the deal, but he knows that he needs the money to save the economic futures of his fellow stevedores. Looking out onto the docks’ old factories, Spiros reminds him just how fragile his position is.

“They used to make steel there, no?” –Spiros Vondas

Observations and What-Have-You’s

n  Cheese is played by Method Man, and his scenes prove what we’ve known for some time now: “The Wu-Tang Clan ain’t nothing to fuck with.” This also makes Method Man a major actor on what might be the best show of all time (“The Wire”) and what might be the worst (“Method and Red”)

n  Ziggy is such a damn screwup, he gets conned by Frog. God, he’s so bad at everything.

n  Beadie gets some information out of an old boy-toy of hers, which is probably the only progress that police have in this episode. I have said before I’m a fan of what Amy Ryan does this season, and I think the tenderness she shows is a great combination of genuine concern and regret over a lost relationship, and a pragmatic need to do her job. She’s a really sweet character, but there’s a knowing fatigue underneath it all.

The Wire: Hard Cases (S2:E4)

“This ain’t back in the day”

            Louis C.K. has a great standup bit about how, in his estimation, unmarried people mean nothing to the world. “You can die and it actually doesn’t matter…I have two kids and my wife doesn’t work, so I don’t get to die,” C. K. says. Ziggy Sobotka could die in one of his amateur robberies, and it wouldn’t really matter to everyone on “The Wire” (and everyone watching “The Wire, probably). Nick, on the other hand, so when he’s stealing, the stakes are much more intense. When Beadie goes to work everyday, she’s doing it to provide for her kids. She was lucky: her chosen industry, policework, is probably the only legal industry experiencing any growth in Baltimore, but it’s not hard to see another world where a legitimate offer doesn’t come around and Beadie has to do something as unethical as the Sobotka clan. “The Wire” isn’t a family-centric show (because almost all involved come from broken ones), but Season 2 is a little different. It’s a season about legacy, about leaving something behind, and the consequences of what happens when there’s nothing left to leave.

            Frank is miffed, understandably, at his nephew and son for stealing, although the show makes it clear that it’s less a matter of crime, and more a matter of timing (they can’t afford frustrated customers when they’re already in such desperate straits…pun not intended). Nick understands, but because he needs the money to provide for his family, he decides he’ll just be stealthier about it. Want makes people innovative, and if Nick could get rid of his idiot cousin, who’s too busy showing off his ridiculous Italian leather jacket, he might be able to get away with everything. I think it’s easy to say that, even if Ziggy is Frank’s actual son, Nick is much closer to him in character. The real tragedy is that if Nick were born when Frank was, he’d easily be able to support a family, like Frank did. But that’s not how the world works.

            Meanwhile, the police work is starting to heat up. “The Wire” is pretty good at setting up highly plausible explanations to keep its cast around, and one of the ways it does so is with a tremendous amounts of patience. Instead of finding a deus ex machine to get the whole gang back together, it waits until episode four, and even then leaves McNulty out in the docks. Daniels and Greggs pose an interesting counterpoint to Nick’s predicament. Nick thinks he can’t get work elsewhere, while Daniels (and presumably Greggs after she gets her law degree) has the ability to go into another industry. And almost does. In the end, though, the pull of policework, plus a better pension opportunity, makes it impossible to leave. A lot of the constrictions our characters face are often subtle like that.

            We see another one of these explanations occurring inside the prison. Avon is, per usual, a damn good druglord, and has managed to kill two, possibly three birds with five dead bodies. He uses the crisis surrounding the “Hot Shots” he got shipped into prison to both get rid of the guard harassing Wee-Bay, and reduce his sentence to functionally a year. Prison is a fact of life in the drug war, but unfortunately it’s a little too static for a work of drama (“Oz” might disagree, but this isn’t that show), so seeing momentum on that front is always good. He even gets D’Angelo off heroin, although in the process D’Angelo has decided that he can no longer handle associating with Avon. D’Angelo’s character arc in prison is interesting: between the drug use and the comic books, I almost think he’s trying to live Wallace’s life for him. Freedom, in many kinds, is on the horizon for at least a few of our characters. But a girl I knew had something to say about it just being another word for having nothing to lose.

“If I hear the music, I’m gonna dance” –Greggs

Observations and What-Have-You’s

n  I’m pretty sure Ziggy takes what is, in all probability, one of the earliest dick picks in recorded history in the bar. I think I blocked out how much Sobatka penis there was in this season.

n  First female nudity of the season (at least, on a non-corpse), though, so there’s that.

n  Fantastic mid-episode scene of Greggs and Daniels telling their respective spouses that they’re going back onto detail work. It’s a little showier than most “Wire” scenes, what with the shifting camera and the cuts between the two locations, but it works wonders. Dinner-table montages have been the stuff of great drama since “Citizen Kane,” and this one is probably the highlight of a solid, if unspectacular episode.

n  I’m relatively “meh” about McNulty’s in the episode, even though he’s really trying to do three things. I don’t care about his wife’s separation papers at all, as I’ve mentioned, nor the tracking of the family of the first dead girl. However, his enlistment of Bubbles in finding Omar leads us to the great, almost slasher-movieesque scene of Omar confronting Bubbles. Never too much of either of those two characters, and Omar testifying against Bird is probably my favorite scene of the season.

n  Freamon and Bunk, meanwhile, are working with Beadie to try and make headway on the 13 murders. It’s done well, and I like the more-informed, almost organized crime response the union has to the police. They resemble the mob more than any criminal organization on the show, which probably says something about what has happened to the heydays of unions and mobsters.

n  One last thing: it may have been a quirk of the weather, but the greys of Baltimore in winter are even more pronounced in this episode than most. It’s almost beautiful, in a horrible way.

The Wire: Hot Shots (S2:E3)

“That’s market saturation”

                There’s a really, really boring term in economics called “labor hysteresis.” Now, normally the term is used in debates about business cycles, recessions, etc., but its general point is that when you have a period of long-term unemployment, one of the biggest harms is the atrophy of laborers. Statistically, if you get into the workforce during a recession, you are less likely to be successful for your whole life. Lost generations, in a sense of people, described by as academic a term as one can find. I doubt David Simon, Ed Burns et al. were concerned with the terminology, but when they came up with Nick Sobotka, they came up with the best demonstration of it I can think of.

                See, Nick isn’t a dumb, or bad, worker, but in the field he’s in (dockwork), he’s woefully young. As work vanishes, seniority dictates that the guys who have just gotten into the industry will be the ones not working. Nick is at best a part-time worker, and as time has gone on, he realizes he has less and less solutions. He’s too old (has a kid) to start elsewhere, yet his lack of work prevents him from, perversely enough, getting work. Sometimes, this just means poverty: for Nicky, it means resorting to illicit activity.

                The clock is ticking on the careers a lot of the characters of “The Wire,” and most of them know it. Daniels is probably the lucky amongst the screwed-over. He has the experience, and the law degree, so he can put in two-weeks notice and start again elsewhere. It’s an accurate assessment of the economy, especially in the years that followed the show: those with an education are flexible, and can respond to job losses, while people like Nick and Frank are stuck in dying industries. McNulty and Greggs are trying to ride out their crap jobs (they can’t be fired because their government. It’s good for them, but causes problems in that unit that is so incompetent PREZ feels like he has to say something. So, tradeoffs).

                We see our first real glimpse of D’Angelo’s prison stint here (surprising, because he probably had the second-most screentime of any character in season one). He’s not taking it well, snorting heroin and clearly depressed. Luckily, Avon manages to sneak him the “wink wink, nudge nudge, I’m going to poison all the heroin in the prison” hint, and tries to remind him of the estimation he holds his family’s importance. For a show that deals in ironic commentary, it’s a sort of double-twist that Avon may be the first crimelord in entertainment who actually means what he says about family. He’s clearly ruthless, but he’s willing to make exceptions for his nephew who took 20 years in prison. We all need collective strength, and Avon puts his hope in the oldest form of it.

“What they need is a union” – Russell

Observations and What-Have-You’s

n  Stringer is particularly dolty in this episode. Although the “cellphone market is saturated” idea was ironic even at the time, it’s especially ridiculous now sent from my iPhone. He also does the incredibly scummy thing of sleeping with D’Angelo’s baby mama, which I’d feel angrier about if D didn’t have another girlfriend during all of season one (another gender complaint, I know, I know)

n   McNulty’s wife separates from him. I don’t care.

n  Ziggy is stupid, but he actually negotiates up the price with a dealer of stolen goods.

n  Frank’s negotiations with the government officials are entertaining, as he’s clearly a political guy but so far out of his element. Senator Davis pops up again (he’s still scummy, but has he said “shiiiiiit” yet?), hinting at how difficult it will be for Frank to bribe his way to the changes he wants.

n  Why is Sean Paul’s music played two times in the season’s first three episodes?

n  I didn’t talk about it, but the opening scene where Bunk and Freamon interview the multilingual crew of the boat is absolutely hysterical, and my favorite part of the episode.

The Wire: Collateral Damage (S2:E2)

“…so they’re cargo”

                Human trafficking is a funny phrase. The word “traffic” conjures up the incredibly mundane image of delay, of too many cars on the road. The odd thing is that it is appropriate, because human trafficking as a phrase performs the same work as the act of human trafficking. It dehumanizes. It makes them into the objects they are being treated as (and not always “objectification” in a gendered sense. I refer to the literal use of people as commodities, with no trickery intended by the phrasing). Of course, there’s another word for human trafficking that perhaps serves as a better descriptor, one we rarely bring up nowadays: slavery.

The 13 dead girls (“Jane Does” might work better to prove this point) aren’t murder victims; they’re cargo. The Greek is upset because he lost his cargo, the cops don’t designate it a murder because it was a cargo malfunction that ruined the shipment of girls, and even McNulty, the guy who forces others to label the investigation “homicide,” equates them more with shots of alcohol than with people. They were objects to be traded, and when one of them malfunctioned (by refusing to have sex), they were thrown off the boat. It’s slavery, right down to the use of boats, and it’s still going on. And although the labels that allow one to launder the horrors of the act into mere business transactions have changed, not much else has changed.

Even God himself seems like he can be bought (and, like slavery, it’s not like that idea is anything new). Valchek, still miffed about Sobotka’s window at the church, begins to abuse his power and starts, well, abusing the stevedores of the docks. Without warning, they are all ticketed. Frank agrees to meet with Valchek, only to cuss the Deputy out after he makes it clear he is targeting the docks only because of the window Frank donated. Valchek might very well be the pettiest of all the careerist policemen we deal with on the show, and his subsequent DUI arrests (at 8 AM) and surveillance of the docks shows how easily power corrupts those on the force. By the damndest stroke of luck, however, Valchek’s spurious conclusion that Sobotka is on the take turns out to be 100% correct.

Frank gets to do a lot of righteous yelling this episode, later going to see Spiros to demand an explanation for the 13 Jane Does. Spiros is upset too, although for different reasons (like any good trafficker, he understands that dead people means a worthless product), and so goes to get the information out of a crewman by a little torture. The Greek manages to flesh out what actually happened: the crew were using the girls for sexual favors, and when one of them got killed while the rest witnessed, he killed all 13 to get rid of the evidence. Spiros makes sure he meets a similar fate, which proves a perhaps ironic counterpoint to the message of our epigraph of the week:

“They can chew you up, but they’ve gotta spit you out” – McNulty

Observations and What-Have-You’s

n  Meanwhile, the drug trade! It’s still happening, even as we spend little time outside of prison this episode. Wee-Bay is getting harassed by a prison guard whose cousin Bay murdered (probably: he may very well have just taken the heat for it). Avon tries to sort it out, but realizes that he’ll need Stringer to apply some pressure, as direct appeals don’t exactly move the man. D’Angelo is on drugs (as happens to all the broken souls on the show), and Avon realizes that his mental state may very well be a concern.

n  McNulty also manages to accidentally screw over his old partners Bunk and Freamon, as although they theoretically shouldn’t receive the murder he forces on Baltimore PD Homicide, Landsman gives it down to them. Although I think Landsman’s compliments are meant to be taken with a grain of salt (after all, he is screwing the two over), they also seem authentic: Bunk and Freamon are, probably, the two best detectives in homicide, and he really does need their help. Sweet, almost.

n  Ziggy is still a screw-up, trying to peddle drugs from a connection he has only for the connection to laugh because he’s messed up the last two times.

n  Eggs and beer: the breakfast of champions (and early-morning DUI arrests).

n  Man, a lot of male nudity this season, right? First Ziggy’s barroom show, and now McNulty and the tortured shipman’s ass.

n   Rhonda isn’t happy about her and McNulty’s relationship direction. This shouldn’t be news.

The Wire: Ebb Tide (S2:E1)

“It’s all about self-preservation, Jimmy”

                Here we are. Season 2. Take a nice deep breath, everyone: you’re going to need it. I feel like, from what I’ve heard, this is probably the most polarizing season of the show, with some people considering it the worst and others finding it to be at least top 2 (Season 4, of course, is the prevailing choice for that honor). The docks plotline that is introduced here is really interesting, because I think it’s what makes “The Wire” such a fundamentally American show. The first season did a great job in fleshing out the patterns of the drug trade, absolutely, but that was sort of its own world. It was a show about cops and robbers, with hints of other stuff operating at the margins. This season, I hope, manages to make “The Wire” a tale about how the Drug War’s damage is widespread, affecting traditional American institutions like labor unions and trade.

                We meet, towards the beginning of the episode, the various members of the Sobotka clan that helps run the docks. Frank is shown, from the beginning, as concerned about saving the docks. Traditional American working-class jobs are disappearing (McNulty and his partner comment on this when they discuss when their relatives got fired from the steel factory at the docks). It’s an American problem, certainly, but also one specific to Baltimore. They haven’t had any good infrastructure (like, say, a deeper canal. Bad institutions beget bad institutions sort of thing. And, again, apologies for the overuse of that word, but its useful in tying the show together), so the Inner Harbor, the port of American myths like Babe Ruth, has gone to crap. Frank is going to do what he feels it takes to fix that problem, even if it means looking the other way when smuggling comes in.

                Nick and Ziggy, on the other hand, are of a different generation. Tony Soprano’s first therapy session begins with him observing that he is “feeling like he got in at the end,” and Nick and Ziggy are the embodiment of that feeling. Nick can’t get hours, even though he is in all probability an effective worker, because his Baltimore has always been one of decay. Nick manages to deal: literally. Ziggy, on the other hand, is, at the risk of being crass, a shithead. I’d venture to say he’s probably the most disliked character on “The Wire,” a drunken idiot who pulls out his penis in public so he can entertain others. He’s a whimpering embodiment of a child spoiled by the older generation, a guy who’s largely unbearable to be around. That’s the entire point, but that doesn’t make his scenes any more enjoyable to watch (although I think they strengthen the tragedy of the docks plotline, especially for Frank).

                The introduction of the docks does not mean, however, that we are abandoning what has come before. Bodie is tested by Stringer, spending the whole episode panicking that he’ll be blamed for the lost narcotics. Stringer is many things, among them willing to murder anyone who screws up minorly, but at this point he is also dreadfully efficient. It comes out he trailed Bodie and knows he did nothing wrong. However, the rest of the world doesn’t repay the favor. His NYC drug connection bails after Avon’s light sentence causes him to suspect that he may have been turned in return for information on the (Colombian?) drug dealer. Things are rough all over.

                I’ll often refer to the first few episodes of each season as “placesetting” for what comes next, and this episode is no different. We see where every cop is, who the new faces are, and even set the tensions for what will come (Stanislaus Valchek’s jealousy over Sobotka’s donation to the church is, while ridiculous, also a great indictment of how men in power’s seemingly benevolent acts are really just self-interest of a higher form). And then comes the big moment: Detective Beadie Russell (Amy Ryan’s work on the show is probably my favorite by a female, for reasons I’ll get into later) finds 13 dead bodies smuggled in a container Frank let through. Frank was a man willing to look the other way before this, but he realizes at the end of the episode what the show has shown us all too many times before. When it comes to The War on Drugs, nearly every action has a body count.

“Ain’t never gonna be what it was” – Little Big Roy          

Observations and What-Have-You’s

n  Every time a computer screen pops up on the show, I have to ask when they’re going to switch to make the switch to Windows XP. I know, a petty thought to start with, but goddamn do those computers look old.

n  The version of the theme song has switched, as it will every season. We get the original version of “Way Down in the Hole” by Cookie Monster Tom Waits, which is probably my favorite one as well. His voice is just so desperate-sounding, an always-appropriate theme for the show, but especially this season.

n  Seemingly everyone from the old unit, save Herc & Carver and Bunk & Freamon,             is pissed about their current situation. In no particular order

o   Greggs gets called, entertainingly, pussy-whipped, by Herc, and clearly isn’t all that happy about Cheryl’s attempts to get pregnant. It’s clear that she’s addicted to the adrenaline of police work, and probably loves it more than even her family (“The Hurt Locker” does probably the best job I can think of in entertainment of exploring this phenomenon).

o   McNulty is clearly hating every moment at the docks, and the most joy he gets is by screwing over his old colleagues at homicide by dumping a body on them.

o   Daniels gets shockingly shafted, being put down in the miserable basement that is the evidence department. Of course, he is pretty nonplussed about the whole thing.