“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))).
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