The Wire: Lessons (S1:E8)

“You think the job is gonna save me? You think it’s gonna save you?

                Last summer, I worked at a job (actually, an internship: I didn't get paid) that I really hated. I didn’t specifically “hate” anyone in my office, but something about the combination of rigid bureaucracies, people unconcerned with anything but themselves, and the everyday monotony of work just ate at me. It’s a pretty universal experience: hating your work. What’s so amazing about “The Wire” is that it deromanticizes just about everything we’ve come to believe is…well, romantic. Our image of criminality is horrifying, sure, but there’s a seductive appeal to criminality. We think cops are Bruce Willis and Mel Gibson (well, maybe “The Wire” shows us they are Mel Gibson). In reality, they’re Ron Livingston from Office Space.

                The “hustling” in this episode pretty much all occurs within the police and Barksdale organization. Herc and Carver are trying to pass their Sergeant’s exam, Stinkum is due for a promotion once he kills a local nobody, and Lieutenant Daniels has to shut down the wire so Deputy Burrell doesn’t torpedo his career. Heck, Stringer Bell is even trying to get a degree to move up in his career, in a way. Everyone is just doing their job, and looking forward to moving up the ladder.

                On another note, let’s talk about minor pet peeves (smooth segue, right?) The one thing that always gets me in this episode is that Stringer is taking a macroeconomic class, when it’s obvious that what he is (and should) be taking is microeconomics. He doesn’t need to know about monetary policy, government spending effects, etc: he needs to know about consumer/producer decision-making…Rant over. Regardless of the poor naming, the business classes will be a recurring theme of Stringer Bell’s career in the drug game, as he tries to play everything hyper-rationally. It also shows us why he’s advanced so far in his career: he’s got ambition, as even a smirking McNulty has to acknowledge.

                These classes, in a way, explain why he would advocate for a truce with Omar. He’s trying to play a long-game, and he understands that on the way there he may have to hold back on vengeance and other goods. Avon is less cerebral and more visceral: Omar stole from him, murdered his men, and he needs to kill him not only because it’s right, but because he’ll look weak if he doesn’t. Avon and Stinger’s partnership works best in moments like these, when their corresponding strengths and weaknesses balance each other out, and it’s good to see just how damn good their decision-making apparatus is, especially compared to, say, the police.

                Speaking of which, what a mess those cops are. Deputy Burrell gets mad at Daniels for investigating the state senator’s aide found with 20,000 dollars (the aide is played by Donnell Rawlins, best known for “Chappelle’s Show.” You may remember him best as either “Ashy Larry” or the guy who yells “I’m Rich, Biotch!” at the end of every episode.”) The police’s industrial complex is massive, and there are so many political forces at way that it’s no surprise that getting stuff done is difficult (unlike the two-headed dictator leading the Barksdale organization).

                Bunk, meanwhile, decides that pulling the old McNulty with a random girl at the bar as the real McNulty covers for is wife is a damn good idea. It ends poorly: Bunk, out of guilt, burns his clothing to get rid of all the evidence, and McNulty is forced to take him home. Bunk mutters a drunk comment about how McNulty is bad for those around him, one of those “too true to say aloud” moments that happen usually under the influence of alcohol. Although I’d like it if one of our cops could stay faithful to their significant other, the plotline largely works by building on the solid foundation Bunk and McNulty have set up.

                And I’ll end with the standout scene of the episode, although it is very much in keeping with “The Wire’s” sense of anticlimax that it doesn’t end the episode. Stinkum, about to receive his promotion, and Wee-Bay are ambushed by Omar. Stinkum drops dead pretty much immediately, while Wee-Bay takes one in the leg and limps off. Omar is pure menace in this scene, and it’s just flat-out awesome. He also gets the money line of the episode, a lesson that Stringer should learn in his economics class but probably won’t:

“Come at the king, you best not miss.” – Omar

Big Miss

n  Easier choice than usual this week: Judge Phelan’s pulling of rank on Deputy Burrell. It’s getting a little too easy to just use the Judge as a deus ex machina to keep the wire going, and I don’t think the character beats make a lot of sense. Why on earth does the guy care so much, and why would someone listen to him again and again? And why does McNulty keep coming to him begging (implicitly) for help if he’s going to be so pissy about it as he does it? There are reasonable answers to both questions, but the acting underwhelms.

Big Hit

n  In order to avoid picking McNulty and Bunk (although they again have a standout) or Omar every week, I’ll instead choose D’Angelo’s discovery of the dead dancer. What’s great (read: terrible) about it is just how benignly Wee-Bay reacts to the whole thing, and how little disregard he has for human life. Wee-Bay, I think, ends up being one of the show’s stealthily great characters, and you could see his blend of evil, charisma, and even sympathy (especially when Omar comes for him) right here.