The Wire: The Buys (S1:E3)

“You want me to lie so you can save face?”

                Ah, there it is. “The Wire” is the type of show that plays out so much in terms of seasons (as opposed to discrete episodes) that I had begun to wonder where, exactly, Omar Little was. Omar, the man picked by both ESPN and President Barack Obama as the best character on “The Wire,” isn’t the most important character on the show, but goddammit is he great. He’s Robin Hood with a Shotgun (which, coincidentally, would also be the best 70’s Grindhouse film ever made), a murderer with a conscience. Where I’m sometimes tempted to say that “The Wire” often throws a set of contradictions at a character and sees what sticks, Omar Little’s ostensibly confusing character traits never ring false to me. He’s gay, funny, caring, smart, and has a moral code, but he’s also often thickheaded and always horrifyingly vicious. It works, and a huge bit of that is the Olivierian presence Michael Kenneth Williams brings to the part.

                That being said, Omar takes up very little (get it?) of this episode. We, instead, spend most of our time with D’Angelo and McNulty. D’Angelo is doing well with the low-rises, earning the approval of Stringer (well, until Omar pops a cap in his underling’s kneecap). McNulty isn’t having his best days, what with Lieutenant Daniels forcing the Barksdale investigation to a premature stop by launching a bust that almost completely fails. This first season is even more focused that I remembered, with a lot of characters who are hugely important biding their time until their turn in the spotlight.

Luckily, one Lester Freamon, who had done literally nothing up until this point, decides he likes the cut of McNulty and Greggs’ jib, and decides to help them out, first by getting a picture of Avon the rest of the team wont find, and then by noticing some cryptic numbers on the wall of the low-rises. Lester is an interesting enigma at this point, an obviously brilliant detective with little else known about him. Why, for example, is a senior detective with that level of ability stuck working with schmucks (like the rest of the team) and troublemakers (like McNulty)?

And, keeping in line with what I’m prone to observe, there’s the economics of the episode. It’s a little more on-point than I remember it being: Stringer noting something to the effect of how he makes a crappier product and gets paid more, while the government doesn’t get paid anything for doing better? It seems like every time Stringer Bell speaks, a libertarian angel gets his wings. And if you’re wondering, I’m only half-kidding here (the comment also is talking, implicitly, about the issue of a monopoly on drugs…which is actually also a libertarian argument now that I think about it, because it’s a government created monopoly. Well, it also has to do with information asymmetries, so I’ll clutch onto that explanation).

Of course, I’ll leave with the scene most people would choose as their favorite (it isn’t mine, but it is great). We see D’Angelo, once again deciding to use nearby objects as a metaphor for the drug game, except instead of chicken nuggets, we have chess pieces. This one serves a dual purpose, as it accomplishes not only the dual task of providing a metaphor for the drug “game,” but also explains the sensitive nature of D’Angelo’s soul. He’s the guy who knows how to play chess, and he’s willing to teach the people around him. However, the best chess players usually don’t teach their strategy to just anyone.

“The King stay the King. - D'Angelo”

Big Miss

n  I have to go with McNulty’s visit to Rhonda Pearlman’s this time. McNulty’s ways with women (and related infidelity) is, long-term, handled well, but the scene makes him a little too much of a lovable rogue for comfort, with Rhonda’s closing, post-coital condemnation of McNulty just hitting the wrong note for me.  ….Although, I will admit, the cut from McNulty agreeing to leave to the sex is worthy of a laugh.

Big Hit

n  It’s gotta be Omar, doesn’t it? What I like about this is that it isn’t the grand, mythical entrance I would have expected, and I think that works well with how Omar is treated. Omar is a myth in the minds of the citizens of Baltimore, yes, but the show itself deliberately eschews such an approach. He’s shown, in the dark, and the gunshot he delivers to the kid’s knee is brutal. It makes clear the stakes of what Omar’s doing, a demonstration of how even the most upright man with a gun can still pull the trigger at any time.