The Wire: Moral Midgetry (S3:E8)

“There’s a War on War”

            Let’s start with the ending. “The Wire” is often described as novelistic, as opposed to, say, episodic television, and you’ll find no better evidence than in the episode’s conclusion. This show is an investment, and although you might not find discrete episodes that are as fantastic as some standalone episodes of “The Sopranos,” moments like this are worth waiting for. It’s one of those great fights, almost like one between a married couple, where all the tensions that have gone unsaid in a violent, crushing exchange. It’s short, actually, but that doesn’t make it any less painless.

            Avon finally calls out Stringer for performing the role of businessman, while not living either that part or the part of a true druglord. It’s a totally valid criticism, but I think the episode also shows us that Avon might not be quick enough for the game anymore. Face it: he’s not as brutal as Marlo (and we’ll see evidence of that next week), he doesn’t have soldiers as talented (“Would you rather…meet Chris Partlow or Snoop in a dark alley”), and he’s missing as much of the picture as Stringer is. Stringer’s the more scummy of the two, absolutely. But, more than anything, Stringer and Avon share the same fatal flaw: a lack of recognition that together they are far more than the sum of their parts. This makes it all the more crushing when Stringer reveals to Avon he killed D’Angelo in a fit of jealousy (Avon fights back, but “loses” due to his shoulder gunshot wound. It’s easy to dismiss Stringer as cheap in the fight, but based on the actor’s muscle tone, I wouldn’t doubt Idris Elba’s fighting ability). The violence is relatively tame, but the crushing part is the silence afterwards, with only the two men’s heavy breathing in the air. It’s an excruciating minute of television, seeing a friendship, a lifetime partnership really, broken up in one moment. Even if String is still an ass.

            How did Avon get wounded, you may ask? I’ll tell you. Marlo may not seem human, but he does seem to enjoy the, um, basest of human pleasures, at a club one night. Avon has set him up, in a way, using the girl as a way to draw Marlo into the open. The plan backfires, however: Chris Partlow is always around, ominous (he gets minimal dialogue this season, but his presence is that of the Grim Reaper’s), and when Snoop catches a guy bringing four sandwiches to a car outside Marlo’s motel, he makes his move. He only clips Avon, but he takes out Sandwich Man. In essence, Avon learned that not only is he not dealing with a fool here, but he’s dealing with an organization even more wildly cautious than his own.

            And Avon would have gotten away with it too, if it weren’t for someone insisting on working within the construction business and not playing everything in the drug game cautiously. Stringer gets played so obviously by Clay Davis, giving him God knows how much money as a bribe (I always use “Dodgeball” when trying to figure out how much money is in a briefcase), and doesn’t realize he isn’t ready for the “big leagues.” He’s a known murderer, thug, etc., and that reputation doesn’t work well even in the businesses of Baltimore.

            On another note: how much of an ass is McNulty? Making passes at Kima (KIMA!), pretending to be racist because he assumes someone in Virginia whose a cop must be racist (which ends with the great reveal that he’s married to his black deputy), and then just absolutely ruining Brianna Barksdale with guilt. McNulty insinuates that only Donnette cared about D’Angelo (but she didn’t, BECAUSE SHES SLEEPING WITH STRINGER!) when only D’s family, she and Avon, really gave a shit. McNulty’s tactics work, somehow, but he’s due for a rude awakening. He’s just not as good at police as he thinks he is, and one of these days his cocky side should get the best of him. Or maybe not: difficult to tell in Baltimore.

“Crawl, walk, and then run” –Clay Davis

           

Observations and What-Have-You’s

n  THIS IS 2004: No Usher this week, but we do hear J-Kwon’s stone cold classic “Tipsy.”

n  Marlo even has sex creepily, although I must admit that “It worked for me” is a beautiful post-coital sentiment.

n  Carcetti looks longingly at footage of himself speaking in the council, like a teenager watching “Fast Times at Ridgemont High” for the first time.

n  “I see a man without a country. Not hard enough for this right here, and maybe, just maybe not smart enough for them out there”

n  If you’re a Springsteen fanatic, like me, you’ll notice an impressive thing standing in the background of the gym Cutty visits: Clarence Clemons, “The Big Man” saxophonist of The E Street Band. I don’t know why they casted him, but it was an awesome decision.