“But as a shorty I looked up to the dopeman / only adult-man
I knew that wasn’t broke, man”
The beauty
of “The Wire” lies not just in its grander attributes, its social commentary,
its constant callbacks to continuity, and its creation of a credible and cromulent
(…and I’m done) Baltimore, but also in it’s simple pulp writing. The little
things, like the constant repetition of “man” as a punctuating statement to
many lines of dialogue in this episode (it’s only overtly obvious when Snoop
says it, but you can see it’s almost everywhere if you’re looking for it). It’s
rhythmic, and it sort of hints at a going battle that’s present almost
everywhere in the episode: what would a “real man” do?
There are
two places where this is most obvious. The first is an interesting
blink-and-you’ll-miss-it shot of Commander Rawls at a gay bar, clearly feeling
comfortable and in his element. I’m not sure how I feel about this, for a
reason that always makes me uncomfortable in the show: it seems to be hinting
at the grander theme that “sexual orientation (but you could just as well say
“race” or “gender”) doesn’t matter.” On one hand, this is a great sentiment:
much better characters not be defined crudely as “gay,” or “black.” But it
seems to me to be lacking in the other direction: I don’t think
race/gender/orientation is merely an add-on of a trait, and that all of them
are, in fact, rather important to one’s identity. I digress: it’s literally
just a second, but it’s one that does get at one of the maybe two or three things
that really bug me about the show.
The other
(at least obvious) place is with Cutty’s attempts to build up his boxing gym.
The kids come in, and Cutty, who has much more experience with murder than he
does with childcare, can’t quite handle the little rascals. He gets angry,
insults them, and they leave. Luckily, Cutty has enough people willing to
provide the advice he needs to hear, and the “don’t be willing to let them
fail” is a particularly good one (especially seeing the season that follows
this one). Chad Coleman, the actor who portrays Cutty, can go from “terrifying
mass of man” to “strong father figure” at the drop of a hat, which says a ton
about his presence. Cutty isn’t much for words, but he realizes that physical
strength doesn’t (or must not) always lead to a life as a soldier, and maybe
Justin (the boy who returns to the gym) can learn well from him.
If we view
masculinity as sort of a traditional position of righteous leadership, which is
admittedly enough of a dicey point where I’m going to mostly drop the thread,
we can see this battle at play amongst Stringer, Avon, and Marlo. Marlo, of
course, continues his path towards being the most despicable character on the
show, executing Devonne (who previously betrayed him) with three gun shots, one
in each breast and one in the mouth. It’s violence as sexual dominance, which
should come as no surprise having seen Marlo’s earlier sex scene.
Marlo’s
clearly the dark underbelly of what the “men” in the game do, making Stringer
and Avon the good guys merely by position. Of course, we see Stringer betraying
his life-long friend and partner to the police on behalf of the business, a
terribly underhanded move that nonetheless makes a good degree of sense. I
think Avon’s code is a ton more likeable than String, but look at it from an
unbiased perspective: if Avon gets what he wants, their business seems like it
will collapse, many more people will die, and my hunch would be that Avon and
Stringer both go down with the ship. Stringer’s Machiavellian plans may seem
terrible, but they make a good degree of sense (the grand tragedy is that the
guy who is best at “the game” is also the one most eager to get out of it).
Then, of
course, we have the biggest part of the episode: the confession of Hamsterdam
by Bunny. It was inevitable, as someone was bound to find out about a
mass-scale drug legalization program, but its descent isn’t as quick as he may
have assumed. Seeing Rawls and Burrell scramble to cover their asses, without a
single concern as to what the benefits are of doing so. Of course, government
isn’t completely without a tie to reality, and his use of public letters draws
a surprisingly supportive responsive from a desperate Royce campaign.
Everyone’s a selfish schmuck in their own way (Rawls perhaps the least, getting
the joy he does out of what happens), but still…
“Call it a crisis of leadership” –Prop Joe
Observations and What-Have-You’s
n
Carcetti feels really guilty about having to
betray Anthony Gray in order to win the nomination for mayor. He’s right, of
course, about basically everything: he’s the best of the three candidates (Gray
lacks the tack, and Royce is too apathetic), and honesty would ruin his
chances. He’s a political sociopath, surely, but he has emotions and functional
loyalties: nice to see them when they pop up.
n
Prop Joe cuts out Stringer: democracy has its
downsides when you’re on the wrong side of public sentiment.
n
McNulty is still upset about his failed
relationship with D’Agostino, who seems to think she’s better than him. “The
Wire” has an interesting relationship with the world outside of Baltimore: the
connections are hinted at, through the docks, the approach of NY gangs, but,
save for the concluding shot of Omar in the Bronx to Season One, Wallace in
suburban Md., and a plotline I’m not going to discuss in Season Five, we never
leave. It’s a proudly local show, and McNulty’s anger at D’Agostino (read:
Washington, DC) is also the showrunner’s (David Simon almost didn’t hire George
Pelacanos, the writer of the show’s next episode. As a warning, it’s one of the
show’s best, and the first to be nominated for an Emmy).
