It's All Connected -- Which Means There's No Escape

Nevin and Jason, you've both highlighted something in your posts that I'd like to talk about in a slightly different way after last night's episode, and that's this idea of everything being connected. Things are not only connected, but in Baltimore, they're all part of the same larger System, or Machine. What last night's episode highlighted for me, and what I think is going to be the legacy of the series, is that, for the most part, the System destroys people, especially people who care. The only people who can get a break are those with enough power to escape, a choice not available to most. Those who are spared within the System are spared only due to chance. It's not because they've made better or worse choices or deserve it any more or less. And, the fact that they survive isn't always a victory in itself. Most of them will survive in such a damaged state that despite their best efforts and hopes, they will continue the cycle they grew up hating. I think if we're lucky, Simon might give us one ray of hope in all of this, but I think it's going to be fairly dark otherwise, because the only other way out is to actually topple the System itself, and in Simon's Baltimore, that's just not possible -- let alone feasible in eight remaining episodes.

The implicit Marxist message isn't foreign to me. After all, I did teach in Baltimore City. And I left. It's something that still causes me a lot of guilt: the feeling that I abandoned children who really needed me. But when I feel guilty, I remind myself of what the System was like and of the problems that prevented me from being able to affect real change. This is not to say I think what I did didn't make a difference. I believe it made a big difference; but it came at a heavy cost to me, because for all of what I could do, there was a ton that I couldn't do. And while the kids do appreciate what you do for them, they also often see the few adults who do care as idealized figures who can rescue them. And, of course, we're just average people doing the best we can, and we can't save them. They can't all come home with us; we can't address their home lives; we can't arrange for therapy for the abuse they have, and in many cases continue to, endure. We can listen to them while they are in class; take their writing seriously; show them compassion when we can. But the fact remains that the kids often want more, and they deserve more, but we can't deliver it. And I can tell you first hand that it absolutely sucks to feel like you have failed a child who just wants help. It sucks to feel completely powerless to witness situations that are appalling and wrong and yet all part of the average day. So I left. It was that or to learn how to make myself immune to the daily realities -"to feel nothin'," as we hear Bubs say as he leaves his meeting in frustration and shame.

And so I think that's where this last act of The Wire is taking us. It's taking us to a dark place where we realize that the good guys aren't going to win. And not only will the good guys lose, they will make mistakes or concessions of epic proportions because they've been driven past their breaking points. Last night was the first time that I realized that Simon's work is less Dickensian than it is ancient tragedy. (And then I remembered that Simon actually said that was part of his project in The New Yorker profile. There's definitely no mistaking it thus far this season.) The story takes place in a world where fate cannot be outfoxed, and we are left to simply see how everyone will end up dead on the stage. But make no mistake, most everyone will be dead. Because that's what the System does; it sucks your will to live; your will to believe; your will to hope.

And isn't that what we're starting to see now with a heavier hand than in any other season? Last night's episode gives us characters who are breaking under the weight of the System. Deedee begins the episode saying, "Whatever it is you tell yourself you won't do to get high -- you're pretty much making a list of what you will do." It's sort of like Oedipus remarking that the last thing he's going to do is kill his father and sleep with his mother; it's already fixed on his agenda. That's true for all these characters. The longer they stay within the System, the more likely it is they will fall in ways that are both gut-wrenching and spectacular. The only hope is to get out of the System, and for most people, that's not an available option; that takes privilege, something most of these characters either don't have or have temporarily forsaken. The longer they stay within the System trying to circumvent it, the greater the odds that they will be eaten alive. The tentacles of power are strong and reach through institutions, across party lines, into various sectors of power. They are all part and parcel of a larger machine that no longer needs or values the individual, or Simon seems to argue. And of course, this makes sense. Simon and Burns are both men who ultimately left the System. Their penance for the guilt they feel, is a series like this one.

Last night we saw different characters breaking under the weight of the System, characters that we now understand are all at risk. The system is intractable -- look at Avon and Serge. These are people who understand how the System works. These are the people who will survive, and if they don't, they won't die afraid or surprised but rather with knowledge that it could've been no other way. "The game's the game." It doesn't change, regardless of new players. Marlo tells Avon this as a sign of his understanding. I think Avon does know this; but I remain unconvinced that Marlo actually understands the game in the truest sense. I think his pride at thinking he can deal with the Greeks may be where he learns about the game for real.

And on that note, I'll get into some specifics now about the episode -- things that struck me and that I am interested to get your read on. I'm curious to see what Simon will do with Freaman. In many ways, he's the best police we've got. He understands the System. He's stayed in, but he's been underground most of that time. Unlike Jimmy, he knows how to shut himself off, or has up until now, and unlike Bunk or Kima, he cares more than his paycheck mandates. But he doesn't dream big like McNulty, so Simon may let him off the hook. Freaman may while out the rest of his days in the same way we've seen him -- sneaking the good fight when he can, making minatures the rest of the time.

As I've already alluded to, I think Marlo is in for some schoolin' himself this season. The fact remains that most people who stay in the street don't live, so unless we see Marlo get locked up (a la the real-life Deacon, Melvin Williams) or get out of the game, I don't know how much longer Marlo has on his ticket. He's incredibly arrogant and I think shows a blatant disregard for the established code. I think we saw a questioning in Chris's face when Marlo suggested going after Omar. Sure, the preview for next week tells us that Chris goes after Butchie in an effort to bring Omar out of retirement, but that doesn't mean that it's going to sit well with Chris in the end. The fact that Chris has a soft spot for Michael tells us that there's more to him than Marlo or Snoop, both of whom either are are antisocial or have conditioned themselves to be so. (Recall that Marlo only sees Michael as a valuable to his crew, and Snoop seems to still question Michael's value, period.) And, as I've already said, Marlo is in way over his head getting in with The Greek. I don't think any of us have forgotten the end that Frank met...

We know what's going to happen with the newspaper plot, since Simon can't stop talking about it, which is sort of annoying. It would be nice if Templeton's turn as Jason Blair came as a surprise, but instead I find myself waiting for it, and last night's handling wasn't particularly deft. I would've liked a scene with Templeton on the street when he's trying to get the O's story. Is he any good as a reporter? We need to know more about him. I must say, in starting to rewatch seasons 2 and 4, it's my opinion that we got a lot more nuances about who the new subplot characters were than we seem to be getting here. I also think that Simon's characterization of Whiting comes across as dumb, and I think that's problematic. He might be unlikeable, selfish, arrogant, without morals, but I doubt he'd be dumb. I like Gus okay, but we need a bit more. I think he's not being enough of an asshole himself, which someone like him would certainly be. He's likely to be very self-righteous as he sees himself as the real reporter in a room a wannabes (not all, obviously). But the point is that he is likely a large part of his own problem, perhaps if only through years of butting his head against a wall in frustration.

I will end with two scenes. The first Jay already mentioned, and that's the juxtaposition of the Bubs and Freaman scenes, where both watch examples of child mistreatment. Freaman's ability to remain uninvolved in that scene is in stark contrast to Bubs, who seems unable to finish his meal. This to me, is very much at the heart of Simon's project. These are the choices people are left with. To survive, you just can't care about it all. You can't allow yourself to be too attached to any of it. I like that Simon has Freaman on the stakeout in this scene, because while Freaman knows he cannot affect change in the situation with the child, we see him making his own misstep of caring too much by being on a stakeout when the case is over.

And, it is Freaman's caring too much, going on the stakeout, and telling McNulty what he's seen that brings me to the final scene for discussion: McNulty's corruption of the crime scene to make a homeless man's death look like a homicide. McNulty's breakdown is really cemented earlier in the episode when he kicks the broken squad car in frustration. We know then that McNulty never should've returned to homicide. I think McNulty's descent appears unbelievable because we've missed the year where this has been slowly coming on, and now we're left with an abrupt about face. Relapse rarely happens quite that quickly for someone who had been doing as well as McNulty, though a year is certainly believable. I think given McNulty's prior behavior of soliciting prostitutes and the like all as a means to an end for the job, I guess manipulating a crime scene isn't wholly unbelievable. I don't know. But I agree, Nevin, I am still feeling like it pushes the boundaries of credibility a bit, but I think the way scene happens is great. Bunk says, "Get a fuckin' grip." Followed by, "Have you lost your fuckin' mind?" McNulty never responds, he just quietly goes about his business, and all Bunk can do is watch. It is only when McNulty is convinced he has tricked the fates and is going to get the last laugh that he decrees, "There's a serial killer in Baltimore. He preys on the weakest among us. He needs to be caught." Of course, Bunk walks out, completely horrified, and McNulty continues readying the crime scene. The scene tells us two things: McNulty is no longer a viable candidate for any kind of emergent hero -- he will be, at best, a tragic hero, and it's a pretty low crown he'll wear at that. The other thing I love about this scene is the way McNulty's line makes the point that I tried to make above using a lot more words. The serial killer is the System, and it preys on the weakest among us. Case in point, McNulty. Those who actually care. He does need to be caught, but I think we all know, he won't. Not much of a welcome for the so-called prodigal son...