This Ain’t Aruba, Bitch

I generally resist the urge to talk about “The Wire” online, mainly because I’m liable to turn into a squealing fanboy in an instant, even with confronted with facets of the show that obviously beg criticism (such as its treatment of women).  And what kind of internet demagogue would I be without my cheap veneer of above-it-all pseudo-intellectualism?  Plus, those offensively cheesy Slate dialogues are enough to turn anyone off writing about this show.  But we’re in the run-up to the final episode, so here goes nothing (Note: we’re going to talk about Season 5, here, so be warned). 

 

 

“The Wire” often finds praise for its “realism,” and while this season’s fake-serial-killer plot is certainly of dubious credibility, “The Wire” is still “realistic” in a way that shows like “24″ or “The Shield,” which confuse grittiness, a shallow brand of cynicism, and confusingly edited action scenes for holding a mirror to society can only point at.  I’m not blowing any minds when I say that “the real” is a slippery concept in 2008, especially in the post-”Who Wants to Marry a Millionaire,” war-as-infographic world of American television, but to be even slightly convincing you need something like “The Wire”:  humor and sympathy for the individual tempering a deep mistrust of any social institution, be it drug trade hierarchy or the American government.

This point has been made before, and better, though.  I bring it up as background for discussion of the most interesting “what will happen” argument running around out there on the wide internet right now, an argument start by Dominic West himself (Jimmy McNulty).  Vague spoiler here:

 

“but what you find at the end of “The Wire,” and I think in life, is that all these characters that you’ve come to know and are fading away are replaced by a younger generation. So you see exactly who’s going to become the new McNulty and the new Omar.”

 

Now, most people are expecting (probably correctly) that Michael will end the series as the new Omar. (And that Dukie will likely become the new Bubbles).*  What exactly this means is a matter of greater controversy.  Some seem pretty annoyed that a show beloved for its realism and its depth of character would pull something so obviously constructed as a 1:1 correspondence with characters who are really quite different.

This kind of ending though, would be a perfect way to cap the show’s critique of the systemic fucked-upness of Baltimore.  The “game” (of drugs, of politics, of patriarchy) doesn’t care that you are an individual with individual hopes, goals, and clothing style.  It cares only that you play along in the interest of self-preservation.  If you are gentle and intuitive like Dukie or Bubbles, there is no place for you except at the bottom of the hierarchy.  If you are strong and tactical like Michael and Omar, but are not willing to abandon even the most simple morality, there is no place for you except as a lone wolf, since you will always be a threat.  If you are smart but unaccommodating like McNulty, you’ll always be a frustrated middle-manager.  In short, if you are unwilling to ignore injustice, you will be forced into an outcast role.

 

But–and here is the most cynical bit of all–you’re still stuck playing a role. 

 

 

 

*In a fanboy aside, it’s more difficult to tell who might become the new McNulty.  My money is on either Sydnor, since he’s young and principled but not yet a pain-in-the-ass, or Carver, since it would bring his character all the way around from Season 1.