The Scholarly Wire Realized

Dark Matter 101, an online journal of cultural criticism based in Britain, has released a special Issue about The Wire.

Here is a taste from Ash Sharma's introductory article:

Although racism is endemic to neoliberal governmentality, The Wire recognises that anti-racism is hegemonic now. This is no mere superstructural or ideological rhetoric, but present, if unevenly, in the discourses and practices of institutions and society more generally. If in the analysis of race we examine the representations of the black characters in the series we get very quickly get caught in an undecidable bind: arguably the series shows a diverse and complex range of African-American characters, yet the depictions are reducible racial stereotypes (positive or negative). The limitations with an analysis of the politics of representation is that it remains confined to a struggle over media representation. In this approach, television series are analysed as texts that are politically interpreted in isolation of the matrix of social affect, information and desire. ‘Realism’ and ‘authenticity’ become the only sites for debates over racial meaning and power. The affective dimension of race in the circuits of knowledge and information across the series and audiences; for instance, in the grain of the voices of the Baltimore accents or in the coded communication of the street corners, need analysis.

Ash's work is some pretty heavy lifting for those not versed in cultural studies and the jargon of that tribe, but it's well worth the effort. I appreciated his attempts to move beyond a duality where The Wire is either a racist appropriation of urban black life featuring modern minstrelsy or it's an authentic view of West Baltimore life, told to a part of America that never sets foot there. Instead, as Ash argues, race is located "within the structures of the series" to "understand the racial logics of neoliberalism and contemporary institutions of power and control." His essay and others in the journal constantly ask (after Sudhir Venkatesh's Freakonomics interviews with 'Real Thugs'): "If the gangs were white, what would be different about the show?"

I definitely invite you to check the other articles (one on Bubbbles and intertextual space), post some comments here and there, and keep the conversation going.

What's in a Name?

One of those ****Spoiler alert**** entries.





I'm currently reading Barack Obama's first book, Dreams From My Father (I must say, it's way, way better than The Audacity of Hope which was halfway decent) and a passage struck me.

Much of the book is about Obama's struggles at defining himself, and indeed African American males defining themselves against the duality of being Black in America. Of course Obama had a slightly different experience considering his literally Black African-White American heritage. This particular section comes during his first visit to Kenya, while waiting in the airport to see his family after his father has passed away. Permit me to reproduce the passage in its entirety:

I Completed the form and Miss Omoro gave it the once-over before looking back at me. "You wouldn't be related to Dr. Obama by any chance?" she asked. "Well, yes- he was my father." Miss Omoro smiled sympathetically. "I'm very sorry about his passing. Your father was a close friend of my family's. He would often come to our house when I was a child." We began to talk about my visit... I found myself trying to prolong the conversation, encouraged less by Miss Omoro's beauty- she had mentioned a fiance- than by the fact that she'd recognized my name. That had never happened before, I realized; not in Hawaii, not in Indonesia, not in L.A. or New York or Chicago. For the first time in my life, I felt the comfort, the firmness of identity that a name might provide, how it could carry an entire history in other people's memories, so that they might nod and say knowingly, "Oh, you are so and so's son." No one in Kenya would ask how to spell my name, or mangle it with an unfamiliar tongue. My name belonged and so I belonged, drawn into a web of relationships, alliances, and grudges that I did not yet understand.

While this passage concerns The Wire very little, it made me think about the struggles of each character, defining themselves against their names and legacies. Let's look at a few of the characters/families as examples.

Of course there is Avon Barksdale. The Barksdale name signified power and prestige that came with the family's business. What else could Avon do but run one of Baltimore's largest drug organizations. Avon defined himself by carrying on what his name signified for his community.

Then there is Namond Brice, the son of Wee-Bey Brice, a Barksdale hit man. Namond tried to define himself with the name Wee-Bey had created on the streets. He worked for Barksdale's organization, then tried to run his own crew, but his heart was never with the corner. No matter how much he tried, and how much his mother yelled at him, Namond was not one a corner boys. He had to define himself despite his father's name in order to achieve success after being adopted by a former police commander.

Then there is the man without a name, Marlo Stanfield. Marlo runs a drug organization that rises meteorically due to its cold calculating approach.  Marlo even eclipses Barksdale by the end of season 3. Where Avon is interested in continuing the family business and Stringer is interested in profit and business, Marlo wants power and reputation. By gaining these, he will make his name in the community.

Nothing makes this priority more clear than when Omar attack's Stanfield's reputation on the street.  When word of this gets back to Marlo, we see his most passionate outburst of anger in the show.

MY NAME IS MY NAME!

At the end of season five, the police have enough evidence to convict his organization but some of it is illegally collected. As a result, Stanfield walks free and gets introduced to the very businessmen that Stringer wanted so much to be himself. Yet, this sort of reputation is not what drives Marlo who slips away from a cocktail party to attack two men on a corner. Though his adversaries are armed with a gun and a knife, Stanfield takes the corner. Stanfield is cut severely but he's happy that "his name" and reputation have lived on to echo in the streets.

Other characters and situations reflect this name/legacy/identity theme. "Cheese" Wagstaff (played by Method Man), Prop Joe's right hand man, is the absent father of Randy Wagstaff from Season Four. Both are very interested in business, but the family connection is mostly missing. Name and family dominates season two as well. Ziggy Sebotka never fills the role his father Frank wanted for him as head of the stevedores union. The Greek's are most concerned with keeping their name quiet.

Many of these situations demonstrate the human dilemma inherent in finding identity that go beyond Barack Obama's specific difficulty with race and culture. Marlo's singular drive to make a reputation based on power is not confined to west Baltimore. Avon's attempt to perpetuate the family business mirror Frank Sebotka's. Yet Obama points out the particular difficulty of finding identity for young African American males. A teacher he meets in Chicago says:

At least the girls have older women to talk to, the example of motherhood. But the boys have nothing. Half of them don't even know their fathers. There's nobody to guide them through the process of becoming a man... to explain to them the meaning of manhood. And that's a recipe for disaster.

Though Barack's actual difficulties didn't provide inspiration to Simon, these issues live in places that many of HBO's viewers don't. Simon shows how he has a finger on the pulse of American urban life by bringing this theme to the fore.

At the very least, this could be one more reason why Barack Obama's favorite TV show is The Wire.

Season 1 Episode 1 - The Target

Scene opens with a pan up a trail of blood and flashing lights to a dead body.

This is the opening of what some have called the greatest drama of this decade, or the greatest television show ever, or the angriest show on television, or... you get the point. A lot of people who watched it, think it's pretty darn good.

The opening scene sets the up a show that definitely breaks the mold of "cop show." We get the story of snotboogie, a citizen of Baltimore who has a greed for money which ultimately kills him. It's a tragic tale which elicits more questions than answers for McNulty, the assigned homocide detective. How'd he get the name snot? Who killed him? Why'd they even let him play the weekend dice game, when he snatched pot every time it got big. Those assembled would customarily beat him up except this time. McNulty does find out why they let him play: "You got to. This is America."

The opening story sets up some of the show's ultimate themes, like the brutality of the city, "games," and the false opportunity of America's myths. These might be a bit pretentious for a cop show- but remember "It's not TV. It's HBO." The opening also provides a compelling (true) story about human life, and one which likely never made it into the paper. If Simon is a journalist, then this is the human interest story on A1 of the West Baltimore Sun. And the story is one of the many true tales which Simon and Ed Burns introduce from their experiences in the institutions of Baltimore.

The opening also never features into the overall narrative. At all. In TV world, the pilot (which this basically is) must provide all of the necessary backstory, introduce the main characters, and make an argument for filming episodes 2-13. Apparently snotboogie's story didn't help this because HBO initially declined to pick up The Wire. It later would authorize the show after Simon's begging letter convinced them.

"...when it's not your turn"

After the credits (also worth discussion on another day), we find ourselves in the courtroom. In the case of D'Angelo Barksdale, the jury found the defendant innocent even though he was guilty as sin. This was another example of witness intimidation by the Barksdale crew. But the interaction between String and McNulty shows that, no hard feelings, this is just business.

Back to an unidentified block and Kima, Herc, and Carver introduce themselves. Kima is cool, calm, and all business. Herc and Carver play the role of beat'em down, take no prisoners, "the Western District way" cops. This is a successful narcotics bust- reminiscent of typical cops shows, but fairly small time stuff.

Back to the Barksdale court room for the jury's decision- innocent. Then onto the Judge's chambers where McNulty begins discussing Barksdale, the real Barksdale, Avon. This is one place where the opening quote, "...when it ain't your turn" applies. McNulty could play dumb and not stir up trouble with Judge Phalen, but instead he tells him about Barksdale's power and success in the towers. If this were a Greek Tragedy, it would be that one act by the protagonist which leads the gods to strike him down in Act III. Later in the episode, we get another example of a small act with long term consequences. When McNulty tells Sargent Jay Landsman where he doesn't want to go, the boat, it surprises no one that McNulty eventually ends up here.

I particularly like some of the exchanges, including:

McNulty: Think about clearing the court?
Phalen: On what basis? It's an open court, a free nation of laws.
McNulty: I thought it was Baltimore.

This sets up a theme that Baltimore is not the same as "America," at least as America considers itself (which I've written on).

Later, the Bunk decides to answer his phone (even though it wasn't his turn) after hearing a body was found indoors- unfortunately it turns out to be a vacant. This little turn is an example of the realism that Simon tries to bring to the show. According to the DVD commentary, every detective in the country knows why Bunk prays for the indoor body because he has a much greater possibility of solving the case.

Up to this point the show has introduced four different cases in rapid fire, none of which have much importance (the Gant case being the exception). In the world of network procedurals, this would be a big no-no. But it soon becomes The Wire's bread and butter.



The episodes also introduces my blog's namesake, Bubbles. He's a happy
go lucky dope fiend with the skills to successfully hustle his daily
fix, but he's also a teacher. He's trying to "school" his new white
friend name Johnny. When Johnny fails at the fake money scam and gets
beaten within an inch of his life- Bubbles decides he will turn on the
Barksdale crew. This is another example of how "all the pieces matter."
A theme which will be discussed more in later episodes.

One other theme, that would achieve larger significance is how institutions function. AKA "shit rolls downhill." The narcotics crew makes note of this, but you don't get it in full until McNulty and Dee get reamed out by their respective bosses. Both McNulty and Dee get "punished" for their errors in judgement. we also learn about "chain of command" from Major Rawls, Burrell, and Lieutenant Daniels.

The episode closes with what will become a well known feature- Bunk and McNulty's drunken bullshit sessions by the railroad tracks. Bunk tells another true story, this one about Bunk shooting a mouse with his service nine. More importantly, McNulty almost gets run over by a train. A symbol that I have also discussed on numerous examples. This is an instance when the symbol, representing the institutions of Baltimore, comes closest to rolling over McNulty in reality. But in a symbolic sense, the episode shows how Baltimore's cop shop is slowly massing against him.

----

In plot and theme, the show is a far cry from "the cop show," even at this early episode. But in the show's look and feel as well, it's a very different world. This episode, directed by Clark Johnson, used a very gritty and real style, favoring hand-held shots, wide angles, and footage from natural sources (like security camaras). As many have said, it's a world where we all are increasingly being listened to and watched. But in the show's music it also treads some fresh ground for TV. All music must come from natural sources- car stereos, boom boxes, etc. This is very different from network procedurals which use music to lead the viewer by indicating suspense, resolution, and conflict.

The show is different in its characterization as well. Simon introduced a whole trove of actors in the first show, most of whom will make further appearances. This includes- McNulty, Bunk, Landsman, D'Angelo, Avon, Orlando, Stringer, Wee Bey, Stinkum, Savino, Phalen, Bubbles, Johnny, Kima, Herc, Carver, Daniels, Freamon, Burrell, Poo, Bodie, Wallace, Coles, and about 20 more in addition. The only characters who seems to have a main role in bridging between the different worlds at this time is McNulty and Bubbles. The procedurals feature a small cast of notable detectives and a revolving list of crooks who float in and then float out after the police catch them and solve the cases.

----

To sum up, the first episode introduces some very big themes that later episodes and seasons will address. More importantly it introduces a style outside of the traditional cop show in plot, characters, visually, and even in sound. The Wire staked new ground on television with this episode and broke many conventions. But the show had greater aspirations than to be "not your average cop show" or "better than Homocide." These came out in later episodes which I'll keep discussing tomorrow.

Westerns

Ok. Anyone who has read my blog previously knows that I'm big on comparing the Wire to Western "classics" and other aspects of this genre. I guess it makes sense that I'll continue doing so in an episode by episode format.

One aspect of The Wire which I enjoy immensely, and I think this is something I appreciate in all creative outputs, is messing with genre conventions. Casting Brad Pitt in a role where no one can understand a word he says (Snatch). Brilliant.When Salvador Dali creates the perfect replica of the Venus De Milo, but as a dresser- I dig that. When Ray Charles played all the biggest hits of Country and Western music- as straight country as Hank Williams ever did, but coming from Ray... Yeah!

I think David Simon digs this streak of individuality as well. In the commentary to the first episode, and in a letter he wrote to HBO begging to give The Wire a chance, Simon sees the show as going beyond "the cop show." This genre was the networks' bread and butter, but TW was HBO's chance to stick it to the big boys. If Simon and his team could create a better show than CSI or Law and Order- well, then "it's not TV. It's HBO."

However, Simon did this by going so far outside of the cop show genre that he was not so much playing against this genre as creating his own by the fifth season.

But genre does mean something. In certain ways we could substitute the word genre for "commodification." If genre is a set of conventions that a creative work reflects or organizes itself around- then genre often translates into how a work of art is consumed. Think of movies (I like comedies, I hate horror) or music (Jazz sucks! Soul rules!). Stores sell art in these packages so people know a little about what they're buying into. Artists often use genre because it's sometimes easier to create a Sonnet than throw a bunch of words together.

Of course The Wire is organized vaguely around season long investigations into drugs, politics, schools, the docks, and the media. But it rejects many of the genre conventions. They "renounced the theme of good and evil," which is the heart of a cop show, because it bored them. In fact, people didn't really live or die based on their good or evil- just how they interacted with institutions. Commercial success is not Simon's primary goal (though I imagine he's doing just fine).

But Simon did play off many other genres- The Western being my favorite to discuss and one of the most prominent (um, also the Greek Tragedy I guess). The Western is such an interesting choice because it represents the two competing myths from my last post. Namely that if you're smart, do it better, work hard, and sacrifice, you can "win." If you don't there's still a place for you. The West symbolized this world of opportunity, individuality, ruggedness, and promise of the "pursuit of happiness." According to Frederick Jackson Turner, it was the frontier- this moving line of settlement- that brought about America's unique democracy without resulting to class or ethnic wars like those of Europe. (It turns out that Turner wasn't quite right about the lack of class/ethnic conflict in the West or really the whole frontier bit, but that's for a blog on another genre, History).

So by making West Baltimore into the new Monument Valley (where John Ford filmed most of his Westerns), Simon creates an anti-Western. By making the good bandit into a short, homosexual, African American- Omar- we get an anti-Western hero. By turning the inner city into a world where the law exists only tangentially, where men carry guns and the will to use them, where you need your wits to survive- well, it ain't Dodge City, but you see where I'm going here. Of course, the whole thing is not one big Western- as much as I seem to think it is. So as I review the episodes, the theme will wax and wane, and how Simon uses it- either the "anti-western" or homage to the Western. I will discuss certain facets of this theme in greater depth:

Trains: I've mentioned this here, but Trains are particularly important to Westerns. The Wire likes (hates) Trains. Trains are also important to industrialization. The Wire loves industrialization (hates de-industrialization).

"Law and Order"- ok, obviously this is more in the cop show genre, but I think Westerns use it a little differently. Because in the West- law and order are just a bit more ambiguous. Not unlike Bill Rawls sexuality.

Guns- specifically how people talk about guns, fetishize guns, etc. My "six shooter" has become my "nine."

The Establishment vs. "the real people"- in Westerns people hated all of those back east. In the Wire, people hate those in DC or NY (or, in an ironic switch, the "county".

Nostalgia- in the West, everyone is always resisting the coming of civilization. It always "used to be better." Civilization could be represented by trains, towns, or people in suits. In the Wire, civilization could be represented by Johns Hopkins, condos, or people in suits.

Characterization- Omar is one such western characterization, Brother Mouzone is another one (the outlaw who is a member of the Nation of Islam and reads Harpers, right). Is Marlo The Wire's railroad baron?

Ok- that's good enough for now. We'll see how it actually plays out and get a read on which seasons featured more or fewer homages to the western.

It's all in the game

"The Game still the game"-Marlo

This is one of my favorite quotes and what I say to people whenever they ask how things are going (they usually look at me funny).

"Game" is a theme that certainly plays a role in the whole show. From the dice game to the many times "game" is used to describe a situation with consequences bigger than winning and losing.

I think "game" gets at the heart of Simon's critique of American capitalism. On the one hand, there is a myth that if you're smart, work hard, get an education, do the right stuff- you will make it. You will win "the game." On the other hand, if you don't quite have it- there's still a place for you in this world. The idea is articulated by Simon directly in his introduction to Rafael Alvarez's _The Wire: Truth Be Told_.(1) These most American myths of opportunity and equality, liberty and the pursuit of happiness are based on the "winning" (or getting the participation award) of American life. These myths assume that the field is level. The Wire tells us "the game is rigged."

Of course, American cities (or America itself) don't have a patent on this myth, but according to Simon, at their best they represent "the ultimate aspiration for the American community... from rugged individualism to the melting pot." (2) So we will see how the concept of "game" gets played out over the course of five seasons.




(1)Rafael Alvarez, _The Wire: Truth Be Told_ (New York: Pocket Books, 2004), 5-6.
(2)Alvarez, _The Wire_, 4.

Religion

Religion is a theme I hope to address somewhat over the next sixty days (starting June 1). I don't really know what I'll come up with, but I think Simon uses religion in an interesting fashion.

Traditionally, the African American church has always held an important place in uplifting the poor of black society (this is not race specific, of course). Between Martin Luther King, Jr., Ralph Abernathy, Malcolm X, and Black Liberation Theology of the twentieth century; even further back to Nat Turner (used syncretic African religion to help start a slave uprising) and using religious imagery to resist slavery (the story of Moses leading people to the promise land became code for escape to the North, along with many other examples), the Black church has been an agent of radical change at times (and a bastion of conservatism at other times). The church is also an institution whereby a general good is done for the community, rather than the evil of other institutions (police, drugs, politics).

This does not fit into the story Simon wants to tell- of post-industrial institutions laying waste to Urban America and its underclass. Or "how we live together in cities." But instead of neglecting the church completely, Simon writes it in, but mostly as a secularized institution. The church is where NA meetings occur, it tries to give Cutty a job, candidates attend it for political reasons, but it almost never shows up as a religious institution- barring a few lines from the deacon to Cutty.

I think this is quite different, and so as we go through the sixty episodes, I'll try to flesh out the role of the church in Baltimore. I don't know if ultimately I'm being critical of Simon's portrayal, but I do think its one of the areas he takes more liberty as a "journalist" telling a story about the inner city.

Baltimore is a Country, revisited.

A couple weeks ago I wrote about the differences between Stringer and Avon, and their respective philosophies- innovate the drug business and rise out of the ghetto vs. run the drug business with maximum respect. After writing the post, I felt that I oversimplified some of the arguments/intellectual strains. So forgive me for that.

This week I want to revisit the fifth season. Many have critiqued it, and the newsroom action more specifically, as the weakest season because the characters were flat, the plot too farfetched, and the action too compressed. But I continue to defend it. No, it's not my favorite season (Probably 4, maybe 3 or 1, I'll let you know after I rewatch them), but some of the themes Simon has explored really come together in 5.

Basically, Simon brashly critiques a lack of citizenship in the Baltimore inner city. Here, I define citizenship as the ability to vote and have representation in city, state, and national government, but also to have a voice and representation in the media. While the media is not directly connected to the behavior of citizenship, I'm pretty sure the journalism majors out there will support me in saying it's an essential pillar of informed republican citizenship (there's something about freedom of the press in the Constitution, I think).

In season 5, the irresponsibility of the press and of local government come to the forefront. In one corner, the media is completely oblivious to America's "invisible citizens". I'm not talking about the homeless either. I'm talking about the murder of Omar Little, a incredible character that Wire fans (universally) love. I'm talking about the murder of Proposition Joe, after being given up by his sister's only son. I'm talking about Baltimore's mayor rejecting millions of dollars that would save an education financial crisis, because it would diminish his chances of winning a gubernatorial election. And, oh yeah, the mayor is telling the police department to juke the stats in return for political gain. The media writes about none of it. But we do get a fake serial killer (which the administration buries), the homeless, and an article on a former drug dealer earning development money in return for political contributions.

Ok, step back. I'm not suggesting that all media needs to uncover every murder or write omnisciently about an industry which takes great pains to stay mostly invisible. I'll also agree that the journalists include some of Simon's weakest characters, a plot that is less realistic, and a subplot which exists for psuedo-revenge's sake. But these criticisms are not what the show is attempting to do. I'll agree that it's less exciting to have the actual story be "in the silences" of the main story, yet, there is a story here, and a group of people (I guess we'll call them the underclass) whose vote doesn't count and whose story does not get written about (see season 4).

Besides not having a voice in the media, the people don't have a voice in government. Mayor Carcetti has heard some of the citizens' complaints and initially does a great job of fixing them. But as his term continues, a budget crisis (brought on by his political hubris) cuts into services for the inner city. Schools limp on, barely missing teacher lay offs, but certainly without enough money to fund special programs (see season 4). Carcetti no longer acts in Baltimore's best interests, but in his own interests. Instead of the media calling him on it (free press' function in a democracy...), Carcetti gets elected on a fake homeless issue.

So I defend the fifth season's message, but not its substance. But really, the season was not as bad as many said, and I'm pretty sure that many of the journalists ("where's the internet in the newsroom?" "that's not how a story gets confirmed by the army") miss the main points in nitpicking. And I actually think the visual aspect of it was some of the strongest of the five seasons. Some of the montages were a bit indulgent, but also some really great shots. In sum, quit beating up on that season!

Authenticity in the Wire: A Parallel with Westerns?

David Simon went to great length's to make The Wire's Baltimore of as true to life as he could. His team did extensive research, drawing from years of experience in the very institutions they depicted (from Ed Burns' time in homicide and public schools to Simon's newspaper days to Bill Zorzi's political insight). This push to achieve authenticity had many goals. For one, we can look at The Wire as journalism (of the type which tells stories the 'real' newspaper world misses in the fifth season). We can also see The Wire as a type of ethnography, much like Simon's books, The Corner (or the miniseries) or Homicide: A Year on the Killing Streets.

But if the use of authenticity was to promote these aims, well, Simon's work for the Sun (like his piece on Melvin Williams) does better as real journalism, and the books work better as ethnography. The Wire uses its authenticity for another reason. Only through exhaustive attention to presenting an 'authentic' Baltimore does Simon derive authority for the themes he presents. Only by rendering the computer technology of wiretaps in the most accurate details does Simon have the authority to criticize the Police Department.

But authenticity works two ways. To arrive at authenticity, both the objective history (which is always up to interpretation), and how the consumer shapes that reality with their pre-conceived notions come into play. What popular culture 'knows' of Baltimore (crabs, inner harbor), contrasts with the 'reality' Simon creates.

Westerns also derived their thematic authority from authenticity. With the release of The Great Train Robbery in 1908, the Western film genre was born. In fact, the movie came only three years after the event on which it was based.(1) In the thousands of Westerns since, urban viewers have fantasized about the mythical West and the romance, independence, freedom, violence, and opportunity it represented. As Richard Slotkin writes in Gunfighter Nation: The Myth of the Frontier in Twentieth-Century America,

Cultural Tradition defined "the West" as both an actual place with a real history and as a mythic space populated by projective fantasies. Expectations about Western stories were therefore contradictory: they had to seem in some way realistic or "authentic" while at the same time conforming to ideas of setting, costume, and heroic behavior derived from literary fantasy. (2)

By using "real" Indians (often white actors in "red face"), "real" clothing (often very inaccurate historical clothing), and "real" settings (spaghetti westerns?), Westerns evoked the West of opportunity. I kid about the poor attempts, but Westerns really did go to great lengths for authenticity's sake.

In the same way, The Wire creates images of Baltimore which represent a reality, but also literary constructions. The idealized, bling of popular culture drug dealers does exist to a degree in The Wire, but Simon molds it to his own designs. Namond uses the "fashion" of drug dealing and bling (compensating for his not so dealer sensibilities), but a real player like Barksdale downplays it so as not to draw attention to himself. The cop world has its own stock characters, The Irish Cop (McNulty), the quiet but brilliant investigator(Freamon), the straight shooter boss(Daniels), but Simon adds to it, the closeted (maybe) department politics warrior (Rawls), the ultimate middle manager (Landsman), the man with the code (Bunk). It is reality behind the images which lend them power.

It can be argued that authenticity is an important part of any dramatic situation. But few genre's focus on authenticity like the Western (and the Wire). While The Wire's cop show genre cousins, CSI and Law and Order, try to portray reality, they put a bare minimum of effort into it. Most cop shows also put little effort into authenticity outside of maybe costuming and weapons. In many other television genres, authenticity plays a minor role. The type of toaster used in a suburban situational comedy does not matter. Some other HBO shows have also been praised for their authenticity, namely, The Sopranos. While it may indeed be a good look at mob life in New Jersey, other accounts disagree. However, the Wire and Westerns both go to lengths to create a reality based on a real place and myth. The old story is that when a group of Indian actors performed a stunt chase particularly well, the director congratulated them on such an authentic chase. Their response: "we tried to do it realistically, just like in the movies!"


What connects the uses of authenticity is a desire to show a life unlike the viewer's own. More importantly, authenticity supports the themes of the Western or The Wire. By showing the promise of the frontier (and by extension, America) in all its historical accuracy, urban viewers could imagine themselves personally, and America as a nation, progressing to greatness and wealth. In the Wire, the use of authenticity reinforces the failures of American democracy/institutions and by extension, America itself.








(1) Richard Slotkin, Gunfighter Nation: The Myth of the Frontier in Twentieth-Century America, (Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1998), 231.
(2) Slotkin, Gunfighter Nation, 234.

Realism vs. High Greek Tragedy

Ok, I was going to just respond to Adam's comment in the comments section of the last post, but my comment was about Post-Length, so I figured I would throw it up here.

Adam's Question: The Wire is lauded for its attention to detail and how close to real life it gets (see the "Real Thugs" posts on the freakonomics blog). However, David Simon is always talking about its grounding in Greek Tragedy. Which one do I see Simon using most?

I think Simon does both and succeeds. He uses the idea of the Greek tragedy not so much for The Wire's style (which is obviously gritty, realistic, West Baltimore), but for logic and the force which drives the storyline.

In Greek tragedies (brief crappy primer on Greek drama follows), a very specific moral sensibility played out in which a character's fate is often determined by the cruel and capricious Greek God's (in The Wire, the God's are the post-industrial city's institutions, like the copshop, Sun, schools, drug industry, etc.). It was often a character's hubris and one fateful act (which they usually didn't recognize at the time) which sent them down a path to destruction.
For example, Frank Sebotka puts the window up in the Polish church which eventually causes him to lose his union, his family, and even be killed (see season 2 storyline).
Another quick reference which shows my point- O-MAR and MAR-lo are both fairly common names in West Baltimore and "realistic", but they are also referencing the Roman God of War (Mars). Pretty appropriate considering that their characters survive on their reputation for war/battle. Another little tidbit involving Omar in Season 2, while waiting to testify against Bird (one of my favorite scenes of the show), Omar has this response with a security guard doing a crossword puzzle:

Guard: Mars is the god of war, right?
Omar: Planet too.
Guard: I know it's a planet, but the clue is "Greek God of War"
Omar: Aries. Greeks called him Aries. Same dude, different name is all.
Guard: Aries fits. Thanks.
Omar: It's all good. See, back in middle school I used to love them myths. Stuff was deep. Truly.

Ok, maybe that's not the most realistic conversation ever. But great nonetheless. For that bit and the rest of the courtroom scene via youtube: