The Wire Season Finale

Season Four of The Wire comes to a close. I think Craig's take on the strengths and weaknesses of the show's examination of the Baltimore school system and contemporary education policy is exactly right and better than I could have written. Many thanks to Craig for his insightful analysis and commentary.

As to the finale and season as a whole, it's worth stepping back for a moment to consider what David Simon, the show's creator, has called the overriding theme of The Wire's entire multi-season run:

Thematically, it's about the very simple idea that, in this Postmodern world of ours, human beings—all of us—are worth less. We're worth less every day, despite the fact that some of us are achieving more and more. It's the triumph of capitalism.

Most of the drama and character development in The Wire ultimately comes down to the many characters confronting this reality. It's a narrative of individuals struggling against irrational, destructive larger forces, of trying to retain their humanity in an indifferent, dehumanizing world. Some succumb to it completely, while others save enough of themselves to keep living.

Growing into adulthood is partly a matter of understanding life's most difficult realities— obligation, limitation, unfairness, tragedy. Using the maturation of children to demonstrate the overriding theme made Season Four compelling in ways that exceeded even the tremendously high standards of seasons 1-3. Adults at least have the benefit of some kind of self-determination. Watching children fall into the maw of the West Baltimore drug culture was very hard to take.

But Simon's commitment to his viewers has always been one of truth above all else, so it wasn't surprising that Season Four ended largely in tragedy, disillusionment, failure, and loss:

Bubbles, hanging from the police room ceiling, later collapsing in Steve Earle's arms, shattered by the realization that despite his good heart and best intentions, drug addiction had consumed his life and led him to accidentally kill the boy he was trying to protect.

Carver, unable to save Randy from the group home, his guilt made all the worse by Randy's forgiveness.

Norman, seeing that Carcetti is no better than all the rest of the politicians when it comes to putting his interests above those of children who can't vote.

Colvin, realizing that his attempt to reform education was destined for the same fate as his attempt to reform policing, understanding that sometimes speaking truth to power makes things worse, not better.

Bodie, acknowledging that the game is rigged, but holding onto his identity as a soldier and choosing to die on his feet rather than live on his knees. Bodies's death was harder to take than I thought it would be. I kept saying to myself, "He killed Wallace…" but somehow that didn't make it any better.

Dukie, approaching the new high school and then, in a moment, walking away, back to the corner, closed off from whatever small chance he might have had.

Prez, watching Dukie slinging, all his attention and care and teaching undone.

And Michael, now a murderer, waking from a vision of better days with his brother. "Now you can look anyone in the eye," said Chris, but of course Michael was always able to stand up and look people in the eye. That was his strength; that's what doomed him. This is the essential lie of the game, the one that Bodie realized too late: it promises you respect, family, wealth, but all it ever does in the end is take those things, everything, away.

Still, it wasn't all loss and tragedy. The Wire always gives viewers enough hope to get through. I suspect Randy will survive the group home and start that small business yet, and Namond—least deserving by far—has a fighting chance to make something of himself. Given the odds facing students in West Baltimore, one out four was probably generous in the end.

And some of the other characters seemed more hopeful still, with McNulty returning from a better place to the major crimes unit, Cutty together with the nurse who misjudged him, the police who matter more supported and valued than at any time before. And there's always Omar, the one man who lives outside the system on his own terms.

The Wire lets its characters have victories—they just have to earn them. And as pessimistic as David Simon's worldview may be, it's less hopeless than I suspect even he realizes. He lets his characters find decent lives and a measure of happiness because in the long run all is not lost and reform is not impossible. People can be worth more, not less, as long shows like The Wire continue to tell the truth.