“I got the shotgun, you got the briefcase. All in the game right?”

First, I enjoy television. I think it gets a bad rap for the most part. I was raised in a wonderful era of endless cable stations, the height of the sitcom, and programs that had real staying power. The Simpsons undoubtedly offered me some worthwhile life lessons. ABC’s TGIF was a weekly family highlight. Saved by the Bell showed how awkward the teenage years would be, South Park provided hilarious societal satire, and Star Trek: TNG showed an advanced universe where intelligence trumped race and physical differences. Unfortunately, television is definitely in a downward trend. In efforts to save costs, reality shows are spreading and quality programs are dwindling…fast. We live in a world where Arrested Development barely scraped out two seasons while The Hills is thriving.

It’s not all bad. South Park continues to shine brightly into its 14th season. The Sopranos gave us some great years. Seinfeld was the last and greatest show of its genre. The aforementioned Arrested Development was brilliant on top of brilliant. New shows like Breaking Bad and Dexter are sensational to say the least, and lots of 2nd-tier shows are carving out their own niche (Curb, Modern Family, Weeds, Mad Men, and 30 Rock to name a few).

So on the urging of two friends, I decided to finally cave into The Wire. It had been called the “greatest show ever” (1 2 3 4) and President Obama even calls it his “favorite show.” I mistakenly judged it in the past as a simple cop drama that would not hold my interest. Call me an optimist, but most of these shows tend to solve the case in 55 minutes- that’s just not for me. I couldn’t have been more wrong.

As soon as I jumped into season one (of five), it was pretty clear why the show never built a huge following (despite winning multiple awards)- it moves very slow, certainly not the norm in today’s entertainment environment of oft-plot twists and constant cliff hangers. I could probably explain the entire first season in five minutes, and the entire series in half an hour. At first, this served as a deterrent, I doubted I would enjoy the show, let alone finish all five seasons. But slowly, I came to appreciate the complexity of the characters and the greater messages being conveyed.

The Wire is the most realistic television program ever. I don’t know if it’s the best, but there is no doubting the excellence of its sometimes brutally honest nature. It highlights the social stratification our society has rooted itself in and how we have marginalized those in urban areas to an inevitable cycle of perpetual poverty. It shows how a modern city operates behind the tourism brochures and political bullshit. Its content, and its brilliantly written and acted characters, serve as a mechanism to enlighten viewers to a world most of us intentionally shield ourselves from.

Season one introduces much of the show’s core characters while revolving around the illegal drug trade. It’s a fascinating take on the process that doesn’t sugarcoat any realities and also does not dumb-down the lingo, hardships, or externalities. It’s interesting from a logistics standpoint (the drug operation), but more so in the compartmentalization of the people in poor urban communities. No internet, no TV (definitely no cable), near-absolute poverty, and little-to-no direction from any authority figures. It illustrates why so many young (often black) men turn to the criminal subculture; there’s no other option to survive. The characters are dynamic, layered, and sympathetic in their continual string of poor decisions. The plot moves slowly, but it’s methodical and ultimately results in a rewarding narrative. Season one was not the greatness some describe it to be, but it lays the foundation for the show while weaving situations from season one back into the plot as the seasons progress. In this scene, an experienced member of a local trade teaches new members the game of chess by relating it to the drug game.

In season two, the show continues to follow the drug trade and its core characters while also introducing to the city’s fabric the faltering port system and its struggling union of blue collar workers. It’s an appropriate story, middle-class workers are struggling to “keep up” as the income distribution gap in America continues to widen. The port workers in season two are disgruntled, their hours are being cut, young men can’t find an identity in the union or at home, and police pressure and new trade regulation leaves them drinking heavily after work, longing for days past- where things were better for them. Season two is usually referenced as the show’s weakest season, but I found it fascinating. The characters portray realistic economic struggles and the losing battle to achieve or maintain the American dream. It’s a unique dichotomy to season one; the dogmatic struggles of white and black men in Baltimore. Both feel pressure from society to earn individual wealth, both struggle to find legitimate avenues to achieve such, and both turn to deviance in their attempt to reach that financial prestige. It adds a veiled layer of cohesion to the differences of race and social status.

Season three adds a new layer to the city bureaucracy, a legitimate grouping but no less corrupt- that being the city’s government. The intricate nuances of politics are foreign to most people, they don’t see the 24/7 campaign schedules, the dreaded hours upon hours seeking donations, the extensive time away from family, or realize the pressure of the bubble that politicians subject themselves to. Season three offers, IMHO, the most realistic look at politics ever on TV (sorry West Wing). We see the long-term strategies of ambitious politicians aligning themselves for future position coups, the backdoor deals that we don’t like to acknowledge exist, and government’s direct effect on the people of a city. Season three is in many ways my favorite chapter of the Wire saga; there are new conflicts, great new characters, climatic events, a progressive  and controversial strategy to combat the drug trade and its violence, and continued sensational dialogue.

Season four introduces the Baltimore public school system into the metropolitan realm of the show’s reach. It was a superb transition because it also highlights a former police officer character who becomes a teacher, directly linking what he sees in the classroom to his experiences in fighting crime. It also shed realistic light on the urban school system, an organization that most in America feel is broken. Common citizens will blame the mayor, the school board, school administrators, and teachers for abysmal graduation rates, but that’s like blaming a six-month old baby for not being able to walk. The baby, and the urban children, lack the necessary preconditions to succeed in their charged task. A baby doesn’t have the physical strength or coordination to walk and the vast majority of the poor youth lack the direction, discipline, desire, and respect for authority necessary to succeed academically.

The show does a great job of focusing on four particular friends, all students, whose differing family structures, talents, and future lives are directly molded by their respective educational experiences. Season four also follows the political fallout of a post-election atmosphere in disturbingly candid terms. There are also tied-in elements from each of the season’s previous story-lines, a great new drug “boss”, and the subtle tension that everyone’s existence could be radically altered at any given moment. That fragility and woven conflict often make season four a fan favorite.

The fifth and final season introduces the print news media (Baltimore Sun) to the show’s ambitious plot arch. Like many industries, the newspaper business is dying and the Sun is forced to layoff longtime staff as a more educated and white-collar subset of Baltimore’s population joins the struggles of a staggering economy. We follow the police’s never-ending battle to stop violent crime related to drugs, an ambitious young reporter tired of the banal daily news with Pulitzer aspirations, a recovering drug addict, a puzzling serial killer, the paths of the four students introduced in season four, a Mayor who wants to be Governor, and are given clarifying resolutions of all of the show’s characters. You get a sense of what the show achieved in its past seasons and  realize that The Wire provides a welcomed new context that leads one to second-guess their own judgments of society.

The Wire isn’t popcorn fluff. You’re not going to find Michael Bay explosions or Megan Fox. It doesn’t cater to the masses and refuses to compromise its intentions. Yet, I promise you that you’ll find value in its content. While the pace can seem lagged at the onset, there are no shortage of fulfilling epic scenes that define seasons and the series as a whole. If you’re looking for a new show, I urge you to consider it, it might be the most important TV ever made.

You'll never look at Baltimore the same.

“Shit is fucked. You wake up like any other day. You eat, think about bills, dry cleaning and shit. Fucking vacation and your retirement plan. And just like that…(snaps fingers).” – Det. Bunk Moreland, The Wire