Was The Wire the most existential drama in the history of television? Episode in and episode out, all those with dreams or standards, no matter which side of the law stood on, were brought low if not destroyed in a world in which cynicism, corruption and indifference governed human affairs the way gravity governs the physical universe. Again and again, The Wire emphasized that there is no escape, that whether you are Stringer Bell, trying to convert you narcotic millions into legitimate business, or Frank Sobotka, trying to build a new container port, or Lester Freemon, trying to roll up an insidious drug ring and all its tentacles, or Tommy Carcetti, trying to build a better city, or Bunny, trying to localize the damage of drugs, or anyone hoping to do anything great and ultimate, you will be thwarted, if not by man’s corrupt institutions, than by man’s corrupt nature. The only redemption that The Wire allows is individual (Bubbles, Damon) and the only enduring satisfaction is the quiet honor that can be taken by going out every day and stoically grinding out an honest day, like Bunk and Kima. There have been grimmer series on TV—Oz, for one—but none that so disdainfully dismissed our ideas about order, progress and virtue as naive and vain. All in all, the five seasons of this show constituted an incredible piece of art, but one that more than anything else makes me want to buy a gun.
