By Barry Maupin
Dennis “Cutty” Wise (Chad L. Coleman) is out of prison, getting paid, jogging down the street with Curtis Mayfield’s “Move On Up” throbbing on the headphones, nobody chasing him, out among the other citizens on Election Day (“Into the steeple/Of beautiful people/Where there’s only one kind”). The picture of freedom, he’s just skipped out on a fine lady’s morning plea to come back (“Take nothing less/Not even second best”). He’s doing his thing, teaching his beloved boxing at his own gym (“Remember your dream/Is your only scheme/So keep on pushing”). Then he slows to a walk near a polling place, takes his headphones off, and gets a two-fisted reminder that the taste of freedom is an illusion. 
He calls out to one of his boxers, who went AWOL from the gym last month, as the boy, Spider, hands out election fliers. Spider (Edward Green) spots Cutty coming his way and bolts in the other direction, his face creased with disgust. Cutty’s serial sexual conquests, among them Spider’s mom, come with a cost, in this case the respect of a prized student. An overeager campaign volunteer creeps up on Cutty’s disconcertment and forces him to admit that, as a convicted felon, he can’t vote. The music now barely audible from the headphones, his reverie turned to menace, Cutty snarls, “Move on, man.”
In the episode’s opening scene, Rev. Franklin (Rev. Frank M. Reid) refers to the vote as “our blessed franchise,” but hardly anyone on The Wire, from the corner kids to the politicians themselves, reveres the sanctity of the democratic process. Two days before the decisive mayoral primary, the campaign machine of Baltimore’s Mayor Royce (Glynn Turman) papers the battleground precincts with a Photoshopped image of his top opponent defending a notorious slumlord, knowing that word-of-mouth trumps the establishment channels in the black neighborhoods. Elsewhere, Detective Edward Norris (Ed Norris) rushes to complete a politically sensitive murder investigation involving a witness in order to “cause a major shit stink” for one or another of the mayoral candidates. His partner, Detective Kima Greggs (Sonja Sohn), asks his preference for which way the damage falls. "I don’t give a shit either way. I don’t even vote," Norris admits with glee. "But it’d be fun to fuck with them downtown suits." On Election Day, Councilman Tommy Carcetti (Aidan Gillen) pounds the pavement on his home turf, where an old man (Jack Seeley) who claims to have known Carcetti’s father assures him of his vote for mayor. “(We) expect politicians to steal,” he concedes to a dismayed Carcetti, but implores him to “leave something for the city” by stealing one dollar out of three and not two. And in perhaps the most honest response to the election circus, eighth-grader Michael (Tristan Wilds) refuses easy money hanging campaign fliers on the grounds that “It’s bullshit, man.”
Those who grasp the personal consequences of the election, though, play the angles with greater care. Deputy of Operations Rawls (John Doman) knows a resolution of the murdered witness case will tip the mayoral election according to its findings. Seeing his chance to make commissioner of the police department at the mercy of whoever is mayor, Rawls instructs Sgt. Jay Landsman (Delaney Williams) to stall the investigation until after the primary to avoid raising the ire of either potential victor. Rawls makes Landsman detail Norris and Greggs to uniform election duty, with an orientation session the day before. Rawls paints the corners of his plan while flipping through one of Landsman’s ever-present skin magazines, a closeted gay man burnishing his personal myth with an improvisational flourish. Rawls then hands back the magazine and brags facetiously, “American democracy—let’s show those Third World fucks how it’s done.”
Carcetti seems nearly alone in his outward embrace of politics as public service (discounting, of course, the implicit self-interest of running for mayor in the first place). When Carcetti’s deputy campaign manager, Norman (Reg E. Cathey), consummates a deal wherein State Senator Clay Davis (Isiah Whitlock, Jr.), one of Mayor Royce’s closest political allies, promises to lay off his usual Election Day to and fro on behalf of the mayor in exchange for a large cash donation up front to his campaign committee, Carcetti grapples with the nature of the trade, stating, "Well, I’m not promising him anything, policy-wise." Norman laughs at his naivete. "You think Clay Davis gives a fuck about policy?" Later, they see Davis live on the local news, grinning hand-in-hand with Royce; the next time they see him, Davis is shaking hands at Carcetti’s victory party, reconciling his treachery by telling a befuddled Carcetti, "I coulda had you for twice as much."
Davis’s ongoing fealty to corner kid logic parallels the Election Day shenanigans of a group of eighth graders hired to hang campaign fliers door-to-door. When they learn partway through the job that one of the boys, Randy (Maestro Harrell), already has the money for the work in hand, the rest of them insist on splitting up the money and going to get something to eat. When Randy objects, Donut (Nathan Corbett) demands an explanation. "Fool, if the motherfucker paid you out already, then why the hell are we still here?"
Their pal, Namond Brice (Julito McCullum), isn’t available for the group effort, as he is back on the corner, moving a package on the instruction of his mother, De'Londa (Sandi McCree), a return precipitated by a family meeting with Brianna Barksdale, the matriarch of the Barksdale drug regime for which Namond’s father, Wee-Bey (Hassan Johnson), went to prison. With Avon Barksdale in jail and Stringer Bell dead, Brianna sits atop the defunct organization, all alone amidst her overstuffed furniture. At the meeting, Brianna (Michael Hyatt, who manages to imbue the character with both a stately solemnity and a crackling intensity in each of her rare scenes) informs De'Londa, to her bitter disbelief, that the Brices will no longer receive the monthly stipend meant to ensure Wee-Bey’s silence, coldly justifying, "Ain’t nothing last forever." The two women hold diametrically opposite views of what the drug trade means to their respective families. Brianna’s son, D’Angelo, was killed in prison by her own people on the fear he might spill the family secrets, his murder framed as a suicide and deemed insufficiently important to warrant a credible investigation. While Brianna intentionally obfuscates her reasons for the abrupt termination of the Brices’ allowance, surely one of them is the sour notion that she is supporting another family while hers lies in ruins. De'Londa, on the other hand, considers the business the only way to move forward. Having burned through all the Barksdale hush money on gaudy furnishings and Artis Gilmore throwback jerseys, she sits Namond down and preaches that it’s time for him to "step up [and] be the man of the family." To this end, she drops him off at the corner of a drug-dealing family friend with the admonition, "Make me proud, hear?"
While Namond’s mom is pushing him into the streets, Randy’s is reeling him in. "Please don’t call my foster mother" is Randy’s refrain whenever Assistant Principal Donnelly (Tootsie Duvall) has him in the crosshairs and picks up the phone, a plea he complements with a little insider snitching. His fear of Miss Anna (Denise Hart) learning of his latest jackpot (busted as paid lookout for a bathroom quickie) leads him to offer a last-ditch litany of trade-bait, each offense more serious than the last, until he practically whispers, “I know about a murder.” Though Randy has Miss Anna sitting on one shoulder, he keeps doing things that will set her off. When he rounds up the crew to start the flier job, Donut naturally suggests the work would go a lot quicker with a borrowed vehicle. Randy flares with paranoia, invoking Miss Anna’s name, but in their next appearance, they’re all casually rolling out of an SUV, with Randy grabbing the campaign paraphernalia and leaving the backdoor wide open.
Randy’s math teacher, Roland “Prez” Pryzbylewski (Jim True-Frost), steps in to shepherd Randy through the witness gauntlet and protect him from the attendant notoriety. A former cop, he brings the issue to his former boss, Maj. Cedric Daniels (Lance Reddick), who finds Prez’s earnestness curious. "What’s this kid to you?" he asks. It’s a fair question: as with Cutty and his young boxers, Prez is attempting to forge mentorships with boys who have no reason trust him. The relationships feel forced, like the men don’t trust themselves and are trying to prove something in the face of reminders of their past failures. For Prez, these include an incident in Season One when he pistol-whipped a young boy about Randy’s age during a beer-and-peer-fueled power trip at a public housing project. The boy lost an eye, a transgression for which Prez never forgave himself, as evidenced by his inability to look at the boy when the two randomly crossed paths some weeks later. Now unstrapped from his instruments of destruction, Prez knows he can be more to these kids than he was to the one he blinded, and maybe more to himself in the bargain.
_________________________________________________
Barry Maupin is a contributor to The House Next Door. Wire recaps run after each episode's Sunday night cable premiere. For more writing about the series, see "On The Wire" in the sidebar at right.
Sunday, October 15, 2006
The Wire Mondays: Season 4, Ep. 6, “Margin of Error”
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Posts
9 comments:
Another excellent recap, although one could argue that an important subplot is missing: Omar in the lockup for allegedly offing a "taxpayer", which seems particularly important since it looks to have sparked Officer McNulty's legendarily dogged curiosity/BS-detector. Marlo might soon have bigger problems on his hands than Herc and Dozerman.
That being said, great job highlighting two of the best moments in this episode: Cutty's Curtis Mayfield-scored run and felony reminder, and Deputy Ops Rawls putting Landsman on hold on the Braddock case. ("Let's show these Third World f**ks...")
(I also really liked how quickly the "corner kids" figured out the score with Bunny's "ready for gen-pop" special class, as well as Colvin's knowing, world-weary reponse.)
Here we are, less than a month before our own crucial midterm elections, and it seems we might be getting some of our most nuanced domestic policy analysis from The Wire and our most empathetic war coverage from Battlestar Galactica. Is this cause for rejoicing or alarm? I'm conflicted.
Also, regarding Hizzoner Carcetti: I guess it might have seemed an excessively long and depressing detour to have him simply lose the primary to Royce, particularly given how much more sympathetic they've made him thus far this season. But does anyone else feel that giving Carcetti the election over Royce, the well-funded, well-ensconced incumbent, sorta seems like a cop-out? I mean, it all depends how they play it in the second half of the season, of course, but, given The Wire's usual commitment to playing it straight, having Carcetti win in the manner he did feels less realistic to me than most of Omar's shenanigans.
I was really moved by Michael Williams' acting. I mean when he first walked into the store he was still "Omar" in all his glory. From the moment he saw the cop car in the mirror his demeanor changed and as soon as he realized he was going to spend some time in the lock-up he looked liked a broken man, obviously knowing what lies in wait. I'm very excited to see how this plays out.
McNulty's self castration seems to be complete as he doesn't seem to immediately smell a rat at the fact that Omar is being picked up for a crime that I would think could be obvious to McNutty that he didn't commit. Jimmy asks that over zealous cop, the one with the grown out "high and tight", "has Omar ever been known to take down a civillian". Doesn't McNulty already know the answer to that question? I thought he would, but maybe not. Instead of getting in the middle of the whole thing he's resigned to shrugging it off.
I'm also very intrigued to see if either Randy or Dukie, through Prez and/or Culver end up assisting in taking down Marlo, or at least Partlow, with their information on where the "bodies" are disappearing to. Or will they be erased before it ever comes to that head?
man, I'm loving this season.
kcm: Thanks for your remarks. You're right that the Omar subplot is important, and the decision to omit it from this week's piece was a difficult one, but I wanted to wait for it to develop some tangible connective threads to other storylines first. Suffice it to say that the story receives substantial coverage in the next article (probably at the expense of another important storyline elsewhere; I'm learning the hard way how skilled this show is at spreading the dramatic wealth in a finite space).
As for Carcetti's victory, I didn't find it all that far-fetched. If the racial component seems implausible, remember that Baltimore's current mayor is a young, fresh-faced white guy who unseated a long-serving black mayor dogged by the city's intractable drug-related violence. Also, though Royce is the well-funded incumbent with the backing of a political machine, he had to spend more of the election cycle juggling scandals than getting out the propaganda (I mean "message") Sound familiar?
I'd love to hear from some of our Baltimore readers on this subject, as they surely know more than I do about the current political climate on the ground there.
Thank's for reminding me of Prez's pistol-whipping of season one. I had totally forgotten that. It does add more to the fact that he is trying forge a real trusting bond with his students.
If I was told while watching season one that I would still enjoy the show after McNulty moves into the background and Prez becomes a vital player I would have been skeptical. But this show is so good at juggling its ensemble cast that I'm still as interested as I was with the first season.
The problem I have with Carcetti is his complete change of nature between seasons. In the third season, it was apparent that he was running for the power. He aggressively takes on Royce because he (arrogantly) knows he can beat him, not because he has a deep interest in Baltimore’s welfare. He understood that the city needed to be fixed, but it was the potential power, and his conceit, that drove his campaign. He was not a very sympathetic character, sleeping around, essentially betraying Tony Gray, and willing to take advantage of others’ misfortunes (keeping in tune to the Wire’s theme of looking out solely for oneself). He really wasn’t much different than Royce- both are egotistical jerks, only Carcetti is much smarter and more capable. Now, in the fourth season, Carcetti wants to win because he truly wants to fix Baltimore. He’s suddenly much more sympathetic, respecting his wife, playing with his kids, ignoring the media at the funeral, etc. Did I miss the transformation? Are we just to assume that Carcetti became a lot more likable between seasons? The scene at the end of last season, when Carcetti makes that inspirational speech, could be considered the first signs of his change (it could also be interpreted as Carcetti understanding, and manipulating, the system), but it isn’t enough to truly prove why he’s a different man a few months later.
I just wanted to say that I love that you do the write-ups of The Wire...a brilliant show that I look forward to watching.
I couldn't disagree more with Anonymous about Carcetti. I think that he was on the level about being in civil service mostly for the right reasons in Season 3. Sure, he was a slick self-interested politician, but I think he was also really interested in trying to reform the system. They showed his rapport with his wife and kids as stemming from real affection, and I think his indiscretions were basically out of boredom and untapped ambition.
His differences in Season 4 have seemed to be mostly earned to me. He's been in over his head, but was still basically the same guy, only a lot more tired and over-scheduled. The only major change in his conscious behavior was not sleeping with D'Agostino last night, but Carcetti seems like the kind of guy who would appreciate the importance of the day he was elected mayor, and who wouldn't want to sully that memory with an infidelity. It'll take him a few months to get settled in enough for the boredom to kick in again.
This isn't to say that I particularly like him, but I think I get him and definitely find his storyline compelling.
Other voices:
At TV.com, Matthew Canfield writes, " I didn't expect Omar to be captured so quickly. He was impossible to find last season, and now this? Crooked Officer Walker now has the ring that's been stolen by thief after thief; I wonder where it will go next? Omar's made a lot of enemies, and a very few well-placed friends along the way. McNulty saved his life, just by allowing him his one phone call."
At the San Francisco Chronicle TV blog, Tim Goodman writes, "Honestly, I didn't doubt that Carcetti would win. I give David Simon and his writers credit for so many stunning moments in the past that you couldn't conceivably write off a Carcetti loss. They DO like to surprise you. But I knew he'd win. And the small moments here - Marlo dicking around with Herc and Co., Omar dragged into jail, Namond and his rich-boy jerseys pushed into a wake-up call - were all worth it. Even Randy's fear of his stepmother moving him close to implicating Chris and Snoop was a sweet, subtle contribution. But Ep. 6 was a placeholder. It unfolded, did its work, left with no shame, but also left no lingering memory."
From Alan Sepinwall at What's Alan Watching: "Because of this show's cynical worldview, not to mention Tommy's philandering and narcissism, it would be easy to peg his campaign as one massive ego trip. Maybe that's what it was at the beginning, but he definitely cares now about trying to fix the city, and his victory over Royce was a rare "Wire" instance of the good guy coming out on top. (It's not a spoiler to say that Tommy will win the general election, since even the show treats that as an afterthought.) Now, whether Tommy can actually accomplish anything in the same broken system that rewards the Burrells and spits out the Bunny Colvins, I don't know. But the moment when he got the call and told his wife the good news was really quite moving -- especially because it was the first time Tommy realized what he was in for...Again, if you want to be cynical, you could say that Tommy turned Theresa down simply to avoid a potential scandal now that he's on a bigger stage, but I think there was more to it than that. He wanted to sleep with her, even began kissing her a second time after he initially broke away, but the weight of running an entire city -- not to mention his intimate moments with Jen in the days leading up to the victory -- has him thinking that maybe it's time to be a better person. By the way, I like that Theresa was enough of a grown-up to both understand and not be offended by the rejection."
More from Heaven and Here, Edward Copeland and Matthew Yglesias.
About Carcetti ...
Carcetti is changing in some aspects... i.e. refusing to sleep with D'agostino but the change is not unbelievably drastic as you make it out to be...
He wants to change the city because that will set him up to move up the political ladder... He might want to become a governor... but you guys should realize .. he's only focusing on HIS AGENDA ... which is crime ... remember this season is about EDUCATION... so the kids will end up suffering...
We all know that to reduce crime for the long term, we need to improve education... but Carcetti's strategy is a short term fix...
Maybe Carcetti might come in and be the force who takes down Marlo and his crew but that only opens the gates for the Corner boys in Bunny Colvin's classroom...
Post a Comment