Posted by SH
For those who don’t know, the title comes from a old journalism tradition of ending stories that reporters hand into their editors with a “-30-“. There are a lot of explanations out there, but no one really knows where it came from. That makes it a perfect note on which to end “The Wire,” which continually questioned why things are the way they are.
With countless characters and even more storylines left unresolved, the final hour and a half had a lot to get done. What will happen to McNulty and Freamon now that the serial killer ruse has been discovered? Will Marlo and his gang go free? Would Dukie fall into drugs? What about Michael? Can Bubbles stay clean? Will Templeton be exposed? How will all this affect Carcetti’s political ambitions? The finale manages to answer all of these questions and more in ways that were sometimes expected, sometimes surprising, and other times a bit far-fetched, which is not something you can often say about this show. Still, for drama you couldn’t beat it, and it was a splendid benediction for what will go down as one of the best shows TV has ever produced. Yeah, even better than “According to Jim.”
The first scene is of a flustered Carcetti, after learning that the issue he has made so much mileage out of was all fake. Unlike his trusted adviser Norman, the mayor can’t see the humor and irony in the police practicing the same cutthroat maneuvers to get what they want that politicians do. The governor-to-be knows they can’t expose the lie, and they insist Daniels and Pearlman sit on it while other measures are taken. Rawls, after being assured of a high post should Carcetti take Annapolis, agrees to the “back channel” method of punishing McNulty and Freamon. Daniels is incensed, insisting the cops be fired and indicted. Pearlman, however, realizes that she is as vulnerable as anyone should the truth come out, and manages to keep Daniels at bay.
Before he realizes his cop days are numbered, Freamon runs down one more perp — a longtime courtroom worker with a gambling problem who had been selling confidential information to the highest bidder. The one the good guys care about is Levy, who believes he can prove the wiretap used to nab Marlo was illegal. Pearlman uses a taped phone call between the leak and Levy to broker a deal that puts Partlow behind bars for life, no parole, while others get several years and Marlo goes free on the condition he retire from The Game. The look on Levy’s face when he knows he’s been caught is a moment five years in the making. Finally, the resourceful snake is stunned, and has no answer … at least for about 30 seconds, before he blusters through and saves just a little face.
McNulty and Freamon deduce that, since they’re not immediately in handcuffs, their lie has become too big to expose publicly. Freamon is so bold as to figure “We have as much on them as they do on us.” The serial killer case is immediately ordered shut down, but nobody told Templeton, who is so hungry for new copy that he decides to put himself at the scene of an attempted kidnapping. McNulty is understandably ticked, and he knows the reporter is lying. An undercover officer who witnessed the non-event confirms it. But McNulty is powerless to prosecute because of his own predicament.
Gus flies off the handle when Templeton’s latest farce is prepped for front-page play, and we’re thinking, OK, this is where he comes down hard on him. The crusty editor has been gathering evidence of Templeton’s deceit, but fails to come up with a smoking gun. After finally being called a fraud, Templeton swears at Gus, storming out of Klebanow’s office. This is where you’d like to see Gus track down the twerp and lay into him. Instead, Klebanow tells Gus it’s gotten personal between him and Templeton, and that Gus needs to go home. The brass have made their decision, and Gus has made his. Alma figures out on her own that her colleague is a liar, and, in a scene that takes place offscreen, throws her lot in with Gus. Not a wise move, as it turns out. The next time we see them, Alma is being shipped out to a county bureau and Gus is reporting for duty on the copy desk. (As a longtime copy editor, I’m pretty bummed out about the show’s idea of punishment.) Templeton, meanwhile, stands collecting a Pulitzer with Klebanow and Whiting.
Many people had made the case that the media angle was by far the weakest thread in “The Wire” this season. But I’d been willing to play along just waiting for everything to be set right. We get no such payoff, though, and David Simon unfortunately just gives further ammo to those who say he’s merely settling old scores from his own turbulent days at The Sun, which according to Simon included a Templeton-esque fibber. There’s no way Templeton wouldn’t have been exposed somehow, or at least there’s no way to believe he won’t be exposed in the future. But to actually show them going off and winning the Pulitzer is just too much. You can practically hear Simon screaming “Look at those bastards!”
Instead of Gus getting to yell at Templeton, it’s McNulty who gets the honors. When the reporter comes in to try to ID a suspect, McNulty tells him about the faked phone call and photos. Templeton sits there, scared s@#$less. It’s a nice scene, but because McNulty can’t really do anything about it, it feels hollow. If the idea was to show how the media don’t cover stories correctly, the fabrication angle now just seems like a red herring. I’d wager that showing sloppy reporting might have been a more effective tool than going with fake reporting.
Honest reporting does reap rewards, however. Fletcher’s piece on Bubbles earns the subject’s praise, even though he’s leery about being portrayed as a hero just because he’s not out getting high. It also seems to finally break the ice between Bubbles and his sister, as he finally gets to come out of the basement and join her at the family dinner table. Fletcher also takes over Gus’ old job, which brings a reluctant smile to the old dog’s face, recognizing that the king is dead, long live the king.
Matters get worse for McNulty when an honest-to-goodness homeless killing comes to light. Only this time, it’s not a red ribbon, but one of the white cloth variety. Apparently a copycat is on the loose, and Rawls and Daniels tell McNulty to put down the case fast, for it will be his last. And so he does, thanks to a business card left at the scene that leads him to that crazy guy we’ve seen periodically throughout the season asking everyone for their business cards. Since the guy’s a loon anyway, Rawls & Co. decide to link him the all the homeless killings, even if they can’t prosecute him.
This all ties very neatly into saving the case against Marlo, who upon selling his hook-up with the Greeks and getting out of The Game, is seen hobnobbing with Baltimore bigwigs in an effort to stake a claim for himself in the so-called legitimate business world. But before they even serve hors d’oeuvres, Marlo finds he still needs a taste of thug life. So he hops an elevator and heads down to a corner in the ‘hood and picks a fight with two random guys, getting himself bloody but emerging triumphant. No way this guy’s gonna last.
As for the streets Marlo supposedly leaves behind, a power struggle unfolds for who’s going to take over. One thing’s for sure, it ain’t Cheese. Just as he’s spouting off about how things need to be run, Slim Charles puts one in his head, claiming vengeance for Prop Joe. Meet the new boss, same as the old boss.
Pearlman sits down McNulty and Freamon and gives them the option of playing out the string in the department’s backwaters or cashing in. They both call it a day, though Freamon, with 32 years in, seems more than happy to go back to painting his miniatures and lovin’ up Shardine. McNulty is a bit more ambivalent, but we get the idea that he’s finally going to find out what kind of man he is. Is it the eerily together dude we saw at the end of Season 4, the loutish cad who reported for duty for most of Season 5 (and all the other seasons, really) or somewhere in the middle? Was it his job dictating his behavior or just him being an ass? Schlepping up to Richmond to retrieve the homeless man he used in the serial-killer plot is a good start to redemption, but dramatically it’s a bit creaky. The series’ final words, McNulty saying to the man, “Let’s go home,” also are a bit puzzling. What exactly is he going to do with the guy?
More assuring is the interplay between Bunk and Kima, giving each other hell at a fresh crime scene. The highlight of the episode, undoubtedly, is the Irish wake given in honor of McNulty and Freamon that echoes the one in Season 3, given for a physically dead cop whose body they laid out on the pool table. Everybody gets pretty dang mushy, with Landsman giving his fellow Irishman a big, sloppy hug and calling him the best murder police they had. Freamon joins in on the fun, but stops short of getting down on the table and snuggling with McNulty. When Kima stops by later and unapologetically tells the duo she’s the one who snitched on them, they accept it and invite her in for a drink. As it should be.
Less reassuring is Michael’s new lot in life, as the new Omar. He’s seen robbing Marlo’s former bank, and letting the guy know just why he’s doing it. Filling other roles is Sydnor, who like McNulty before him is talking up judges to get what he wants; Carver getting his Sgt. stripes from Daniels, who decides he can’t play the game and walks away from his commissioner post to finally use that law degree; Pearlman becomes a judge; Dukie sadly becomes the new Bubbles, pre-recovery (which breaks the heart of us, the viewing public, and of his former teacher Pres, who just tried to help); Carcetti becomes governor; and Valchek yuks it up as the new commish. The game is still rigged, Simon is saying, but the players are new.
So not much has changed in the five years since “The Wire” began. At least not in David Simon’s Baltimore. But the face of television has hopefully changed forever.