Unconfirmed Reports

“You got to let it out or let it go.” – Waylon

A very solid episode. This season needed some focus and traction after last episode and “Unconfirmed Reports” (aka “CSI comes to Baltimore”) provided that. It did what “More or Less” failed to do and filtered out the noise and honed in on a few characters’ journeys.

In particular, the world of the Sun really came into being. Last episode, it felt clunky with too many people talking too much jargon (anybody know what an “e-dot” is?), but the scene where the executive editor talks about his desire to have a “Dickensian” series of articles on the city schools brought the season’s theme as well as each character’s ambitions and agendas into focus.

It appears that Haynes is to this season what Bunny Colvin was to the last: the consciousness of the season, the consummate, old-school professional trying to enforce a sense of decency and professionalism in a Machiavellian world obsessed with results.

Haynes line, “I think you need a lot of context to examine anything,” reminded me a lot of Colvin telling the superintendent, “We pretend to teach them and they pretend to learn. They’re learning for their world, not ours.” They both spoke truth to power and failed to make an impression.

One could make the case that Haynes’ line sums up what “The Wire” is essentially concerned with: capturing the context of modern, urban life. And that’s largely responsible for why the show is beloved as much as it is: this obsession with portraying this context as accurately as possible.

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But this episode belonged to McNulty. It’s hard to know immediately what to make of the gut-wrenching final scene. This incredibly grotesque act he commits shows the man in complete free-fall, corrupting the main source of his pride: his work. After the FBI agent tells him, “Fish and fucking Wildlife couldn’t help you,” as he tries to reignite the Stanfield case, he just loses it.

And yet, this act of desperation, of utter frustration has happened so soon. Before, McNulty has displayed a lack of control over his drinking and his womanizing, but it’s always been accompanied by a great commitment to police work. We saw his frustration building, but by attempting to make that death into a murder, what are his intentions? The way the scene played out, it just felt like he wanted to say, “Fuck you” to the city bureaucracy the loudest way he could.

At the very least, for a show that has always avoided cliffhanger episode endings the way a network show like “Lost” is so fond of doing, this dramatic turn feels just a bit rushed. I feel that it’s also lacking context. Two episodes ago, the guy was fine, and now he’s reignited his alcoholic womanizing ways with a vengeance. Is his relationship with Beadie going badly? Do his kids hate him? It has all happened a little too quickly, we didn’t see his breaking point build up quite enough to justify his actions.

(For those of you who watched “Six Feet Under,” it reminded me a little bit of the episode in Season Four where David (Michael Hall’s character”) picks up a hitchhiker who almost murders him. It felt like a radical and unnecessary plot twist at the time. The show took a while to recover from that.)

Bunk’s reaction was also telling. Earlier in the episode when McNulty grabs a body that has come in, he deplores him for “ giving a fuck when it ain’t your turn to give a fuck.” But that is what is so winning about McNulty: he does give a fuck in a world where everybody is consummated by self-preservation. And that’s exactly what Bunk does: flees the scene in an act of self-preservation. A professional who wanted the job done right would have intervened.

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There was more than one parallel between McNulty and Bodie in this episode. “There are no fucking rules. Fucking game is rigged,” sounds a lot like Bodie telling him that he felt like “those little bitches on the chessboard” in last season’s finale (did Bodie say “game is rigged” too? I forgot). Neither man can accept being ground down by the higher-ups, and both commit a brazen act of self-destruction when they feel that they have lost total control over their situation.

The deference of Haynes stands in stark contrast to McNulty’s self-implosion. Like McNulty, he is contradicted and betrayed by his superiors, but instead of insolence, he follows the chain of command.

Of course, Scott’s “E.J.” probably has about as much validity as Stephen Glass’ “Juke Micronics” or Jayson Blair’s description of Jessica Lynch’s front yard (Glass and Blair are two of the most famous cases of journalistic malfasence in recent years), but he’s a good soldier and follows orders. But, like McNulty, he’s haunted by the idea that the job wasn’t done right, waking up in the middle of the night.

You never hear it being discussed, but one of the things that Simon seems concerned with the most on the show is the American work ethic. Hell, he devoted Season Two to it. All the heroes on the show are the professionals who show the highest commitment to their work. The show is full of characters who are obsessed with their work and derive much of their identity and sense of self-worth from it. It’s a far cry from one of the current business books in vogue, “The Four Hour Workweek.”

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Great to see Avon back. That scene with him and Marlo reminded me of how great an actor Wood Harris is. He is so much more likeable than his former nemesis who only grows more and more petulant. “I’m what you might call an authority figure around here.” He brings so much life to Avon’s character.

Avon shows something that Marlo lacks: respect. Marlo shows no loyalty, no trust of anybody he does business with. Avon, by contrast, has “nothing but love” where he came from. He and Marlo battled, they played the game, and Marlo won fair-and-square by their rules. Avon respects that. But, sitting in that prison waiting room, you don’t get the impression that Marlo cares one bit for Avon’s West side pride. He’s simply the conduit with which he will use to cut out Prop Joe.

I liked the way the triple-homicide of Junebug and his crew was shot from Michael’s perspective. You just hear shots and screams, you only see the blood and carnage from the police view. The scene was shot to show how the murder of these three people effected Michael.

He’s being groomed to be as cold-blooded and remorseless as Snoop and Chris but he’s not there yet. He questions the perverted honor code of Marlo and his environment where any perceived disrespect is a capital offense. As Chris explains to Michael, “It doesn’t matter if he said that Marlo (sucks dick), it only matters that people think that.” But there’s no one in his world to tell him how disgusting and destructive that logic is. There is no economic advantage in killing Junebug, no territory to take, it’s just about demonstrating toughness and demanding complete subjugation.


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A good Bubbles episode. Poor guy just is not ready to take on any responsibility in his life. He just can’t seem to decide whether he’s meant for this world or not. People ask him to fill bigger shoes but at the end, he only feels comfortable doing the dishes. I liked how the end of the episode contrasted him and McNulty: two frustrated men who can’t quite deal with the uncomfortable realities they face.