The Wire 20 years on: A “great” piece of art?
The question of what constitutes art is something which philosophers have grappled with for centuries.
However, there is some consensus on what makes great art. The works of Mozart, Beethoven, Picasso, Michelangelo et al., are all renowned, and common amongst great art is that its stature is not limited by the time it was made. For example, the delicate notes of Liszt’s Liebestraum still elicit the very same emotions today as they would have done over 150 years ago.
Longevity is one of the best arbiters of artistic quality. Both classical literature and music are defined by their longevity.
It’s undoubtedly easier to classify great art when it comes to music or literature. Both have been around for hundreds of years. Television is a relatively new form of art, barely a hundred years old — given that, can a TV show be great art, and can it last through the ages?
That brings us to The Wire. Nearly twenty years on from its first airing, does it still evoke emotions, or has it aged poorly?
The premise of The Wire is simple, it is a story about a police wiretap, focussing on a drug syndicate in Baltimore. Yet, despite the title of the show, it’s not really about a wiretap, it’s the story of an entire living city.
The show has no true main character, but has a number of protagonists, primarily representatives from the police and the projects. As the seasons go on, the scope of the show expands, first moving to the docks to gather a look at the working-class; season three forays into the political area and the fourth incorporates the local Middle School, whilst the final season brings the media into frame.
Despite incorporating more and more elements, there is no sense of expansion for the sake of expansion. The storylines affect one another and interplay as they would in real life. Linking each storyline is an authenticity that is developed through the richness of the world and the characters within it.
The artistry of The Wire comes from its storytelling. The range of voices and dilemmas that face them make the viewer empathise with each character, be it the plight of an orphaned child selling drugs, or an overworked teacher trying to just make it to lunchtime.
The Wire, first broadcast in 2002, broaches subjects such as racism, police power, homophobia, class and gender stereotypes, alongside more orthodox themes like political corruption, alcoholism, family drama and ambition. Those issues seem even more pressing than ever, and their emotional resonance with the viewer is consequently even stronger.
Despite examining all of these issues, The Wire does not make the viewer pass judgement. It presents each issue with the complexity they deserve, and we are left to interpret morality and how we define what is and what is not acceptable.
The wiretaps are never the focus of the show, the people and their stories are. That’s what sets The Wire apart as a piece of great art. In the age of the internet, wiretaps are decreasingly important, yet the challenges each character faces hit as hard as they did when aired.
Not only this, but the artistry of the storytelling technique shines as bright as ever. Despite juggling countless protagonists, settings and themes, the story itself never deviates in quality.
One of The Wire’s greatest strengths is to never acquiesce to an easy pay-off. A fairy tale ending, where the villains are caught, the cycle of crime ends, and the police live happily with their families is implausible and would do a disservice to the trauma the characters endure. Every character lives by their decisions and mistakes, and these decisions add to the authenticity of the world, and are why The Wire’s characterisation of Baltimore is so compelling.
The show never ceases to surprise. Characters are offered redemption and some grasp it whilst others stutter — through not oversimplifying these opportunities, the viewer is forced into both empathising and sympathising with them, creating an intimate relationship and understanding that only great art can provide.
These techniques of storytelling are not bound by the times and they are executed brilliantly.
Nearly twenty years on, The Wire’s storytelling is still exemplary. It is the touchstone for television shows, and the qualities that made it exemplary do not fade over time. A great story will always be a great story, irrespective of when it was first told.
Emmanuel Kant referred to great art as “without an end”, and that is precisely what The Wire is. The Wire speaks to the human experience, and as a great story told brilliantly, it is without doubt great art: philosophically provocative, emotionally evocative and utterly captivating.
