To be honest, only one returning dramatic TV series moves me to cancel plans and hole up for marathon viewing sessions of a cluster of new episodes.
This favorite drama is not a procedural, not a mystery, not a serial about lost or missing persons.
It’s not a hit, and you won’t catch its “stars” bantering on the late-night talk show circuit.
The epic television achievement that demands loyal attention, even as it launches its fourth season, is HBO’s difficult but compelling “The Wire.”
Underappreciated by the mass audience, “The Wire” is considered by its fans to be among the most literate of modern television experiences. Layered and textured, brilliantly written and exceedingly well cast, this is a stunning story of urban decay in our midst, and the conflicting human motivations that perpetuate it.
Think of it as a good read, played out onscreen.
“The Wire” returns at 8 tonight on HBO for another season of 12 episodes.
In past seasons, David Simon’s complex creation has revealed the drug culture in Baltimore’s inner city; examined the corrupt business methods of the police, politicians and drug lords; considered the role of union officials, dockworkers and their interactions with law enforcement at Baltimore’s busy harbor; and, by extension, surveyed the decline of the American working class.
A wiretapping investigation begun in the first season carried over to the third, along with a look at the hideously ineffectual penal system.
For season four, the focus is about to shift to the next generation and the hopeless state of the schools in the ‘hood. The education system, the next compromised institution to be turned inside-out by this series, is ripe for Simon’s rich storytelling.
The kids who work the corners for drug dealers are psychologically armed against neglect at home. They also know how to steel themselves against the best efforts of an altruistic former cop turned teacher.
In the course of doing the job of reflecting who we are, some movies and TV series reveal the dynamics of modern relationships, while others zero in on politics or a particular subculture like organized crime.
“The Wire” chooses the decaying American city as its focus, using the metaphor to talk about crumbling dreams and dysfunctional institutions. Maybe it’s about a declining empire.
The results of the skewed priorities in neighborhoods like those seen in “The Wire” are recognizable everywhere. You don’t have to live in an East Coast ghetto to know what it means to have educators teaching to a standardized test or burned-out teachers simply running out the clock.
As tonight’s hour opens, four boys are figuring out how to spend what’s left of summer vacation before eighth grade beckons. They’ll be in the class of “Prez” Pryzblewski (Jim True-Frost), a gentle soul bounced from the police department and hoping to do some good as a public-school teacher.
Detective Jimmy McNulty (Dominic West) is skipping boozy nights in favor of home and family.
Meanwhile the mayoral race is heating up, with all the gladhanding and graft that entails. Mayor Clarence Royce (Glynn Turman) and his primary challenger, Tommy Carcetti (Aidan Gillen), launch their campaigns. But their exercises in media spinning and photo opportunities are the least interesting aspect of the series. Those bits have been done elsewhere, by “The West Wing” and the upcoming “Justice,” among others.
What “The Wire” does so exceptionally well is create an absorbing universe populated with fully formed, colorful characters and compromised social systems that speak to our widest, deepest concerns.
This isn’t relaxing viewing. Consistently a troubling, powerful experience, “The Wire” always generates a mass of questions. That’s a refreshing change from too many so-so hours of less filling TV. You may find yourself consulting others who follow the series to suss out who did what last season and what demons they battle.
“The Wire” can be a heavy, time-consuming habit but, judging by the first batch of episodes this season and the three seasons that came before, it’s worth the investment.
TV critic Joanne Ostrow can be reached at 303-954-1830 or jostrow@denverpost.com.
