I Like to Watch

One of the show's creators, Ed Burns, is a former cop who spent seven years teaching middle school in Baltimore, and it shows. "The Wire" doesn't bring us the same old chirpy, cotton-candy school setting of "Beverly Hills 90210," or even "Buffy" or "Veronica Mars." Like the cynical, opportunistic Baltimore police department, the school depicted here is inhabited by those exhausted, world-weary faces anyone who went to public high school will find hauntingly familiar. The main players here -- the principal and assistant principal -- are fallen idealists who've given up on making big changes but try their best to work within the boundaries of a crumbling, neglected institution. What's the most disconcerting about this setting is how blasé the teachers are in the face of the most shocking developments: After years of trying to teach uninspired kids, many of whom are from broken or unhappy homes, they develop a diminished sense of what's possible and merely want to prevent violence and chaos in the classrooms.

All of which might sound like yet another depressing layer to throw on top of Simon's already dystopian vision of urban life in America. Yet somehow, "The Wire" remains as invigorating as it is disheartening. For all of their flaws, the characters have real, subtle charms that win us over, slowly but surely, until we can't stand to see harm come to any of them. Who could be more lovable than Dukie, the outcast who's being raised by drug addicts, or Randy, the affable entrepreneur?

Of course, these innocent kids, sophisticated beyond their years, are in danger not just of underachieving or falling out of school, but of falling in with drug kingpin Marlo's ranks. And this season, Marlo makes Bell and Barksdale look like a couple of nuns. At least Bell and Barksdale had some principles guiding their decisions -- namely, they did whatever was good for business. But if Bell and Barksdale fell roughly into the category of lawful evil, then Marlo has taken over their territory with the unpredictable grip of chaotic evil, acting on impulse without any overriding logic governing his choices. He sends people to their death without a second thought, and his cronies enact his orders like soulless drones with no discernible redeeming qualities. Making Marlo such a bad guy is a departure from past seasons, when the writers have taken pains to paint equal measures of good and bad in their criminals and their law enforcement and political figures. But it's a departure that makes sense: Burns and Simon and the other writers are suggesting that, powerful and vaguely alluring as Bell and Barksdale may have been by the show's third season -- and indistinguishable as their selfish quest for power was from the selfishness we saw in corrupt politicians and cops working within an inherently corrupt system -- there are still criminals out there who simply have no heart. OK, Marlo does seem to love pigeons a lot, just as Barksdale's man Wee-Bey loved his fish. But so far, that's where his humanity begins and ends.

There's so much to dissect on "The Wire," but don't let that fool you if you don't watch it. All this talk of how complicated and labyrinthine the show is doesn't mean it's difficult or tedious to watch. Yes, it's tough to trace the relationships between various ranks within the police department and the city and state governments, but that doesn't mean this is an incredibly serious drama it takes a degree in literature to understand. "The Wire" is funny and odd and sad and, above all, engrossing. If anyone knows of a good online primer that will get potential viewers up to speed without putting in 39 hours of TV viewing, let me know, because more of you should be tuning in for this incredible series. (And no, it's not a cop show -- it transcends that genre the way "Battlestar Galactica" transcends sci-fi.)

For those with a little time on their hands, I can't recommend renting the first three seasons highly enough. Trust me, by the third DVD, you'll be in so deep, you'll be saying things like "Sure 'nough" and "No doubt" and wishing you were a scar-faced renegade with a big-ass gun. But more on Omar next week -- there's way too much on the schedule to tackle first...

Next page: "Jericho" begins with a bang