2 Sentence Review: Treme and/or The Wire
Trying to explain (or, for that matter, even succinctly summarize) the myriad reasons why The Wire—one of the most, if not simply THE Most, critically lauded and acclaimed TV series in the history of, well, TV—is so damned richly deserving of every, single last comma and syllable ever committed to said veritable mountain of acclaim is, to put it mildly, a fool’s errand; so, fuck it … why even bother, right?
Instead (by way of circumstantial evidence, but also in the vein—pun intended, on every level—of “the first one’s free”), I will direct the attention of any indulgent reader(s?) who, having waded through the morass of the sentence/paragraph above, stuck it out and made the jump down to this sentence/paragraph to David Simon‘s latest effort (if, indeed, it is not at least a partial oxymoron—an “oxyhalfwit,” if you will—to characterize something so seemingly, impossibly effortless as an “effort”): Treme, which is also on HBO (that, in itself, almost always a good sign); which, much like The Wire, brilliantly evinces Simon’s exceptional and unique genius for capturing, caging, and displaying (like some kind of post-modern, dripping-irony-like-a-Borgia-dagger-dripping-poison P.T. Barnum) for all to marvel at—in equal parts horror, disbelief, and delight—perfect, gemlike-in-their-cut-clarity-and-above-all-hardness, Honest-to-Gosh American stories (and, lest anyone, in that same context, reflexively invoke the thought of, say, Ken Burns, let me be clear: FUCK Ken Burns! That’s right, Ken; you heard me, you fucking … documentarian!); and which, conclusively (in my view), proves beyond any doubt, reasonable or otherwise, Mr. Simon’s incomparable genius, regardless of the particular context in which that genius happens to be applied—whether, say, granting us glimpses of Simon’s uniquely vivid and vicious vision of cops ‘n’ crooks gettin’ got on the broken-crack-vial-littered streets of Ball Mer/Bawl-Mer/Ball-di-more (as in Homicide: Life on the Street or The Wire) or of the “legal speed”–popping, heads-fucked-by-too-many-cartoons-and-FPS-vidja-games-and-of-course-Apocalypse-Now-playing-24/7-in-their-heads-’n'-hearts U.S. First Recon Marines in Iraq (as in Generation: Kill) or of the Bizarro World, Hell-on-Earth-with-a-soundtrack-rightly-outa-Heaven version of “Ki sa se bon en Nouvu Olean, mon cher!” that is life, post-Katrina, in New Orleans—and, thus, CASE CLOSED!*
* And, just in case you, dear reader(s??), somehow forgot what it was that we were trying to prove here, in the first place: it is simply that David Simon is a genius among geniuses—the Mozart of serialized television, if you will—and you need to be watching, if you haven’t already watched, The Wire, Treme, and any other damned thing Mr. Simon decides to throw our way … got it now? Good. Enjoy!