'The Wire': All Around Charm City, Cue the Blues

So now I'm depressed. No, it's not because of David Simon's too-close-to-reality depiction of the final days of the print newspaper biz. (Although it didn't help my mood, watching the show's journalists grousing about shrinking news holes, dwindling circulation, shuttered international bureaus and that "voluntary separation plan" -- including scenes that fittingly bookend McNulty's "homicide by strangulation" cop case.) Rather, I'm talking about the blues born of the utter bleakness permeating last night's episode:

No one's good. At times, it seems no one's even trying to be good.

Oh, there's an exception or three. There is Gus. Gus has guts. He's the lone voice of reason in his nutty newsroom, asking his powers-that-be: "How come there's cuts in the newsroom when the company's still profitable?" Man after my own heart. Oh, and let's not forget Bunk, boozy Bunk, who's revealing a bit of a moral center. And Michael, poor Michael, who -- shaken by last week's homicide -- is trying to get back in touch with his inner ninth-grader.

Still, we're talking a handful of decent souls swimming against the tide in a seriously polluted harbor.

People aren't pretty when they're scared. Trap them in a corner and they behave in all kinds of unbecoming ways. Clay Davis -- so corrupt, so slimy, so... oleaginous -- has the sense that he's going down. The grand jury's out to get him. So he slithers down to the mayor's office and tries to cut a deal with Carcetti, who's in a pickle because Burrell's been cooking his numbers and the mayor needs to find a new police chief, preferably a black one... fast.

And there is no honor among thieves. What's his name -- Method Man, I mean, Cheese -- is stepping out from behind Proposition Joe's back to form an alliance with Chris, because he's dying to get a piece of Omar. Snoop and Chris torture and kill an old blind man. This is not fun to watch. At all.

Then there's Scott the Evil Reporter, who fabricates yet another quote. Someone "Jayson Blair" this dude and blow the whistle. He must be stopped.

Meanwhile, Marlo shows his human side: He stumbles awkwardly into the wild world of money laundering, traveling to Antilles to check on his money, where he can't seem to grasp the concept of, "I don't speak English." Also in the Caribbean is Omar, who's chilling with his boytoy and sharing the wealth with the local kids. Until he gets word that the old blind man is dead. He gets all choked up: Bye, bye beaches. Hello, East Baltimore.

McNulty continues his free-fall. He's spotted with a floozy on the hood of his car. He's chugging his flask and continuing his elaborate plan to fake a serial killer and trying to get other cops and Alma, the Sun's cub reporter, to take the bait, much to Bunk's horror and disgust. But just when it seems as if McNulty's going to be the lone loco in the cop shop, McNulty confesses all to Lester. And Lester, sane Lester, signs up for the madness, telling him, "A straight-up strangle isn't enough. ... Sensationalize it. Give the killer some [expletive] fantasy, something bad, real bad. It's got to grip the hearts and minds."

Oh, our hearts and minds are gripped this week. And the Baltimore blues play on.

-- TERESA WILTZ

Teresa Wiltz  |  January 20, 2008; 11:20 PM ET The Wire
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