Sydney Film Festival 2008 - Gonzo Review

Gonzo: The Life and Work of Dr Hunter S. Thompson is just what it says it is, a documentary exploring the life and work of the inventor of drug-fuelled reporting style known as “gonzo journalism”. Thompson is probably best known for his book Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas which was also made into a film with the same name by director Terry Gilliam and starring Jonny Depp. Depp narrates this documentary.

We saw this movie on Friday night and were treated to a brief introduction by one of the film’s producers, Eva Orner. Eva works with director Alex Gibney and they had another documentary, Taxi to the Dark Side also showing at the festival this year.

Gonzo is ultimately a very enjoyable film for fans of Thompson’s work and for people looking to learn more about his life and work. The film does an excellent job of explaining his background, upbringing and formative moments, all leading towards the Thompson that is best remembered today. At the same time, the film’s heavy reliance on archive footage (from Thompson’s own storage warehouse), while providing an incredibly intimate platform, does mean that the film is somewhat limited to particular stages in Thompson’s life and career.

This isn’t automatically as bad a thing as it may sound. It allows the film to concentrate on Thompson’s most prolific and impacting years and provides the foundations for understanding how his success began to undermine him. There are a couple of key events that this is done through. The first being Thompson’s attempt to run for the office of Sheriff in Aspen, Colorado. This is an important event in explaining Thompson’s interest in politics and establishing the fact that he always had an agenda for the America he so dearly loved.

Following Thompson’s own campaign for sheriff, the film deliberately highlights the almost eerie parallels between the political climate when Thompson covered the ‘72 presidential election and the presidential election that is currently underway in the US. This is a particularly detailed section of the film and for some viewers, the film may bog down a bit through this period, but for those who maintain even a passing interest in Thompson, or even politics, there are some truly amazing stories in this time. Thompson’s coverage of the election became what many regard his greatest work, Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail. This book was actually written as a series of articles for Rolling Stone, to provide an insider’s look at the campaign trail. Thompson’s reports are astounding in their honest, deceptiveness, inventiveness and unique perspective on what was happening in this election. At one point in the film we see one of the candidates in an interview describe Thompson’s coverage as the “most honest and least factual” of that campaign.

There’s a particularly entertaining story about Thompson’s very deliberate attempts to sabotage the campaign of one candidate with “rumours” of illicit drug use administered by Brazilian doctors in secret. Of course, every attempt to deny these “rumours” gave Thompson the opportunity to calmly report that the force and vigour with which the candidate gave his denials were symptoms of the drugs he was “rumoured” to be using. It terrifies me to think what Thompson would have achieved if he’d started a blog.

As Thompson’s work slowed down following that period of his life, the film jumps forward to his later years and the leap is a little jarring for the viewer. It’s an understandable decision on the part of the filmmakers, but I still feel that there must have been a better way to handle the transition, even with a brief montage and voiceover. Anyway, in all this was an exceptionally entertaining movie that does an excellent job of exploring Thompson’s unique brand of activism and his hopes for the future. Undoubtedly the film will inspire people of all backgrounds to get angry and try to change the world. So if you think you can handle the drugs, the sex, the guns and the subversion, you should give this movie a try.

Sydney Film Festival 2008 - Stop-Loss Review

Stop-Loss is one of the films in official competition this year and is the first feature film since Boys Don’t Cry for director Kimberly Peirce. This movie, starring Ryan Phillipe and Australia’s Abbie Cornish, tells the story of a combat unit in Iraq who endure an horrific battle before returning home where their lives and plans are variously disrupted by the government’s “stop-loss” policy.

Before the screening we were treated to an introduction by Kimberly Peirce in which she explained the origins of the film for her. She was a resident in New York when the September 11, 2001 attacks took place and like many people was deeply affected by the events that took place on that day. Additionally, in the days, weeks and months that followed she realised that the US government’s response was going to involve serious military actions and she developed an interest in the effect this would have on the lives of soldiers and their families.

This became deeply personal when her 19 year old brother announced that he was joining the army to go fight and defend his country. Peirce then described her part in living out one of the more interesting aspects of the Iraq conflict, that of the internet age. If Vietnam was the first televised war, the current Iraq conflict is the first User Generated Content War. Peirce made this clear as she spoke of communicating with her brother and other soldiers using instant messaging technology and of watching videos made by soldiers serving in Iraq online. Soldiers would carry cheap and small cameras with them everywhere, recording the events of their lives and then editing to give an unprecedented view of the life and minds of these fighting units. Peirce has used actual pieces of these productions and added her own material (in order to insert the cast) to add another level of authenticity to the film.

In that regard, Stop-Loss is a soldier’s movie (which is no small achievement for a director outside of the military). While Peirce’s views on the war are readily apparent in the movie, this film takes care with the soldiers and is much better for that.

The film opens with tense scenes as the unit we follow is working a checkpoint in Tikrit. We share the anxiety and uncertainty of the troops as cars approach at speed. Which car holds an innocent family and which is an IED (improvised explosive device)? Suddenly they come under fire, and as per their standard operating procedure, they pursue their attackers. Unfortunately, right into an ambush. What follows is a tense essay on the perils of this type of war for all involved. While the story and action focuses on the American troops, the action is faithful to the cost and consequences for innocent civilians and enemy combatants as well.

When the soldiers return home, we witness different reactions among the men. Some can’t wait to go back, others are relieved to be home at last. As the parties begin, we witness the cracks in the lives of these men. Things start to come to a head when Ryan Phillipe’s character Brandon King is told, on the day he is to be discharged, that he has been stop-lossed.

The last thing Brandon wants is to go back to Iraq, as he sees it, he’s served his time, done his duty and honoured his commitment. He owes the Army nothing and the Army should leave him alone. As he tells his father when asked if it’s because he’s scared, “I ain’t scared, I’m pissed off.”

So instead Brandon goes AWOL (absent without leave) and heads on a trip to try and find a way out of this dilemma. I don’t want to give any more of the plot away, but King’s journey opens up different aspects of the war for the audience. The way these men are bound together through experiences that nobody else can understand, the reasons that they want to stay (”I’m good at this, I can do this”) and the reasons they want to leave (”I’m done with killing and I’m done leading men to slaughter”).

The movie also explores the impact of war and the soldiers’ homecoming on their families and loved ones. Loving reunions are intermingled with marital breakdowns and tense fear as men prepare to return to war.

All in all, Stop-Loss is a very well considered movie that takes its subject and subjects seriously. Ultimately it succeeds because of the tenderness it has for those it portrays. This isn’t a sentimental movie, but rather one that confronts the audience with stark realities while maintaining a clear sense of humanity at its core.

After the screening we were able to participate in a Q&A session with Kimberly Peirce and while the quality of the questions wasn’t great, it did provide us with the clear impression that Peirce was very aware of the issues that she’s confronting. If you’re at all interested in an issues based movie that remains very accessible and isn’t “preachy”, then Stop-Loss is well worth a look. If you’d like to see some of the soldier created videos and thoughts on this movie and the Iraq war, then check out www.stoplossmovie.com/soundoff.

Sydney Film Festival 2008 - Choke Review

Choke is the first adaptation of a Chuck Palahniuk novel since the wildly popular (and incredibly misunderstood - ask me about it sometime) Fight Club directed by (the absolute GENIUS) David Fincher. Choke is the story of a medical school dropout who works in a historical theme park by day whilst by night choking in fancy restaurants in order to be saved (and financially aided) by strangers. It’s a touching story of sex addict meetings, depravity, deceit and a confused man trying to take care of his sick mother.

We saw Choke this evening and I’ve been looking forward to it for a while. I’m a fan of Palahniuk’s work and was curious to see how this one would turn out. I was even more thrilled when we were told before the screening that before the studio would agree to allow the film to be shown at the festival, the organisers had to agree to allow spotters with night-vision goggles to scan the crowd constantly to make sure that nobody was recording a bootleg, pirated version.

The exceptionally talented Sam Rockwell gives a great performance as Victor Mancini and brings to life all of the nuances you’d expect such a depraved and conflicted character to have. I have to warn you that this movie is not for the sensitive or squeamish. The subject matter mentioned is prominent in the story and central to the character and plot development. If you’re not comfortable with detailed conversations about sexual misdeeds and the like, then this isn’t going to be your cup of tea.

Bearing that in mind, Choke is funny. Really seriously funny. There’s a real tenderness and humanity at the centre of this movie that may surprise viewers expecting to see something similar to Fight Club. Don’t get me wrong, the hallmark characteristics of Palahniuk’s work are present and can’t be missed, but this is not Fight Club II. Rockwell is backed up by excellent performances from Anjelica Huston (his mother), Kelly Macdonald (the love interest) and Brad William Henke (his best friend).

For the most part, writer/director/actor Clark Gregg does an excellent job with the source material. His adaptation is faithful to Palahniuk’s book in spirit and in almost all details. That said, I found myself infuriated by the omission of an important plot point late in the film. It had been adequately set up early in the movie, was primed to be revealed and then just wasn’t there. It would have added no more than three minutes to an already brief 89 minute movie. In fact, the entire third act felt rushed to me. It really looked to me like some idiot studio executive had seen the director’s original cut and demanded that the movie be made seven minutes shorter so that it came in under the 90 minute mark. For me, this was a major blight on what had been a near perfect film experience.

To be fair, most audience members probably wouldn’t care as much and many may not even notice, but I tend to think that when you cut out the climactic elements directly related to the title of the film, you’re kind of screwing the audience. I didn’t appreciate being screwed. I’ll be very curious to get a look at a “Director’s Cut” that I’m sure will come out on DVD to correct this blunder.

In the end, if you’re interested in Palahniuk’s work or even like the sound of Choke, this is a very good movie. Unfortunately, somebody screwed the final act up a bit and it’s not as good a movie as it should be.

Sydney Film Festival 2008 - Sukiyaki Western Django Review

Sukiyaki Western Django is Takeshi Miike’s homage to the classic spaghetti western films of old. It’s a weird Japanese, English language, glam-rock take on the genre with a confusingly full-circle rotation of tributes from Akira Kurosawa’s Yojimbo (which was remade as A Fistful of Dollars by Sergio Leone and has also spawned various other remakes) to pretty much every other western/action movie ever made. There are several notable references in this film and awesome cameo from Quentin Tarantino.

From the start to finish, this film provides an absolutely enthralling entertainment experience. In short, it tells the story of two rival gangs in a small town who a vying for control and the people of the town who are caught between them. The story pays tribute at every turn to the films that inspired it. From classic Ennio Morricone style musical cues done with Asian instrumentation to whiz-bang special effects allowing swords to face off against guns. This is just pure entertainment and thoroughly enjoyable as long as you’re willing to let go and follow along for the ride.

It’s not a particularly logical film, really just lurching from one set action piece to the next but it delivers so many great (and genuinely classic lines) from other films with fresh context and modern filmmaking techniques that it really works. Basically if you have ever liked any western ever, you should see this movie. I think this is my favourite of the festival so far.

Sydney Film Festival 2008 - Encounters at the End of the World Review

Encounters at the End of the World is a documentary by acclaimed filmmaker Werner Herzog, and aims to provide a look into the lives and minds of the people who would choose to live and work in one of the world’s most remote and most beautiful locations.

Herzog won some important awards and gained a lot of attention for his controversial documentary Grizzly Man, and it is a film that still divides audiences today. Personally, I find Herzog’s unique approach to documentary making simultaneously refreshing and frustrating.

Herzog makes no secret of the fact that he isn’t interested in the usual subjects or in presenting them in usual ways and this is a great strength of his work. He does actually provide a fresh perspective on the world around us and the people in it. His interviews are fascinating, not because they’re especially polished, but because he is so interested in odd things. This pervasive odd-ness tends to provoke unexpected reactions and tends to reveal a different kind of truth to most documentaries.

This approach was especially well suited to the topic of Antarctica and the people who live and work there. Herzog casts a wide net in this film and the audience is better off for it. We get to meet the folks who drive the heavy equipment, the catering staff, the people growing food and all other sorts along with the research scientists that we most commonly associate with the continent.

The documentary focuses specifically on why these people would come to Antarctica and what they get from being there. In the course of answering these questions we learn interesting things about Antarctica, the work being conducted there, and the kinds of people who find community in this extreme environment.

While Herzog’s particular style is uniquely suited to this topic, I personally feel that sometimes he steps a bit too far outside of the bounds of conventional documentary making. There were several points in this film where I got the sense that he was exploiting his subjects and was made uncomfortable by the way in which certain events appeared to have been staged. None of this substantively changed the content, message or value of the documentary, but for me it detracted from the quality.

Ultimately though, Encounters at the End of the World is a fresh and intriguing look at Antarctica and provides for a very pleasant experience.

Sydney Film Festival 2008 - Japon Review

Japon is part of the Nuevo Mexico section of the festival and is a joint Mexican/Spanish production directed by Carlos Reygadas. It tells the story of a suicidal man who finds something different in a remote rural valley.

We saw this last night at the Dendy Opera Quays, a boutique cinema complex conveniently located by theOpera House. Anyway, before the screening we were treated to a short introduction by the film’s director. He was very sweet and explained a few of the film’s technical details, including a shy apology for the fact that as his first film, it has some obviously apparent flaws.

One of the more interesting aspects of Reygadas’ work is that he doesn’t use trained actors at all, and the kind of performances he manages to draw from his inexperienced stars are exceptional for their raw honesty. I’m sure the distance created by a foreign language helps in that regard, as a non-Spanish speaker I’m not distracted by intonations or awkwardly delivered dialogue in the same way as somebody who is fluent.

Japon proved to be a very interesting film. One of the things that I enjoy about foreign cinema is the glimpse that it affords of the way members of a different culture view the world. Like any art form, this is hard enough to grasp and understand at the best of times, and can be even more difficult when you’re dealing in a context that isn’t necessarily shared. But I enjoy that challenge, and Japon definitely falls into that category.

I’m not sure how to describe this movie. The story, while linear, is different to most cinematic storytelling. I think the best way I can put it is that this is more of an intuitive story, where plot developments and character growth is more similar to real life in that unexpected events bring surprising results.

Visually it is clear that this is a first film. Reygadas makes use of several adventurous techniques in his first time out and not all of them are successful. However, these minor technical issues manage to fit within the kind of story that Reygadas is telling.

All in all Japon was an enjoyable film and provides an interesting look at human relationships. Reygadas has since made two other films (Battle in Heaven and Silent Light), both of which are also screening at the festival.

Sydney Film Festival 2008 - Funny Games Review

Funny Games is a remake of a 1997 Austrian film. This is the “American” version which might normally be a turn-off but has been remade by the original director, Michael Haneke. It also features Tim Roth and Naomi Watts.

We went and saw the movie last night at the State Theatre. Part of the fun of the film festival (indeed, also the Sydney Writer’s Festival, the Sydney Festival and festivals in general) is the fact that you get to check out a bunch of different venues, whilst enjoying an allegedly “cultural” experience. The State Theatre is one of my favourite locations. It’s just a cool old theatre and I dig it.

Anyway, Funny Games is a complex and intelligent movie. This version certainly doesn’t suffer from being a remake. Having the original director do the English language version obviously helps and this film is almost exactly the same as the film it’s based on, without the subtitles.

One of the aspects of this movie that I found particularly interesting was the relationship between violence in the movie and my own “suspension of disbelief”. Michael Haneke is well known for having rather pointed views on the depiction of violence in the mainstream media and, in part, this movie is a response to that. In particular, while the film includes many acts of (often quite shocking and extreme) violence, none of them are carried out on screen. Instead Haneke forces us to focus clearly on the build-up to each incident, the relative causes (or lack thereof) and then the consequences and repercussions of this violence.

In the right hands, this is a particularly powerful tool that can force an audience to confront its notions and understanding of violence. Haneke’s directorial “hands” are well suited to this task and the result is a film that shows no actual violent acts and yet is brutal, tense and at times, quite disturbing.

It was very interesting to me to watch a reasonable number of people leave the audience following the first, relatively mild violent act (a golf club to the leg). It raises interesting questions about all sorts of things.

However, one of the most important things in filmmaking is to ensure that you don’t disrupt a person’s “suspension of disbelief”. That is, their ability to believe in the world and events that the film presents, their ability to suspend the natural tendency to not believe the extraordinary events they are witnessing.

Personally, I have to confess that despite my best efforts, my disbelief did creep into this movie at regular intervals. It may be a personal quirk, insomuch as I know enough about golf clubs, knives, shotguns and various fighting styles to have found many of the events in the movie implausible. I often caught myself thinking things along the line of “I’d never let them do that” or shaking my head at the apparent “stupidity” of the family in the movie.

Ironically, I suspect that this may be part of Haneke’s motivation in questioning the role of violence in entertainment media. I think he is preying on our mythologised assumptions of a personal “Rambo-like” ability to overcome all the odds. In that regard, every poor decision by individuals as they attempt to escape their attackers, every consequence of their poor decisions, forces the viewer to confront the reality that given the same circumstances, we might notdo any better.

For fans of European cinema, I would also add that there are still many touches and nuances that are clearly evocative of a European style, including a very engaging discussion about the nature of reality and whether or not a fictional universe observed in reality is made real by the act of observation.

So overall I found Funny Games an interesting film and while I don’t know that it would be appropriate to describe such a film as “enjoyable”, it’s certainly fair to say that it offers plenty to think about and presents it in a very accessible format. If you’re up for the challenge, I think that you might find it a rewarding experience.

Sydney Film Festival 2008

Well the 2008 Sydney Film Festival begins this week and, as usual, there is an excellent range of films on offer. There’s literally something for everyone in this year’s lineup and (as usual) J and I have had a really hard time working out what we’re going to see. So here’s a short list of some of the highlights we’re aiming to get to:

Funny Games is a remake of a 1997 Austrian film. This is the “American” version which might normally be a turn-off but has been remade by the original director, Michael Haneke. It also features Tim Roth and Naomi Watts. It’s the story of a family’s weekend retreat gone horribly wrong when two teenagers invade their break.

Japon is part of the Nuevo Mexico section of the festival and is a joint Mexican/Spanish production directed by Carlos Reygadas. It tells the story of a suicidal man who finds something different in a remote rural valley.

Encounters at the End of the World is a documentary by acclaimed filmmaker Werner Herzog. This film aims to provide a look into the lives and minds of the people who would choose to live and work in one of the world’s most remote and most beautiful locations.

Sukiyaki Western Django is Takeshi Miike’s homage to the classic spaghetti western films of old. It’s a weird Japanese, English language, glam-rock take on the genre with a confusingly full-circle rotation of tributes from Akira Kurosawa’s Yojimbo, which was remade as A Fistful of Dollars by Sergio Leone and has also spawned various other remakes. There are several other notable references in this film and a couple of worthy cameos.

Choke is the first adaptation of a Chuck Palahniuk novel since the wildly popular (and incredibly misunderstood - ask me about it sometime) Fight Club directed by (the absolute GENIUS) David Fincher. Choke is the story of a medical student who works in a historical theme park by day whilst by night choking in fancy restaurants in order to be saved (and financially aided) by strangers. It’s a touching story of sex addict meetings, depravity, deceit and a confused man trying to take care of his sick mother. The exceptionally talented Sam Rockwell gives an apparently stunning performance in the lead role.

Stop-Loss is one of the films in official competition this year and is the first feature film since Boys Don’t Cry for director Kimberly Peirce. This movie, starring Ryan Phillipe and Australia’s Abbie Cornish, tells the story of a combat unit in Iraq who endure an horrific battle before returning home where their lives and plans are variously disrupted by the government’s “stop-loss” policy. The policy that can return them to Iraq regardless of their previous deployment.

Gonzo: The Life and Work of Hunter S. Thompson is just what it says it is, a documentary exploring the life and work of the inventor of drug-fuelled reporting style known as “gonzo journalism”. Thompson is probably best known for his book Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas which was also made into a film with the same name by director Terry Gilliam and starring Jonny Depp. Depp narrates this documentary.

Appleseed Saga: Ex Machina is a manga. It’s typical manga stuff with robots and zombies and cyborgs and cool stuff. I like manga. If you do too, then I don’t need to explain anything. If you don’t, then my explaining isn’t going to help.

It’s going to be a busy couple of weeks. We’ve got five movies in the first four days. I’m really looking forward to it and will do my best to let you know what I thought of things as they go.

Where the hell did THAT come from?

Recently I wrote about the HBO television series The Wire. If you’ve read the post you’ll know that I can rave endlessly about the quality and beauty of this show. It’s simply the best television show I’ve ever seen (and I’ve seen more tv than you, really).

I recently acquired the show’s soundtrack - “The Wire: And all the pieces matter”. It’s an awesome work in its own right, with a great blend of music and audio excerpts from the show. (Incidentally almost all of the music in the show is known as “source music”. That means that it emanates from a source such as a car stereo or boom box. It’s not the sort of show that has musical cues that tell you how to feel or what to think. The only time there is music laid over the show is in the final episode of each season where there is a special montage set to music.)

In addition to the CD there’s a neat little booklet with several short essays from different people involved with the music on the show and how they see its relationship to the greater story the show tells.

It’s a good production. It’s also excellent listening, musically speaking. There’s a real mixture of musical styles, from rootsy blues to Baltimore specific hip-hop. I’ve really enjoyed listening to it and it’s raised a few questions for me.

I’m a white guy from a decidedly middle-class background in urban Australia. Why the hell do I love hip-hop so much? Don’t get me wrong, I’m not wearing the clothes and trying to talk like I’m from the “hood” or anything. But I love the music.

This is a question that’s plagued me for a number of years, producing various levels of anxiety and personal guilt for “culturally appropriating” music that’s not mine. Most of the time I shrug it off and nod to the beat in the personal sanctity created by the seclusion of my iPod.

For the first time, I think I’ve got a handle on the answer though. It’s the mixture of the music on The Wire’s soundtrack that gave me the clue. You see I grew up in that white, middle-class cultural wasteland, but nobody else in my extended family did. My parents, their siblings, my cousins, my grandparents…. farmers all. Western NSW farming. The dirt’s red out there. Well, actually it’s red on one side of town and black on the other (once you get under the top layer of red).

I grew up with working class parents in a middle class existence (my parents were the first people in their families to get tertiary degrees) and those working class values hold sway long after you move off the farm. So we grew up believing in really hard work and hearing country music songs about the “man” holding us down and keeping us back. Additionally, my parents turned their backs on commercial success to pursue careers in line with their personal values, so while we grew up in an urban, middle-class world, we were at the very poorest end of that middle-class spectrum. I don’t want to make it sound more dramatic than it was, there are plenty of people in the world who had it tougher than us, but there were times when we ate rice with curry powder because it was all we could afford. Ironically enough, we were poorer than all of our farming relatives - which is not to suggest that they were rich, but simply to question our romantic notions of what an Aussie “battler” might be.

So, in the end, I’m a living example of a cultural clash. Half of my experience is the privilege of geography (large urban centre), skin tone (white) and gender (male) and half of my experience is of struggle, a certain sense of desperation and the determination to endure whatever comes my way.

So I like hip-hop and I still like some country music and blues and rock and pretty much anything that can tell the story of people who start out shortchanged by society and stand tall anyway. See, personally, it’s not the success that matters nearly so much as not being bent or broken by the odds. I’ve got no idea what my life might look like from the outside, so I’m not really qualified to suggest a reasonable epitaph, but when my time comes I’d be happy if it said something like “Unbowed”.

The Wire: I apologise for holding out on you…

Friends, I’m sorry. I’ve been holding out on you. It was unfair of me to assume that you weren’t up to the challenge and I apologise for not having told you about the best show on television before. I’m aware that I’ve now left it a bit too late. Plenty of you will already know all about it. After all HBO enjoys an excellent reputation for producing top quality television, and they more than live up to that with shows like Entourage, Big Love, Sex and the City, Curb Your Enthusiasm, Flight of the Conchords, Deadwood, Six Feet Under, The Sopranos and more (really, there’s more than that).

But I’m not just talking about good television, entertaining television or even top quality television. I’m talking about the best show on television… The Wire. The Wire is a five season dramatic series based around inner city crime and politics in Baltimore, Maryland. Baltimore is a fascinating venue for such a drama. Statistically it carries one of the highest murder rates in the U.S. (the graffiti featured in the opening credits refers to the city as “Bodymore, Murderland”) and while the city has a lot of new growth and development it is one of the most socially stratified cities in America. It is also one of the few cities in the U.S. in which there is an African-American majority in the populace, which has an interesting impact on various social issues. This setting has also resulted in The Wire being one of very few American television shows to feature a predominantly African-American cast. All of this provides rich fodder for The Wire as it tackles complex and detailed issues with unflinching honesty.

And those are the two key characteristics that make The Wire such essential viewing, it is complex and unflinchingly honest in its portrayal. The complexity comes in many layers and rewards the engaged viewer as it reveals deeper truths about the story and society in general. Beginning with fully rounded, three-dimensional characters, The Wire shows us life on all sides of crime in Baltimore. It’s not just the simple good guy/bad guy shit you get most of the time. No, this is complex. We see the criminal networks, we see the street police, the homicide detectives, the city hall politics, the kids corrupted by failing school systems, the failure of the media. The Wire is here to ask everyone the hard questions that culminate in the hardest question of all, the one addressed to each of us - “How did we allow our society to become like this?”.

The Wire also ignores established television conventions and doesn’t present you with a neatly tied up episodic format. There isn’t a new case every week that’s wrapped up nicely with a bow by the end of the hour. In the words of Detective Lester Freamon (played by Clarke Peters) in an early episode, “We’re building something here.”

Freamon means it as a challenge to his younger colleagues, as he encourages them to do the hard slog of real police work. Working steadily and purposefully to build a proper case with real teeth. But the line works equally well as a challenge to the viewer. The show’s creators are stating their intentions and daring us to follow with them as they build something.

So rather than a mindlessly boring episodic structure that kills you with repetition, we are treated to a show that tackles a different theme each season, working its way through the plight of the underclasses in western society and exploring with righteous indignation the social structures that have forced (and kept) these people under. Season 1 begins with an investigation of the Barksdale crime syndicate, an incredibly sophisticated drug operation. Season 2 takes us to the docks and the impact of the loss of jobs on the local community, where working class dreams crash up hard against the realities of modern economics. Season 3 leads us to city hall and the impact of city and state politics on funding decisions and statistical reporting (and how these things lead to “juking the stats”) - and in turn how these things impact on the streets. Season 4 brings us into the public schools, where kids from the streets suffer under a system that not only can’t serve their needs, but is obsessed with getting funding the only way it can, from standardised testing (more juking the stats). The fifth and final season heads into the local media, questioning why we get the news that we do in the way that we do, and how much of the picture that leaves out.

That’s a lot of content, but the show’s on safe ground with all of it. The show’s creators have lived much of this reality. David Simon was a reporter for the Baltimore Sun newspaper for many years before pursuing his writing and producing career and Ed Burns was a Baltimore homicide detective and a teacher in Baltimore schools. In addition, they deliberately sought out writers with expertise and experience in specific areas of knowledge, working tirelessly to ensure that this show was as realistic and authentic as it could be.

The Wire is heavy stuff and it takes real concentration to follow it, but the show’s not hard watching. All of these stories are told with real humanity, tenderness and humour. We love the crims and hate the cops, except for the good cops and the bad crims. We experience shock and outrage at how rigged the system is and learn to believe that we really shouldn’t believe almost anything we’re told. We grow to love various characters and are devastated by the things that happen to them, and (even worse) the things that they do to themselves. On top of this, The Wire has the benefit of an excellent cast, many of whom are from Baltimore and have lived in the midst of the world the show depicts.

However, in the world of The Wire, the story rules and everything (and everyone) else exists to serve the story. This unflinching honesty presents us with a world in which bad things happen to good people for little or no reason at all, a world in which good people do bad things for good reasons. A world in which compassion has consequences, in which crime does pay and in which everyone might lose (but they might not). And this is not the kind of show in which a character’s popularity has anything whatsoever to do with their longevity. The story rules.

In spite of this bleak realism, The Wire holds on to its humour, humanity and hope. As viewers we need these, if it weren’t for them we’d be crippled by the horror of the mirror held up to the world gone wrong.

In short, The Wire is the finest art that television can produce. It is powerful, affecting, insightful and intelligent. This is epic drama at its finest. The sort of stuff that is hard to find in a mass-media, pop culture world. It’s a modern re-working of Greek tragedy that commands attention. Forgive the hyperbole, but trust me, you need to see The Wire. Start with Season 1, Episode 1 and go from there. You can thank me later.