The Wire: Season 1, Episode 8.

S1E8
“Come at the king, you best not miss.”

Apologies for such a long gap between essays – the day job has turned into a day and night job over the last month and half or so. I’m back in Minneapolis now, so I’ll be diving right back into my coverage of the best show ever.

I know people who’d argue that Seinfeld is the best show in the history of television. I’d strenuously object for a number of reasons (not the least of which is this Danny Hoch story). I often think of Seinfeld as the anti-Wire (not in terms of quality – it’s a great sitcom, to be sure): where the former is the “show about nothing,” The Wire is the show about everything, arguing, in a nutshell, that to understand any aspect of big city living, you need to understand all aspects of big city living. That level of understanding is, of course, an impossible pursuit, which is probably why so many folks find it easier just to worry about Seinfeldian minutiae. The world is too big for us to have any meaningful control over the big picture, the argument goes, so why not focus on the small things we can control: minor imperfections, small hiccups in our everyday ease and comfort. It’s simpler, and often more productive, to complain about our inability to find our car in a parking lot than about the impossibility of stopping the drug trade.

When you’re engaging in this kind of tunnel vision, what you’re actually doing is creating a system, a means of framing a larger conversation into something more manageable. Most cop shows frame their conversations around the problem of solving an individual case: Person X committed Crime Y and is therefore a bad guy, Officer Z’s job is to capture the bad guy. The root cause of the crime is unimportant because the system is reductive – if you did something bad, you’re bad and deserve to be caught. It’s the way the police system works in real life too – digging deeper only leads to problems, because you start to discover things that the system can’t control.

For example: Regular Baltimore police do buy-and-busts. They stay on the street level. It’s not entirely effective – it doesn’t stop the drug trade, doesn’t stop the violence – but it works within the framework of the system the city has created. The goal of the buy-and-busts is not to stem the tide – it’s just to bust the dealer. The system that has been created is one that frames the conversation in a very particular, manageable way: there are drug dealers. We can put them in jail. The more we put in jail, and the faster we put them there, the better we’re doing.

McNulty’s detail (and yes, Daniels runs it, but it’s McNulty’s) tries to disrupt the system. They realize that the conversation needs to be reframed. There are drug dealers because there is a drug supplier somewhere. There’s someone who runs this crime organization. If you find the head of the organization, you get a whole ton of dealers off the street, and you stop the murders that come along with that drug trade. But you can’t find that head with buy-and-busts. You need to dig far deeper. So they do. And what happens when they dig deeper? As Kima says “we thought we were gonna come up with drugs – got money instead.” They realize that the path towards finding the head is not through the drugs, but the money – because the head knows that there’s a system in place too, and he knows that by staying out of potential buy-and-busts, he can’t be caught. So they follow the money (and here’s where we finally get to episode eight).

Following the money leads the detail to someone who’d never get caught in a buy-and-bust, and he happens to be the driver for Clay Davis. And suddenly, one step removed from the simple, contained, buy-and-bust system, the detail has discovered something unexpected and much more difficult to control: possible political involvement and corruption. Yes, the detail is trying to stop street level crime, but they’ve stumbled across the unspoken and overwhelming dirty secret at the heart of the system: street crime can’t really be stopped without implicating folks in powerful places, and that’s why these conversations need to be framed small. Burrell states this fact in so many words: “I asked you to put a charge on a drug dealer.” He wanted his employees to handle a very specific situation in a very specific way within a very specific situation. Instead, he got sprawl. His employees – who are detectives, meaning that their very job is to dig deep – dug a little too deep, poking a hole right through the wall of the system’s delicate infrastructure.

The challenge for Daniels and his team is to know exactly how well his bosses actually want them to do their jobs. Bosses don’t get to be bosses because of exceptional skill at doing the job; they’re elevated because of their skill at managing the system. And therein lies the problem: the police system was created to solve the crime problem, which was, of course, the ultimate mission of the police department. Over time though, the mission of the police department became to best serve and maintain the system. The system can best be maintained by focusing only on what it can control. Clay Davis is not something the system can control.

Whew. I’m not sure I even (a) said what I actually wanted to say there, (b) made any sense, or (c) actually addressed the episode at all. So I’ll do that now with three quick hits:

*The scene with McNulty and his kids in the market says so much about this character: he’s trained his kids to play front-and-follow so effectively that he can put them to work in actual criminal investigations (and they know to get a plate number) – and he’s so obsessed with the job that he sees nothing wrong with that. He cares about the kids enough that he panics, deeply and truly, when he can’t find them, but he’s so self-absorbed that he can’t even describe what they’re wearing.

*Even when Wallace is all but destroyed – getting high and sleeping all day – he’s still the parent in his household, helping the runts with their math homework. And it’s a truly great scene: the kid can’t do math out of a textbook, but put the word problem in the form of a question about the count, and he can rattle it off in his head, because if the “count be wrong, they fuck you up.” There’s nothing at stake in the American education system (ah, that word again), so failure becomes an easier and more seductive option. And of course, that’s all just set-up for season four.

*And then, just as you’ve watched eight episodes of deep social commentary, eight episodes of systems breakdown analysis, of interconnected relationships and other heady intellectual goodness, you get a legitimate, jump-out-of-your-seat visceral moment: Stinkum and Wee-bey go to kill Scar, but Omar gets the drop on them, killing Stink and wounding Bey. We’ve added a whole other kind of layer of tension here, the reminder that yeah, we’re thinking about structure and institutions, but there are still guns involved, which means, yeah, everyone’s in constant danger of being shot. The Wire may be a high-culture novel, but it’s also a low-culture action movie.

But take a closer look at what’s actually going on in that shootout: Stink and Bey are off to claim new territory the way they always do: roll up on someone weaker, take him out, take over. The Barksdales have a system, and it works. But Omar – Omar’s something their system can’t control.

A Quick Note of Disgust.

Variety reviewed Danny Hoch’s Taking Over in LA recently.  I disagree with a big chunk of the review (as you can imagine if you’ve read about my love for the play already), but was particularly digusted by this:

In the most affecting sequence, ex-con Kiko ambles over to chat up a film crew. Hoch and helmer Tony Taccone evoke the excruciating pain as an (unseen) P.A. pulls away from the man’s attempt to connect, even with an offer of free labor. Kiko explodes — “You understand what I’m sayin’ to you? You look. At me.” — but his abject apology and hunched-over frame clearly indicate he’ll be back in the joint real soon.

The Kiko section is indeed very powerful — lots of folks have told me that it was their favorite part of the show.  It’s complicated and deep and speaks to that basic human emotion that we all feel when we want something so simple and innocent but are forbidden from having it for the stupidest and most intractable of reasons.  all that’s true.  But let me repeat that last line:

Kiko explodes — “You understand what I’m sayin’ to you? You look. At me.” — but his abject apology and hunched-over frame clearly indicate he’ll be back in the joint real soon.

Really?  That’s what you take from that moment?  The guy apologizes, holds in everything that’s bubbling to the surface in the face of someone coming into his neighborhood, taking from his neighborhood, not giving back to his neighborhood — this guy catches himself after an outburst of anger at the fact that someone, some lowly member of a film crew at that, someone that this guy is showing respect, someone who has the chance to make an impact on his life by bending the simplest of rules to allow the guy to save some face in front of his mother after getting out of jail and attempting to show that he’s getting his life on track — he does all this, and the moment breaks your heart — and you think that all shows that he’s destined to go back to jail?

I swear, there’s a massive cultural gap at play here, and it’s something that demands attention.  Keep in mind who is reviewing the plays when you read those reviews, folks.  Some people just don’t get what they’re seeing.

White Director, Black Play.

I was going to post this Playbill article a few days ago and attempt to start a discussion about the politics of a white man directing an August Wilson play on Broadway.

The Pioneer Press did it for me.  And they did it better, because they were able to get some actual quotes from real live theater folks:

“If this meant that everything was fair game —- if it meant that Marion (McClinton) would get to direct ‘Cherry Orchard’ at the Guthrie, that would be one thing,” [actor James Williams] said. “But that’s not what this means. This is another way of saying that the dominant culture knows more about us than we know about ourselves.”

Personally, I don’t think the question is whether or not Bartlett Sher can direct the play.  He’s a talented director, and he’ll do his homework, and they’ll have top-notch actors.  It should be pretty good, and it should be worth seeing.  The issue, of course, is access — if Lincoln Center won’t hire a black director to direct an August Wilson play, what will they hire a black director to do?  I get that Sher is the resident director, he’s on staff, he’s done big things for them before, and I get (and kind of think it’s great) that he’d want to direct a Great American Play to follow up his Great American Musical (South Pacific) — and it’s wonderful that Wilson’s work is considered to fill that role.  But if the door doesn’t open for directors here, where does it open?

This all connects to another issue that I’ve avoided here, but I’ll bring up now: the first production by Lincoln Center’s new developmental arm (LCT3) was a hip-hop play — which is great.  I’m all for hip-hop theater busting through to the big time.  There are too many of us who have been banging away at this for almost a decade now to continue to be shut out of big-time houses.  But it wasn’t Eisa Davis,  or Full Circle, Bamuthi, or well, me: it was Matt Sax.  Who happens to be white.

Now look.  Many of the really exciting hip-hop theater artists out there are white (Baba Israel and, of course, Danny Hoch come straight to mind).  And I’m only passingly familiar with Clay — I wasn’t able to get over and check it out.  I’m not saying that it’s not a worthy play — it very well could be.  I have no beef with Matt Sax.  He’s a young artist working with hip-hop — it’s a good thing for his work to get done.

But.

This is hip-hop theater’s “big break?”  And it’s not someone who has been part of the genre’s rise?  And it’s not a person of color?  LCT doesn’t have season “slots” really, but if we can’t get in with this slot, where do we get in?

That’s a bit of a digression, but it’s speaking to the same idea.  The issue is access.  If white folk want to direct August Wilson, that’s great.  If white folks want to do hip-hop theater, that’s great.  But there are tons of very talented directors (and writers and actors and…) of color who should be getting the chance to do Shakespeare or kitchen sink relationship shows or Tom Stoppard (and women doing plays by men, and…) — it’s got to go both ways.

TAKING OVER extends.

You’ve got another chance to see it.

If you’ve recently moved to the city (within the last ten years, let’s say), then I think you MUST go see this.

If you’ve been here forever, then I think you MUST go see this.

Seriously.

Go see the damn show.

Go See TAKING OVER.

Danny Hoch is one of the reasons I do theater the way I do it.  I saw his Jails, Hospitals, and Hip-Hop back in 1997 (wow…way back when), and was struck by how he was able to use what he saw around him to create important, exciting, fun theater that mattered.  Years later, I got to meet him through my own playwriting, and got probably the biggest validation of my young career when, after the first real reading of Welcome to Arroyo’s, a producer asked Danny what kind of work his Hip-Hop Theater Festival produced, and Danny pointed back to our stage and said “that.”  (I hope that sentence makes sense.)  Years after that, I found myself at Danny’s house, stirring the intricate squash-based meal he decided to whip up for a small group of friends who had come back to his place after a reading of Till the Break of Dawn.  I say all this to point out that I have undying respect for and gratitude towards Danny as an artist, a producer, and a human being.

So maybe I’m a little biased, but I think that his new play Taking Over is one of the best pieces of theater I have ever seen.  It does exactly what great hip-hop theater should be doing in this day and age: combining worlds, making disparate ideas and styles and cultures meet to form something new and powerful.  It’s personal and it’s political.  It’s hilarious and completely serious.  It’s a relatively even-handed study of gentrification that still manages to take a strong point of view and stick to it wholeheartedly.  I love this play.   You need to go see it.

Broadway: Best of Times, Worst of Times.

Michael Riedel wrote an article today about the grim state of the Broadway stage.  His argument is tied, not surprisingly, to the recently announced closings of Hairspray, Spamalot, and Spring Awakening.  Each of those shows was expected to run a lot longer than it did.  I’ve seen the first two shows, and think they’re great Broadway works, and it’s a shame to lose them prematurely.  (I’ve still got a Hairspray post sitting around someplace — I’ll post it before they close, I promise.)  I haven’t seen Spring Awakening, but I’ll find a way to sneak into it before it’s gone too.  Even so, each of these shows have had respectable runs, if shorter than hoped (although even there, I’d say each of these shows did a bit better than might have been originally expected).

Riedel also cites three shows (13, Boeing Boeing, and A Tale of Two Cities – see what I did with that title?) as being “in the quicksand,” finding themselves in danger of closing soon.  As a point of fact, I’ll just mention that none of those three could have been considered sure things at any point in their runs or development by any stretch of the imagination.  Boeing Boeing might even have overperformed, thanks to its Tony win; it has recouped its investment and is sending out a tour.  The other two shows were each trying to capitalize on existing monster hits (High School Musical and Les Miserables, respectively), at least in terms of perception, and I wouldn’t consider it a shock or an aberration for either to close quickly.

The situation is bad, yes.  Money is tight all around.  Broadway costs are high (I mean the costs of putting a show together, not tickets — although that’s applicable too).  Broadway audiences tend to come from out of town — so what happens when the US economy tanks?  There are lots of concerns, for sure, and we haven’t seen the worst of the crisis.

But.

Riedel says: “New shows will be arriving in the spring – “Hair” will go to the Shubert – but there’s very little on the horizon that looks like a “Wicked”-size smash.”  I’m not so sure.  Take a look at what’s opening this season:

9 to 5 — Certainly not a guaranteed hit, but a Dolly Parton score, a good cast including Allison Janney, and a woman-centric storyline.

American Buffalo — Mamet with stars.  Stars that appeal to different ethnic groups — Leguizamo and Cedric will drive tickets for sure.   Open-ended run, meaning that new stars can slide in and out to keep tickets moving.

Billy Elliot — Juggernaut in London (although I hated it).  Maybe it won’t translate to the US.  Maybe it will.  If it does, it could be a monster.

Shrek — If this isn’t a potential juggernaut, I don’t know what is.  (I resisted the urge to call it a monster hit, but you know.)  Big title, great creative team, big-time Broadway cast.

Vanities — Okay, now this one looks like it could close fast.  No big title, no huge stars, pretty small and low-concept.  Then again…it’s a three character musical (which means it’s a cheap musical), it’s intermissionless (which makes it a fun, quick night at the theater, which should help word of mouth), it’s about women and friendship and nostalgia, and it’s been a hit (in play form) everywhere it’s been before.  If this was an NFL fantasy draft, this would be your sleeper RB pick.

Waiting for Godot: Limited time JUG GER NAUT.  Nathan Lane in Beckett?  This could be the not-for-profit event of the year.  And as I mentioned before, Bill Irwin is the really exciting part of this whole project.  This will be a huge hit for the few months it’s up.

West Side Story — MONSTER.  There’s no guarantee, of course; the last Broadway revival was in 1980 and ran for only 333 performances.  But it’s West Side Story, for god’s sake.  I just hope that it and In The Heights can coexist.

You’re Welcome America: A Final Night with George W. Bush — Will Ferrell on Broadway.  Playing W.  Limited run.  Spamalot will have already closed.  This is THE boy musical of Broadway for those two months.  Anyone who gets me tickets to this wins at life.

And that’s not mentioned Spider-Man, which, truth be told, could be the biggest financial disaster in Broadway history, or could make $300 million and change the way things are done at that scale.  Nor does it take into consideration Godspell, for colored girls…, Brigadoon, or Nice Work If You Can Get It, all of which have technically “postponed” their runs and could pop back onto the radar with open theaters (and an aggressive investor or two).

Nor does it mention any of the Off-Broadway shows that could end up as transfers based on buzz; I’ve heard buzz for Taking Over, Danny Hoch’s genius one-man show (read: Danny Hoch’s genius “cheap” show), and Beau Willimon’s Farragut North (which was originally rumored to open on Broadway with Jake Gyllenhaal.   Who knows what else could pop up?  Last time Mos Def and Jeffrey Wright did a show together at The Public, it moved to Broadway.  They’re working together again on a John Guare play.  Think that’s not a contender?

Nor does it mention the new TKTS booth in Times Square, or the new one in Brooklyn, both of which should help a steady stream of discounters find their ways to the struggling shows.

Yes, I understand that not all of these will hit.  Not all of them will recoup.  Some will flame out spectacularly.  And yes, there’s a lot of star casting involved, and movie remakes, and all the stuff that folks hate about Broadway (although no jukeboxes, interestingly).  And yes, there will be huge financial hits to come, and Broadway will suffer as the rest of the country suffers.  Who knows what will happen to investors?  To audiences?  To the city itself?

But a disaster?  Maybe I’m I’m being a little too Tracy Turnblad enthusiastic/naive, but I don’t see it as a disaster just yet.

(Oh yeah…I forgot Dirty Dancing too.)

Shameless Self-Promotion Week Begins.

I’m going to do a bunch of posting over the next 14 days.  A good chunk of that will be cleaning up some theater stuff (getting back to that list of shows I mentioned a few days ago, and adding a few new ones, including Danny Hoch’s Taking Over which is pure unadulterated genius and hip-hop theater at its best), some political stuff–the usual.  The other chunk will be a bit more focused on telling you all a little more about me.

Now, I know that a lot of you who read regularly already know a lot about me.  Some of you might know a lot about my work.  But there are enough of you who don’t know me at all, and I’m going to work to change that.  Towards that end, I’ll be taking you on a tour of my CV (which I’ll also be updating); this tour will be without humility.  I’m going to tell you why I’m awesome.  I’m also going to make sure you know about the books I’ve written and published (a book of poetry and a one-act play), the books that I’m going to be publishing or published in (an anthology or two and maybe another surprise), the projects I’m working on (including my big trip this weekend) and other stuff that straight up celebrates me as an artist.  I don’t often brag.  I will this week.  It might be obnoxious.  It’s necessary.

Later this week, I’ll be posting permanent links to let you buy the books.  Please consider doing so: they’re cheap, they’re good, and they might just be going up in value before you know it.

Danny Hoch is Back.

(Danny Hoch is a great artist and one of the reasons that I do what I do. He’s also a friend. I support his work wholeheartedly. I’ll be seeing this show in Brooklyn–you should see it whenever it rolls through your borough.  Also note–I’m keeping this post on top for a few days to spread the word, but I’ll have all kinds of content throughout the week.  Read past the first post.  And now, a note from D. Hoch himself. )

What up NYC Family! It’s been a while since I last performed here at home in NYC and I got a new solo show that opens at the Public Theater in November. But THIS WEEK I start a little tour of the boroughs with the show and ALL PERFORMANCES ARE FREE. I’m gonna hit the Bronx, Queens and Brooklyn in three neighborhoods that are being hit hard with changes, namely the South Bronx, LIC and Williamsburg.

It would be an honor to have you there and support. Of course if you wanna wait until the Public Theater so you can support my pocket, then I won’t be offended if you wait until November. But the boro joints promise to be hot, and there are also a few post-show discussions.

Warning: The language is strong, and there is absolutely NO LATE SEATING. They will NOT let you in, even if you get there 5 min late. No exceptions.

Please nobody ask me for free for free tix because the TIX ARE FREE TO EVERYONE. But you MUST reserve them. NOT here on Facebook, but you can reserve tix at hhtf.org or at this link:
https://www.ovationtix.com/trs/cal/107/1222869600000;jsessionid=7A7E4BBB3E70AD4CA3B3EC59A94CAEF3.app4

For group tix, contact Mike Primo
michael@hhtf.org

The performance schedule is:

Oct 1-4, Bronx FREE
Oct 6,7,9,10 Queens FREE
Oct 11 Brooklyn FREE
Nov 7 – Dec 14 Manhattan (Public Theater – Not Free

Hope to see you all at one of the shows this fall.

Danny
(representin’ P.S. 220, J.H.S. 157, LaGuardia H.S.)

The Public Theater’s 08-09 Season

The Public just announced their 08-09 season.

For me, the big news is (unsurprisingly) that Danny Hoch’s Taking Over is going to have its New York premiere, finally. For those who don’t know, Danny is one of the fathers of hip-hop theater, and his solo work is one of my major inspirations as an artist. And he’s a good man, and a heck of a cook. I absolutely cannot wait to see this show.

There are some huge names in this season: Guare, Sondheim, Wolfe, Sher, Glass, Akalaitas, Durang. Am I disappointed to see no new names, no Latinos, no Asians, two African-Americans, and only two women represented? Of course. Do I think it’s a defendable season? Probably–these names are likely to sell tickets, and The Public needs to be responsible on that front. I’ll give them the benefit of the doubt that smaller projects (Under the Radar, the LAB, the various readings) as well as the creative casting that the Public does so well will flesh some color back into the place.

Still, it’s very, very interesting to see a season like this, especially when NYTW is condensing their output. Who is going to be doing new playwrights and new playwrights of color especially?

If not The Public, then who?