Tuesday, April 21, 2009

No Stars, Just Great

I don't watch all that many movies or television shows, folks. Between the three sports, filling the bloghole, doing the day job, playing poker, doing the household stuff and being the Shooter Dad and Husband, the day runs out of hours pretty fast. No complaints.

But I do, eventually, work through my Netflix queue, and after reading enough about the show to know that I was going to geek out on it, I took the plunge and started plowing through "The Wire", the critically acclaimed HBO series that's set on the mean streets of Baltimore. I know this seems a fair way from sports, but wait for it, I'll circle back.

Part of the reason why the show works so well is that it has no known star actors; the cast is just freaking huge, to the point where, just like real life, you are not always certain which character is which, and what exactly is going on. The lead actor is a guy (Dominic West) from Britain who I've only ever seen in one other movie ("300"), where he's the nasty dude that rapes the Queen and gets garroted in public. Thank heavens I saw that flick before "300", or I'd have been completely discombobulated during his scenes.

Since it was an HBO show, it avoided the committee meetings and network notes that water down the product to draw a bigger audience. It's also relentlessly adult, smart as can be, and filled with larger meanings that sit with you for a long time after you watch the episodes. I can't recommend it enough, and someone really needs to smack Joss Whedon upside the head until he goes and works for HBO, and stops wasting his time having shows die with Fox. Thank you.

Now, one of the reasons why this relates at all to sports is that in the past month on the NBA telecasts, the movies "Obsessed" and "Next Day Air" have both been pimped. In the former, you get a romantic triangle with Idris Elba as the meat in an Ali Larter / Beyonce Knowles triangle, which is to say, you get the tough as nails #2 guy in the drug organization being inconvenienced by a predatory temp. It's unsettling, really. In the later, you get what seems to be a slackerish guy taking stuff of a truck in a comedy about missing goods, or the #1 guy in the drug organization slumming. (That'd be the equally great actor Wood Harris.)

But the second and bigger point is that if you are a fan of "The Wire", you're *huge* into it; it's not a casual thing. I'm thrilled to see Elba and Harris getting work, to the point that I might actually go rent these other probable turds that they are getting paid for now, just because I want them to do well from being involved in this show. Just the same way that I'll always have a soft spot for Marco Scutaro, the one-time Magical Man Elf of Oakland who is now improbably holding down the leadoff spot for the equally improbable first-place Blue Jays. Or the eternally lovable Chad Bradford, another ex "Moneyball" star who has bounced around the majors providing good side-armed relief innings for a decade now. He's in Tampa now, rehabbing from an injury. Go, Chad Bradford, go.

MLB+ fans who just geek on the stars (A-Rod! Jeter! Manny! Big Papi! Other Small Corporations!) are missing out on the best stories, the small ones that you root for harder, and more personally. They also look down on the nerdy love that we give these life-sized heroes, because "The Wire" didn't have a huge audience, and these guys generally don't show up on All-Star teams or with rings on their fingers.

Except, of course, when the little guy is on *their* team, at which point he becomes Scott Brosius. Or Paul O'Neill. Or Dave Roberts. Or Jon Lester. Or the other, truly loved, truly human, players.

Anyway, go rent season one of "The Wire", or give me a ton of grief for only knowing about it 8 years after the fact. (And please, no spoilers. I've only just finished Season 2.)

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