David Simon's New Show Treme Debuts on HBO

To say David Simon's new HBO show, Treme, is about music would be like saying his old HBO show, The Wire, is about drugs. You would be correct to say so, but you would be leaving out much of the show's essence. Treme is about the city and people of New Orleans as much as it is about anything. And if it is about anything, it is about everything. Simon has a real talent for using micro-level story telling, to make macro-level observations. In The Wire, he used the stories of alcoholic cops, gay stick-up artists, dope fiends, corner boys, drug kingpins and political aspirants to paint a picture of an American city in decay. In Treme, the stories of dead-beat musicians, stoned disc jockeys, Mardi Gras Indian chiefs, disenchanted lawyers, and frustrated chefs are combined to paint a picture of a city struggling to rebuild.

Despite the similarities between the underlying social forces that steer the characters' lives (poverty, crime, lack of quality education, gentrification, inequality, political corruption, mistrust of law-enforcement), Treme and The Wire are very different shows. Don't get me wrong, the feeling of "grit" that pervaded The Wire is still present, but the hopelessness and gallows humor are toned down. Fortunately, the trombones and trumpets, and the hope that their sounds inspire, are cranked way up. It is hard to be completely depressed when you have such good music drifting into your open windows from the parade marching down the street.

For all of you Wire die-hards out there who thought that you might be disappointed by Treme, rest assured, you won't be. The show is good, the characters are easy to care about, the setting is dynamic and the acting is top-notch. It isn't preachy or accusatory like Spike Lee's When the Levees Broke, but it also doesn't appear to let anyone off the hook either.

Last night's episode begins with a parade and ends with a funeral. And the only real difference between the two is the tempo at which the band plays. This is the spirit of the city of New Orleans that Simon captures perfectly: no matter what happens, the band plays on.

In the premier episode, we are introduced to seven main characters and slew of people that may turn into main characters:

Wire alum Wendell Pierce (Bunk) plays Antoine, a down-on-his-luck trombonist who has to scam cab drivers for rides to his gigs.

Antoine's ex-wife Ladonna runs a neighborhood bar that serves as a de facto town hall for the remaining residents of Treme.

Ladonna turns to attorney Toni for help finding her brother, who has been missing since the levees broke.

Toni's husband Creighton, played by the always fantastic John Goodman, is some kind of authority on the hurricane who spends most of his scenes doing interviews about Katrina with various media outlets. Thus far, he is my favorite character by a mile. Seeing Goodman in this role makes me wish that Simon had been able to convince him to be in The Wire. He would have been absolutely perfect as Jay Landsman, McNulty's portly, foul-mouthed Sergeant. During an interview with a swarmy BBC reporter he rails against the government, calling the disaster "man made catastrophe, a federal fuck up of epic proportions". When the reporter asks him why the American tax payers should have to foot the bill for reconstruction, Creighton responds with, "Since when don't nations rebuild their great cities?". The guy from the BBC then has the stones to call into question whether New Orleans is indeed a great city, while simultaneously dissing the city's music and culinary traditions. Creighton goes Walter Sobchak on his limey-ass and throws his microphone and camera equipment into the canal. Later, after going on a tirade against the federal government during an NPR phone interview, Creighton fires off an classic zinger, screaming "This ain't Lake Wobegon, god dammit" before slamming the phone down. I slapped my knee repeatedly. Public Radio shtick gets me every time.

Speaking of public radio, Steve Zaun plays the role of Davis, a DJ fed up with having to spin overplayed records for pledge drives. When he isn't smoking bud or breaking into record stores, he is sleeping with Janette, a chef who is struggling to keep her restaurant staffed and stocked with food to due the flooding.

Clark Peters, another veteran of The Wire (Lester), plays Albert, a Mardi Gras Indian chief who returns to the city to find his home completely flooded and mold-ridden. He abandons his house and sets up shop in a corner bar. Can someone please explain to me what a Mardi Gras Indian is? Clark Peters is black, not Native American, so I don't think Mardi Gras Indians are real Indians, right? All I know is he has a wild-ass costume that he throws on to convince a neighbor to help him clean up the bar he is living in.

Netflix Instant Watch Review of "4 Life"

Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you another installment of the Unfresh Feeling's ongoing series of Netflix Instant Queue reviews. For the newbies out there, these postings are a service I provide to you where I choose an obscure movie (often either foreign, independent or straight-to-DVD) and basically tell you how fucked up you would have to be to enjoy it.

This week's movie is called 4 Life, a gangsta flick set in Baltimore. The plot (a word used very generously in this case) is about a feud between the two shot callers of a drug gang (I assume they are involved with drug sales, but the movie doesn't actually show any drugs nor does it make any direct reference to the source of the gang's income) called Dogs 4 Life (some of the characters pronounce is 'Duggs' for Life, which is funny to me because I live in Baltimore, but probably just confused viewers outside the 410 area code).

The reason I decided to watch this movie, aside from the fact that it is set in my hometown, is because it stars several veterans of The Wire. (Aside from sharing several of the same actors, 4 Life features plenty of those obligatory wide angle, panning west to east, transitional shots of the inner harbor and downtown skyline that cut to gritty Westside street corners that David Simon's team perfected. In 4 Life they just look low rent.) Wood Harris, who, so adeptly, played Avon Barksdale in The Wire portrays Davon in 4 Life. Davon wants to get out of the game, but his incarcerated partner Ty, played by Page Kennedy (most famous from his role as U-Turn on Weeds), won't let him for reasons that are very unclear. When Ty makes a preemptive strike against Davon from prison, Davon enlists the help of J.D. Williams, Bodie from The Wire, to exact revenge.

Unfortunately, casting alone could not save this piece of crap. The plot makes no sense, the characters are flat and when they start dying it is unclear how the viewer should feel about it. The dialog is terrible, which is the most disappointing thing of all. Typically, in these "urban" genre movies you can at least count on some hilarious dialog. Think the "Pen Gun Scene" from Thicker Than Water or the "What Hand You Roll Up Wit' Scene" from State Property or pretty much any scene from the hood classic Choices. The only relatively funny line is when Ty vents to his cellmate about Davon, complaining that Davon "aint from the block, the nigga is from Randallstown!" which is funny to me, but probably not anyone who has never heard of Randallstown (which is pretty much everyone not from Maryland).

Final Verdict:
From just looking the cast, the synopsis and the picture of the movie shown on Netflix, choosing to watch this movie is a no-brainer. I would decided to watch it sober. Actually enjoying the movie once it starts is a whole other story. To enjoy 4 Life, you need something a little stronger than the normal chronic and alcohol combination I typically recommend. To make it through this movie, I suggest at least 30 mils of an opioid painkiller or like 2 or 3 Ambien.