TV critic and former presidentBarack Obama cites Omar Littleas his favorite character fromThe Wire, calling him “fascinating,” and remarking on his combination of unusual qualities. He’s violent but moral, smart but trollish, openly gay, refers to himself in the third person, and carries a shotgun. A composite of multiple real-life figures, Omar makes a living by raiding the corners and stash houses controlled by criminal organizations like the Barksdales and later the Stanfields. His arrival in the first season ofThe Wireis a disruption of the already non-traditional battle between police and drug dealers. Created byDavid SimonandEd Burns,The Wirewas consciously written as HBO’s police procedural: no weekly cases and reliable convictions, no black-and-white morality. The titular wire, a phone tap, is only achieved by mountains of paperwork and backroom dealing, and it comes with a time limit. “Catching the bad guy” is simply not the priority for anyone but the most dedicated police, who are either exiled or well on their way.Over the course of five seasons, important lessons are imparted by storytellers channeling their frustrations with the institutions of a major city; it’s never subversion for subversion’s sake. And yet, that subversion has bite. Take the fate of Omar Little (Michael K. Williams), whose reign of terror is cut short by a little kid with a gun.
Just ahead of theGame of Thronesseries finale,Scientific Americanpublished a blog by Zeynep Tufekci, which differentiated between sociological and psychological storytelling. The idea, as it pertained to HBO’s fantasy epic, was that it started as the former before descending into the latter. A comparison is made toThe Wire, which never played favorites with characters. Tufecki writes, “One thing that’s striking aboutThe Wireis how one could understand all the characters, not just the good ones (and in fact, none of them were just good or bad).” From the first season onward, Omar was subordinate to the narrative, despite the larger-than-life personality and even his hand in influencing certain events. His introductory raid on the Barksdales is cool and suspenseful, yes, but it also leads to the torture and murder of his boyfriend Brandon (Michael Kevin Darnall), which in turn leads to the heartbreaking murder of a witness by his friends, which consequently inspires Barksdale lieutenant D’Angelo (Lawrence Gilliard Jr.) to flip on his family (spoiler alert: he doesn’t, but is killed in prison anyway). As Lester Freamon (Clarke Peters) famously says, “All the pieces matter,” as demonstrated by the vicious cause and effect of this world.
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What Led to Omar’s Death in ‘The Wire’?
After the first season, Omar becomes increasingly untethered to the police characters and even the Barksdales, pursuing his own agenda and contributing to a mythological status. He’s already heralded by so-called “corner boys” with panicked shouts of “Omar’s coming!” as he strolls down the street. Sometimes a bag of drugs falls out of a window for him, a preventative against violence. By the time he’s introduced, Omar has already done the impossible to achieve this reputation, so the moments we witness that legend come alive are gratifying — as well as the show at its most heightened. Maybe it’s a big shootout after a raid gone wrong, or that time he jumps off a building — described later as “Spider-Man shit” — or his Old West stand-off with a fellow killer (Michael Potts). “I admire a man with confidence,” Brother Mouzone tells him, gun trained. Omar responds with “I don’t see no sweat in your brow, neither, bro” as an actual train whistles by in the background. Together, these two plot an assassination that allows Omar revenge for Brandon more than a season after the fact.
Under the supervision of the wise Butchie (S. Robert Morgan), kingpin Proposition Joe (Robert F. Chew) sits down with Omar to clear the air, as Joe was known to associate with Brandon’s killers. He provides Omar intel on a lucrative card game, taking only a modest cut. It’s a curious arrangement that, in actuality, comes from Proposition Joe’s attempt to steer the sociopathic Marlo Stanfield (Jamie Hector) toward a co-op created to reduce the gun deaths and police attention. Marlo’s been sweeping through an otherwise united Baltimore like the plague, killing for territory. The idea is to prove that Marlo can be made vulnerable, therefore turning a cartel into an appealing, well, proposition. Omar bursts in on this card game and robs the players, Marlo among them. And so, just asStringer Bell (Idris Elba)and Avon Barksdale (Wood Harris) hunted Omar a few years earlier, Marlo puts a sizable bounty on his head, too. Unfortunately, he takes it a step further by sending his henchmen Chris (Gbenga Akinnagbe) and Snoop (Felicia Pearson) to kill Butchie. Omar, who was as far from Baltimore as he could be, is drawn back to the city for revenge.
How ‘The Wire’ Subverts Expectations With Omar’s Death
Taking the sociological storytelling aspect to a terminal point, it’s arguable thatThe Wiredoesn’t feature a single protagonist, or at least, it’s expansive enough that the protagonist could take an entire season off. No plot armor here, and so even if Omar’s on the warpath, blowing up SUVs to destroy Marlo’s money and executing old foes, he’s in danger. He took a bad fall off that building, and subsequently hobbles around the city. His allies are cut down in shootouts with Chris, Snoop, and new recruit Michael Lee (Tristan Wilds). And yet, seasoned television viewers know this only ends one way: the climactic showdown with Marlo that Omar has been shouting into the streets as a challenge — or so they think. Instead, it ends with the least likely suspect, Kenard (Thuliso Dingwall), a child who hangs around bigger kids and sells drugs for Marlo. Omar is in a convenience store doing what he always does, buying a “pack of Newport,” spoken with that Baltimore accent — “Newpote” — when he’s gunned down. Kenard, aiming the gun high, has a look of shock on his face as the clerk screams.
Part of the artistic success ofThe Wireis the no-frills presentation. There is no score, and the camera glides slowly through Baltimore like a patient observer. Formal contrivances need not apply when every gunshot cracks the air and reverberates, and bodies fall with a sickening gravity. Omar, too, collapses, and there’s no fanfare, no mourning. Life goes on. In fact, raw recruit Michael, now on the run from ex-employers who suspect him of being a snitch, has taken up a shotgun and steals from Marlo’s former “bank” with a witty comeback. He’s told, “You just a boy!” and his response? “That’s just a knee,” after shooting the guy in the kneecap. Omar’s death leaves a vacancy in an apparent ecological niche, and this is happening all over the city. On one hand, Leander Sydnor (Corey Parker Robinson) becomes the new Jimmy McNulty (Dominic West), on the other, Dukie (Jermaine Crawford) becomes the new Bubbles (Andre Royo).
Omar Little Leaves a Fascinating Legacy
For as shocking as it is, what’s profound about Omar’s death isn’t the death itself. Its frankness and anticlimax speak to the show’s larger preoccupation with how parts in an institution are interchangeable. For this television show that doubles as a civic lesson, it’s themes like this that help audiences reason out, for example, systemic issues over “bad apples.”The Wireis sociological in nature because it’s not a typical police procedural but an examination of something on a macro level. As such, even its most legendary character, animated bythe late Michael K. Williams’ deeply felt performance, is a footnote. Of course, he won the true victory in the end, as corner boys remember his name but don’t recognize Marlo, who valued street cred far more than a drug empire worth millions. And through Michael, his spirit lives on. In the world ofThe Wire, there will always beanOmar. In the real world, it’s similar but a little different: we’ll always have Omar.
