First The Wire, Then Treme:
From Baltimore to New Orleans

Release Date: April 11th, 2010—December 29th, 2013
Number of Seasons: 4
Number of Episodes: 36 (each approximately 60 minutes long) 
Created by: David Simon & Eric Overmyer
Starring: Wendell Pierce, Clarke Peters, Khandi Alexander, Steve Zahn, Rob Brown, Kim Dickens, Lucia Micarelli, Michiel Huisman, Melissa Leo, David Morse, Jon Seda, John Goodman, Steve Earle

Treme, the HBO series created by David Simon, takes its name from real life working-class neighbourhood Tremé, in the city of New Orleans, Louisiana. The story starts three months after the devastation of Hurricane Katrina and follows an ensemble cast of characters as they try to rebuild their homes and lives. It's Simon's follow-up to the mind-blowing series The Wire, which finished its original run in March 2008. The first episode of Treme aired two years later, and was somewhat overshadowed by the success of The Wire. Not that Treme wasn't critically acclaimed also, because it was—by the few who saw it. Many fans of The Wire haven't even heard of Treme, much less been motivated to watch it even if they had. And that's unfortunate, because it's outstanding in its own right. Many similarities between the two series abound, albeit significant differences as well.

The Wire, set in Baltimore, Maryland, features that city prominently, not only as a setting but almost as a character unto itself wherein the complicated social, economic, and political systems at play are examined in fascinating detail. Likewise Treme features New Orleans, although the focus is more on the arts and cultural communities and less on the political and law enforcement systems. While Treme is less overtly political than The Wire, both shows have a gritty, realistic tone, and neither shies away from depicting system corruption. The Wire, however, more so emphasizes that, with cynical, unflinching realism—showing the paradoxical cycle of a dysfunctional system that forces people to behave in corrupt ways in order to survive, thus perpetuating the corrupt system while simultaneously struggling to change it. While some Treme plotlines involve a crooked police department, opportunistic land developers, shady building contractors, and incompetent or corrupt politicians, it's the cultural scenes that take priority. This is fitting given the qualities of the two cities; Baltimore is twice the size of New Orleans and The Wire explores numerous aspects of the city as a whole, whereas Treme, as the title implies, centers more on that specific neighbourhood. Parts of the story occur in other locales within the city, and parts are set elsewhere—such as in New York and Texas—but the scope of Treme is overall smaller than The Wire. And this is a big part of its charm.

The "smallness" of Treme in contrast to The Wire allows a greater intimacy to develop between the characters, and with the audience. The Wire has dozens of characters who alternate from leading to supporting roles, and vice versa, with some disappearing altogether and new ones being introduced from season to season. But Treme has about ten main characters given approximately equal attention, with about as many supporting roles. Their lives intertwine in ways that communities of people likely do in real life; sometimes they're aware of the connections, of who knows who, and sometimes they're not. But we get to see it all. The arc of the story is not so much one of dramatic narrative escalation but rather an ongoing series of glimpses into a host of personalities who tread through various spheres of New Orleans culture, their lives entwining in unforeseen and sometimes tragic ways.

The communities depicted in Treme include: the culinary scene—restaurants, food. The different ethnic groups—Cajun, Creole, French, white, black, and combinations of. The Mardi Gras Indians, and their customs of dancing, chanting, marching, and costume-making. And—music. Virtually every conceivable form of American music is present here (even death metal) whether country, bluegrass, rockabilly, funk, hiphop, soul, and especially jazz—every subgenre of jazz imaginable. And numerous real life New Orleans musicians and other music legends appear as themselves throughout, including Kermit Ruffins, Trombone Shorty, Galactic, Lloyd Price, Irma Thomas, Fats Domino, John Boutté, Ron Carter, Dr. John, Elvis Costello, and others.

Some of the same actors from The Wire show up, and if you're a fan of that show it may take a moment to adapt to seeing them as different characters. But the actors are so good that before long we get to know and love these characters, flaws and all, so that it's next to impossible to imagine anyone else in these roles. And what great characters they are. There's not really one that's given much more focus than any other, although if I had to name a single standout protagonist (in the way that Dominic West as James McNulty could be interpreted as being the main protagonist of The Wire), I'd have to say it's Antoine Batiste (Wendell Pierce, who played Bunk Moreland in The Wire). He is, in his own words, "the seventh best trombone player in New Orleans". This claim reflects an essential aspect of Antoine's narrative throughout the series; he knows who he is, and the limits of his abilities, yet at the same time that he displays a hint of self-disparagement he maintains hope for something greater. He can play a variety of music styles, from funk to soul, rhythm and blues, and jazz—but he's not really considered to be one of the city's true jazz greats.

There are numerous other precious details that center around Antoine, such as his habit of shorting cab drivers on the fare and getting away with it. He claims that had they listened to him and taken the route that he suggested then the fare would only be fifteen dollars and not twenty, so he insists on only paying fifteen, despite the cabbies' protests. Later in the series, however, when he gets steady work, we see him generously tipping a driver who he's regularly shorted in the past, to the cabbie's surprise and appreciation. Details like this illustrate a lot about the show overall. As much as the city was devastated by Katrina, and the disinterest that political officials have shown in rebuilding it, there's a strong comradeship that emerges as well, between friends and strangers alike. Another great episode features Antoine going on a twenty-hour jamming spree, starting one night and going from gig to gig through the next day when he continues by joining the "second line", a New Orleans parade tradition in which a brass band marches behind the parade leaders. At the end of each jam he asks a fellow musician if they know of any other gigs going on next, and they tell him, while also expressing disbelief that he's still not going home to sleep—to which he replies, "Man, I'm a horn player!"

A character who is a successful jazz musician is Delmond Lambreaux (Rob Brown). An accomplished trumpet player, Delmond lives part-time in New York City, making a respected name for himself on the jazz scene. He and Antoine know each other, and play together from time to time, but it's clear that they're in different categories of musicianship. Delmond's father, Albert "Big Chief" Lambreaux, represents a key element of the city's culture as a Mardi Gras Indian Chief. He's well-respected in the community; noble, principled, and stubborn as hell. Albert spends countless hours hand-sewing ornate, showy, sequined, beaded and feathered costumes complete with massive headdresses, that he and members of his tribe wear during the Mardi Gras march. Making the costumes—new ones every year—is a long, elaborate process involving specific methods and materials. Additionally, Albert leads chants—call-and-response type singing and rapping—accompanied by hand-clapping, drums, tambourines and other shaker instruments. There's a tradition to these chants as well, and regular rehearsals are held. A different tribe and chief represent each area of the city, and they all compete to see who can "look the prettiest" when they make their Mardi Gras march. But it's a mutually respectful competition. Delmond participates in the Indian traditions with his father, but has his own life with music as well. The relationship between these two is compelling, as Delmond doesn't outwardly seek his father's approval since long being resigned to Albert's strict manner. But there's an ongoing push and pull between the two as Delmond continually strives to reconcile his career interests with Albert's old school ways. Albert is played by Clarke Peters, another familiar face from The Wire, who is the legendary character Lester Freamon on that show.

Another key character is LaDonna Batiste-Williams (Khandi Alexander), Antoine's ex-wife who owns and operates a bar in New Orleans. As a sturdy symbol of feminine strength and world-weary, streetwise attitude, Khandi Alexander nails this role. Antoine regularly visits her at the bar, delivering child support payments in cash, at which LaDonna rolls her eyes and scoffs as it's usually too little, too late. Antoine always has a story and a promise for more when he gets this or that steady gig that he has a lead on. The relationship is believable and comfortable despite the money tensions, hinting at a past between the two that we aren't given specific details of but can fill in ourselves. Their dynamic evolves as the series develops, and when Antoine forms his own band LaDonna even lets them play at her bar.

One of the most memorable characters is that of "DJ" Davis McAlary, played with exceptional kookiness by Steve Zahn. He's perfect for this role, and I don't know if it was written for him or if he's just that good of an actor, but he seems born to play this character. Primarily a part-time DJ on the city's local radio station and a goofy, pot-smoking scenester, Davis has played in bands before and still does on occasion, although he doesn't have a regular outfit. He seems to know everybody and has—or at some point gets—his hand into every social circle in the city, be it municipal politics, building development, tourism, the recording industry, and every music scene in town. He forms a small record company with his heavy drinkin', heavy smokin' Aunt Mimi (Elizabeth Ashley), initially to produce his own songs but later other artists as well. The music Davis writes is part tribute to local styles of the past and part parodic comedy, but it's not clear if he realizes he writes parody novelty songs or if he actually believes they are examples of great original music. Such is his charm as an innocent, man-child jester. Every word he says seems to be spoken in sarcasm—but it's not, he's just that weird. Zahn has played zany, likeable goofball characters like this before, but he really owns it here like never before.

DJ Davis's sometimes girlfriend is local renowned chef Janette Desautel (Kim Dickens). She owned and operated a restaurant before the storm and is struggling to rebuild it when the series opens. Through Janette, and supporting characters like her friend and loyal sous chef Jacques (Ntare Guma Mbaho Mwine), we get a glimpse into another famous aspect of New Orleans culture—the food. The ins and outs of the restaurant business and Louisiana culinary traditions are explored on numerous levels through Janette's narrative.

Annie Talarico (Lucia Micarelli) is the young fiddle player who represents the city's bluegrass, country, and folk music traditions. She's primarily a street busker with her boyfriend Sonny (Michiel Huisman) when the series opens, and it's clear from the start that she has more talent than he when it comes to music. Neither are native to New Orleans but moved there to explore its rich culture and music scene, like so many others. Annie quickly becomes a rising star while Sonny struggles with issues of addiction and self-worth. Micarelli is a real life fiddler, and as with many other musical sequences in the series, her performances are real. Country and folk musician Steve Earle (who also appeared in The Wire) has a mentoring role in Annie's narrative as a fellow street musician who takes her under his wing, while Sonny swears off of music for a while and goes to work on a fishing boat outside of the city.

Another aspect of New Orleans that is explored is the city's legal and law enforcement system. One of the central characters in this respect is civil rights lawyer Toni Bernette, played by veteran character actress Melissa Leo. She's relentless in her ongoing investigation of corruption within the New Orleans Police Department, discovering numerous citizens who were either outright murdered by the cops, who died due to police negligence, and/or were harassed and abused by the cops during and in the aftermath of the storm. Each case she investigates leads the audience through various levels of the city's legal system, from local police, to jails and the corrections department, and up to the FBI. This is the aspect of Treme that is most reminiscent of The Wire, as each level of law enforcement is shown attempting to doctor evidence and maintain the crooked status quo rather than actually solving crimes or helping people. There's not only a lack of support from the police, but also political officials at the city, state, and federal levels. They were irresponsible in their immediate response to Katrina and unresponsive in the aftermath, as the residents continuously ask for and clearly require assistance in rebuilding the city. One of Toni's connections in her investigations is Lieutenant Terry Colson, played by yet another veteran character actor, David Morse. Terry is, it appears, the only honest cop in all of New Orleans. Throughout the series the two fluctuate between being rivals of a sort to being allies and friends.

Rounding out the main cast is Jon Seda as Nelson Hidalgo, a land developer, building contractor, and venture capitalist who moves to New Orleans from Texas to capitalize on the post-Katrina renewal efforts. He's sleazy, opportunistic, and has political connections in various city officials and investors. But like most if not all of the characters on the show, he's not wholly bad, and proves that he can be a beneficial ally to have. This is a quality that The Wire has as well, of showing nearly every individual in a positive and negative light, perpetuating corrupt aspects of the system for their own benefit while alternately trying to manipulate it to help others. No one is fully innocent, and no one is fully to blame. In this respect, Treme is less grandiose, less ambitious than The Wire in its analysis of the modern American capitalist system. But it nonetheless has its profound moments. If The Wire might be said to be about the system, then it might appropriately be said that Treme is more about the people who live and work within it.

But the thing that really makes Treme special is the music. Every episode features numerous live performances with real life musicians, in a broad range of styles and genres. The settings are nightclubs, concert halls, recording studios, living rooms, street corners, and parades. And every season features the world famous, annual Mardi Gras festival. Not only is the range and quality of music spectacular, but it's made all the more interesting because we get to see the context from which the performances arise, get to know the characters who are performing, and understand what's at stake for them.

Television networks and internet streaming services like HBO, Showtime, and Netflix, and series like The Sopranos and The Wire have come to dominate popular culture, evolving to the point of quite possibly being the world's most powerful storytelling art form—supplanting films in this regard. They can be like the best movie multiplied by a hundred, since they have relaxed censorship standards and the time to get way deeper than any two hour-ish film. Creators and showrunners like David Chase of The Sopranos or David Simon have become like auteur filmmakers, where each new show may be compared to their earlier work, such as a writer's new novel may be compared to her previous one, or likewise a musician's new album, etc. I was a huge fan of The Wire, and continue to be a big fan of David Simon after watching Treme. I can't wait to watch his 2015 miniseries Show Me a Hero, starring the great Oscar Isaac.

I felt sad when Treme ended. Not just because this compelling and entertaining story was over, which I'd taken a few months to get through, but because I'd become attached to these characters and knew that I'd miss them as if they'd become good friends who I'd never see again. Theoretically, the episodes are there to revisit at any time, if I so desire. And I may just do that after a time. But the reality is that there are so many other intriguing shows out there awaiting my discovery that it'll likely be several years before I see the good folks of Treme again.
• Nik Dobrinsky / Boy Drinks Ink
February 24th, 2016