‘The Wire’ in Five Scenes

From its premiere in June 2002 to its final episode in March 2008, “The Wire” told a sweeping story of crime, punishment and institutional disintegration in Baltimore. It was the components of that saga — the people, the moments — that made it unforgettable, scenes depicting the human consequences of civic collapse as well as the occasional hard-won triumph.

“David Simon always said: ‘Without that sliver of hope, nobody gets out of bed,’” Andre Royo, who played the addict Bubbles, recalled about the show’s creator.

In recent interviews, Royo and other stars of “The Wire” broke down some of its most pivotal scenes, one from each of the show’s five seasons. These are edited excerpts from those conversations.

Season 1, Episode 3

‘The king stay the king.’

Early on, “The Wire” laid out its thematic groundwork with a simple, elegant analogy: the game of chess as a model of “the game” writ large. Each piece has its role, fixed by rules it is powerless to change, or as the low-level drug boss D’Angelo Barksdale (Lawrence Gilliard Jr.) explains it to his young crew members Bodie (J.D. Williams) and Wallace (Michael B. Jordan): “The king stay the king. Everything stay who he is.” The sole exception is the pawns, if they can survive. Sadly, none of the pawns in this scene did.

LAWRENCE GILLIARD JR. I do play chess — I learned when I was young, growing up in Baltimore at my neighborhood Boys & Girls Club, and I was pretty good. I remember getting the script and being excited, because I thought the way [David Simon] crafted the scene was just super clever.

I remember also walking out into the Pit on the day that we shot the scene and seeing the chess board set up. It was hilarious — it just played so real. I grew up in a rowhouse about six blocks from the projects that the show was written about. This is something that some of the guys that I grew up with would do, play checkers on a chess set. So it just felt really natural.

I didn’t know the impact that scene would have, really — I was just thinking it’s going to be fun. And then, many years later, people still walk up to me on the street and they’re like, “The king stay the king.”

J.D. WILLIAMS All three of us — and this speaks to the presence of mind that was on set — we talked about how metaphorically it was a great scene. We broke down everything: how Wallace didn’t understand that there is no winning, it’s always war; how Bodie is trying to say he wants to survive; and how D’Angelo is trying to explain the rules, the way this person moves and that person moves.

GILLIARD D’Angelo’s a smart cat. He’s like, “This is how I can connect with these guys.” And that’s what he did.

WILLIAMS He’s trying to give them some knowledge so they can understand what’s really happening to them. But at the same time, they have to think: “Well, what piece would D’Angelo be? He’s kind of a pawn like us.”

There’s a simplicity in that scene that’s always going to resonate. Wherever you live, whether you play chess, whether you hustle drugs or you’re Black or white — anyone can understand that scene right away. The best things and the most relatable things are usually the simplest things.

GILLIARD Those stories had never been told in that way before. What do we know about drug dealers from watching television at that time? That they stand on the corner, they deal drugs, and they get busted by the cops. You’re the bad guy, and you’re going to go to jail, right?

But David Simon said: “No, these guys are human. They have lives. They do things like play chess in the middle of the Pit.” So it’s stuff like that — the little details, taking those characters and humanizing them, making them real people — that’s the genius of it for me.

Season 2, Episode 6

‘I got the shotgun. You got the briefcase.’

Among the many reasons Omar (played by Michael K. Williams, who died in September) became a fan favorite was his penchant for straight talk. He robbed drug dealers for a living; he couldn’t afford to mince words. After his lover is tortured and murdered by the Barksdale crew, he agrees to testify against one of its enforcers. With a stunning lack of self-awareness, the crew’s sleazy lawyer, Maurice Levy (Michael Kostroff), accuses him of “feeding off the violence and despair of the drug trade.” Omar sets him straight; the judge can only shrug.

MICHAEL KOSTROFF I’ve always said that one of my favorite things about “The Wire” is that it’s hard to identify the good guys and the bad guys — in most of the characters, we see both redeemable and irredeemable qualities.

But I played one of the few characters that we never saw the good side of. I got to show the ugliness of being completely unscrupulous.

There was something very satisfying in this scene about getting to play Maury as he gets a little bit of comeuppance. And there’s something about the outlaw nature of Omar — not only as a criminal, but also as somebody who just doesn’t follow any of the rules — that’s just so gratifying as a viewer to see. And also the fact that the character was gay … he just was Robin Hood. He lived by his own code.

That included not being afraid to call out hypocrisy. As he basically says: “We’re both getting rich off the drug trade. I’ve got the shotgun and you’ve got the briefcase, but it’s all the same game.” Fans always tell me that scene is their favorite, and I think it’s because somebody finally unmasked Levy for a second.

Whenever somebody famous dies, everyone I know posts pictures with them to sort of show that they knew them. The reality is that Michael K. Williams and I did not know each other well. But I will say that my observation of him was there was a great humility about Michael. He was one of the most gentle, gentlemanly, truly elegant souls you could meet — and such a wonderful artist. There was a tremendous gratitude for the opportunity to play this great, iconic character. He seemed just giddy over the opportunity to do his art.

Season 3, Episode 11

‘Us.’

“The Wire” began with police targeting the narcotics empire overseen by Avon Barksdale (Wood Harris) and his right hand, Stringer Bell (Idris Elba). Near the end of Season 3, that partnership has crumbled. By the time they share one last drink, each has secretly betrayed the other, and both are about to be removed from the game — Stringer gunned down, Avon sent to prison — as new players take their place.

WOOD HARRIS “The Wire” is like in basketball: You jumped over somebody and dunked a ball, and you didn’t know you jumped over the person. So when you’re filming — and I believe Idris would probably say the same thing — there’s too much focus on the moment to think about what the moment is doing. That moment, in this scene, is special: It is background on our characters, which lengthens their relationship. And then at the end, when we hug, you can see the cloud of betrayal looming and moving in.

As a spectator, you’re like: “This sucks. Y’all were great homies. Y’all overlooking the city, Batman-style. We love y’all.” And then we seal the deal with, “You’re my man, but I know you’re doing me wrong.” It’s tough even when I say it back to you — I get goose-bumps a little bit.

So many relationships people fell in love with: the Stringer-Avon relationship, the relationship between all of the underlings. It’s a special show, but I don’t think anyone thought that we’d be being interviewed about it 20 years later. Younger generations, they don’t take everything with them. They decide what goes on the trip into the future, and “The Wire” is part of that. It’s not going anywhere, which is just amazing, man.

Season 4, Episode 12

‘You gonna look out for me?’

Season 4, often called the show’s finest, followed four middle school friends on divergent paths, most of them heartbreaking. In one of the most wrenching scenes, Randy (Maestro Harrell) waits in the hospital after his foster mother has been badly burned in a firebombing resulting from Randy’s being branded a snitch. In mocking an earlier pledge by Carver (Seth Gilliam) — “We’re gonna look out for you on this” — Randy vocalizes how profoundly the children’s support systems have failed them.

MAESTRO HARRELL When we first started the show, the four of us really were teenagers growing up together — going to school together at the production office, going to set, doing everything together. So between me, Julito, Tristan and Jermaine [Julito McCullum, Tristan Mack Wilds and Jermaine Crawford], we were building that camaraderie that you see onscreen in real time.

In the other seasons, you see the decisions that the police make, that the politicians make. But ours shows you the trickle-down of it: That decision changes this, and changes this, and then now you have this 14-year-old on the corner. The show did a great job of shining a light on how we say, “The children are the future,” but are we really treating them as such? Generally speaking, we’re not.

Everyone’s let down Randy. He’s the voice of every kid who’s been in that situation.

When we were shooting that scene, it definitely was a heavy day. Everyone was extremely supportive; my mom was on set. We only did it maybe three, four times, but it was cool because everybody on set felt it. It was one of those things.

I don’t know, if I had to guess what happened to Randy, I think he ends up being a midlevel gangster. Randy is smart. Like, he could get a good job, start a business, anything. But I don’t think that happens for him — the same way I don’t think it happens for a lot of kids — because they’re put in these situations and it takes their joy, it takes their ingenuity, and it puts them in that place of: “Why even? Stuff don’t work out for me.”

You’re mentally defeated. And once that happens, there’s not really much else you can do.

Season 5, Episode 9

‘I left a trail of fire behind me.’

“The Wire” was never going to have a happy ending. But it did offer the possibility of personal redemption, most poignantly through Andre Royo’s character, Bubbles. In the series’s penultimate episode, he reflects upon his nascent recovery and the death of a homeless boy named Sherrod (Rashad Orange), an accidental result of Bubbles’ actions.

ANDRE ROYO When you get these monologues, the first thing that pops out for an actor is: “I got to kill it. I’m going to be dramatic.” You’re in your trailer directing yourself. Then I stepped outside my trailer, and I’m on the Baltimore block again. And I got these people that love and feel connected to Bubs, and they’d always be around me — they would give me tips, or they would tell me how their day was. So when I walked outside and I saw these guys, I realized, yo man, just do what you’ve been doing. Be Bubs.

I had lost a friend. I hadn’t thought about him in a long time, and all of a sudden, I’m doing this monologue and there he was, sitting in the front seat of the auditorium looking at me, like: “You need me, right? You need some tears; you need some emotion; I’m right here.” And I had a moment where I just was so happy and choked up, I guess, seeing him there, because it was the first time I was able to share my career, my life, my dreams with a buddy of mine.

The sad part is, [expletive] is still messed up. School systems are still messed up. Politicians are still [expletive]. “The Wire” wasn’t lying.

When the 20-year anniversary was coming, I looked at old cast photos, and it’s like I’m back in high school. I’m missing friends: Michael’s gone. I just lost Denise Francine Boyd Andrews, who helped create Bubbles — she was the one that allowed me to go into these dens and really talk to all these people.

It was a rough year for us. So we appreciate that people still talk about “The Wire” with love and respect.