HBO broadcast the tenth and final episode of “The Wire’s” fifth and final season recently, bringing down the curtain on one of the top handful of television shows in the medium’s history.

“The Wire” was never a pop culture phenomenon like “The Sopranos.” Perhaps, as show creator David Simon speculated, because it features a lot of black faces.

“The Sopranos” is easier to follow, organized like a solar system with each character defined by his proximity to the hulking star that was Tony.

“The Wire” is a complex web, with each character defined not only by what he does but where in the city he does it. And an action by one person can affect others on that web whom he’s never met.

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Calling the show simply “Baltimore” would have been the best choice, but Simon’s love for the city and the fact that many important people didn’t appreciate how the city was portrayed on “Homicide: Life on the Streets” would have nixed that, if it even came up in the first place.

It’s lackluster title was the only thing not to like about the series. Until the final episode.

Ending a series in a way that’s satisfying, original and true to the show is difficult – just ask Jerry Seinfeld – but it can be done, as David Chase did with “The Sopranos.”

Whether or not Tony died, it’s clear his many loose ends of guilt, brutality, anger and regret will remain dangling.

“The Wire” always had more of those loose ends than “The Sopranos,” and was equally willing to let them hang, never giving the audience clean resolutions other shows conditioned viewers to expect.

That’s why the sentimental mock wake for recently fired Detective Jimmy McNulty seemed out of place. So did the closing montage, which offered too-neat wrap-ups for several complex characters.

But 10 subpar minutes aren’t worth quibbling about when weighed against dozens and dozens of hours in which the problems of the American city are depicted with staggering detail, richness and sympathy.

We repeatedly see big institutions try to impose top-down solutions that simply don’t work. Those who run City Hall, the schools, the police department, the unions, the media, social services and even drug empires simply don’t have the knowledge, or the integrity, to do right by their constituents, clients, employees and customers.

Individuals who think for themselves often must break the rules to be effective, and they often pay a high price. But they made some truly fascinating characters: The cerebral drug dealer Stringer Bell; cops McNulty, Lester Freamon, Cedric Daniels and Bunny Colvin; old school newspaperman Gus Haynes; and, of course, Omar Little, the honorable shotgun-wielding stickup man.

It’s not likely that even a show like “The Wire” could lead directly to consequential, real-world improvements. But one can’t help but think the show has opened a few eyes to the utter futility of the laughably named “war on drugs.”

“You can’t even call this s*** a war,” says one cop in an early episode. “Wars end.”

We’ve spent billions of dollars since President Nixon declared the war in 1969, and where are we?

More people use illegal drugs, which are better, cheaper and more available than 40 years ago. We’ve imprisoned thousands for mere possession. And just as with alcohol during Prohibition, we’ve created deadly criminal gangs.

The best way to fix all this is debatable, but if the world of “The Wire” is even close to being accurate, we need an exit strategy for this war too.

Aaron Keith Harris writes about politics, the media, pop culture and music and is a regular contributor to National Review Online and Bluegrass Unlimited. He can be reached at aaronkeithharris@gmail.com.