The obvious reality is that The Wire was always more than another cop show; it was a study of a modern American city, and its institutions – both lawful and criminal – which perpetuate a cycle of inequality, violence, and corruption. The power of this commentary has only heightened over the last decade, and it continues to inform and incite debates around drug policy, policing, and race relations in the United States. More than thirty universities throughout the country now offer courses on The Wire, including in sociology, literature, law, criminal justice, public health and business. Indeed, it’s an influence which has not always been welcomed in the halls of power; Martin O’Malley, the former Mayor of Baltimore, is said to hate the series “with a taut fury,” and the city’s inhabits have often criticised the show’s grim depiction of their home.

The Wire was not the only series of its day to inspire such a strong reaction. It arrived as part of a much wider movement in American television, a “Golden Age” of cable drama in which shows were characterised by a creator-driven approach and complex, serialised narratives. It was in 1997 that HBO pioneered this new style of long-form storytelling with their prison drama Oz, the first hour-long television serial produced by a premium American cable network. Two years later, the seminal crime series The Sopranos perfected the format and sparked a revolution which has paved the way for everything from Six Feet Under to Game Of Thrones, House Of Cards, and The Crown.

Although The Wire was just one of many TV dramas to appear during this period, its achievements were entirely singular. The range of themes and richness of the characters featured were unlike anything else to be found at the time, or since. In chronicling the Baltimore underworld, David Simon shone a sympathetic light onto parts of society that were typically neglected by mainstream entertainment, and the complex reality was never softened with easy answers. It was nuanced, intricate storytelling defined by shades of grey rather than binary morality, unafraid to represent America as it exists, rather than how we imagine it on cinema screens. African American people, women, queer people, drug addicts, and drug dealers were all at the forefront of this Baltimore, and they refused to abide by any of the audience’s prejudices.

Indeed, looking specifically at The Wire’s depiction of queer characters of color, it becomes clear that the film industry is still catching up with what television achieved over a decade ago. In 2016, Barry Jenkins’ Oscar winning drama Moonlight was rightly praised for its complex dissection of black male identity and sexuality, but these were themes which had been already been explored by The Wire over a decade earlier. Omar Little, the gay stick-up man brilliantly portrayed by Michael K Williams, defied all preconceived notions of what a black criminal should look like on screen. On the other side of the law, Sonja Sohn starred as Kima Greggs, a lesbian narcotics detective who deals with prejudice and personal sacrifice both at home and in the workplace. When David Simon was asked why he chose to write these characters as gay, he simply replied, “Because gay people exist.”

In this way, The Wire provided an authentically rich and varied vision of identity in modern America, with people of color represented at every level of society, from politicians, to police officers, to schoolchildren. This year, while Hollywood congratulates itself for the success of blockbuster films starring people of colour, it’s worth remembering that cable television took the same risks long before it was considered profitable.