It is refreshing to find a TV series that actually has some discernible ending in the underlying storyline, particularly in this day and age where plots are as watered down as a martini in a dive bar and stretched out like nude, bronzed geriatrics on the Riviera – far longer than they should’ve been. I have often found myself silently wishing for an atomic explosion to conclude Tim Kring’s Heroes, or a quick yet violent shoot-out to hurry Prison Break to a final pointless end.
Dexter breaks the current unimaginative mold. Aside from the television series’ “groundbreaking twist,” there is an obvious depth to the story and characters, which is indicative of it having some root in the literary world. Based on the series of novels by Jeff Lindsay, it was adapted for the screen by James Manos, Jr., an Emmy award winner in his own right. It makes one almost want to take up reading again.
Michael C. Hall shines as Dexter’s psychopathic star. He is a rather brilliant portrayal of an empty shell, meshing the faked facade of common human frailty to a mere veneer to true intent. He finds empathy a foreign, awkward lump, purposely seeking the affections of a woman that is unlikely to encroach on his boundaries of unapproachability. His only pleasure is in the veiled justification of a vigilante killing, carefully collecting clues to prove the guilt of those untouchable by law – a directive from the cop that found him in a blood flooded cargo container, Harry Morgan.
Even the title sequence is imbued with the heavy hand of subtle mastery. “Splat!” goes the mosquito. “Sizzle!” goes the bacon. Who doesn’t hate mosquitoes? Who doesn’t like bacon? This poor fellow bleeds from a nick whilst shaving – he’s normal – he’s a guy just like me. The sequence ends as the door closes– off to work, smiling, harmless, good old Dexter.
Contrasting the everydayness of the opening sequence, you soon find yourself in the cool, calculating surrounds of Dexter’s murderous rationale – and the exhilaration is palpable. He is the werewolf waiting for the moon before letting his ravenous nature free to savagely cure the cancer that is killing society. It is this crusade that defines the moral acceptability of Dexter to his audience – our thirst for “justice.”
While the true morality of Dexter’s actions is questionable, it is not necessarily a major consideration in the realms of entertainment. Briskly rushing past the prickly point, one can happily amuse oneself with poor, good old Dexter’s conundrums in dealing with the blossoming yet unwanted intimacy of his relationship, the unwanted attentions of the untrusting, dogged Doakes, his fascination with his death art and finally, family. This all as we see the thin outline of normality bleed through the screen.
Definitely delightful Dexter.
Tags: Dexter, Michael C. Hall, TV
