Sidemeat – 27th Slice
tv
Dexter (2006 – 2013)
A show that will go down in history as having one of the most polarizing endings of all time.
TV has changed drastically in the last few years. With the onset of the recession as well as emerging technologies like streaming, DVRs, and anything else that meant viewers didn’t have to be in front of the TV at a certain time to see their favorite shows, the industry was scrambling for money. So what did they do? They turned to reality shows which were way cheaper to produce. Luckily, some intelligent portion of the population was still out there, and suddenly we had these film-quality television shows popping up all over the place.
This sort of compelling television is quite commonplace nowadays, but back in 2006, Dexter was one of the first wave of shows that really pushed these quality shows forward. The premise was so high concept that it had to work – a serial killer who kills killers…and works for the police department! Of course the show was much more than that; it blatantly brings forth our culture’s fascination with violence, speaks to the disconnect and detachment that many of us feel from time to time, plays with our notions of nature versus nurture, and perhaps even makes some commentary on our culture’s handling and perception of mental illness. Besides all this, we had a very character driven show. Yes, each season had its own arc, but it often ran in parallel with Dexter’s own personal development. During much of the show’s run, the writers expertly layered these elements on top of one another, which of course makes for excellent repeat viewings.
I just finished watching all 8 seasons of it for the third time, catching a few little things here and there that I hadn’t noticed before and developing a more complete opinion of the show as a whole. One of the most confounding aspects of Dexter was “how do we root for the ‘bad guy’?” Is he really a bad guy at all? He’s a murderer for sure – a psychopath by his own admission – but he’s learned to channel this urge into something useful for society. The writers were smart – they gave Dexter “The Code,” and when Dexter followed the Code to the tee, it was hard to find fault with his brand of vigilantism. For instance, he had to make sure they were likely to do it again, he had to have indisputable proof that they’d already killed, he couldn’t go after just any criminal, they had to be killers, and so on.
Some viewers saw Dexter as just “taking out the trash,” while others believed that, as a murderer, he should be punished; it wasn’t his place to decide who lives and dies. And no matter what happened during the show’s 8-year run, it was a constant thought: what’s going to happen to Dexter? Traditionally, the “bad guys” don’t get away with their wrong doings. Even the good guys with morally damning deeds under their belt often pay some form of penance for their transgressions. The question was always “where is Dexter going to land?” and the developments throughout the show only served to confuse us further.
Dexter, the man, and Dexter, the show, changed immensely over the years, some would say unrealistically so, but it was an awesome journey even when it slipped and faltered at times. At a time when police procedurals dominated the non-reality TV landscape, Dexter gave us a version of CSI or Law and Order or Criminal Minds that was totally flipped on its head. Let’s take a few minutes to discuss what made Dexter such a landmark piece of television, how it changed and evolved, and where it all ended.
Season 1 – “The Ice Truck Killer”
Although Dexter was highly serialized, one of the more unique facets of the show as how each season was bookended and acted as its own story. The seasons weren’t exactly standalone pieces and the events of one affected the events of the next, but each season did contain a more immediate, plot-driven narrative.
Our first dose was delivered in the rocky, sometimes uneven, but always unique first season of Dexter where we’re introduced to Dexter himself: who he is, what he does, and some basic information on how he became the Dexter of today. The backstory was essential, and Dexter’s running narration always made for a quirky, comedic, and brutally honest manner of storytelling. We truly see these events through Dexter’s detached yet curious and confounded point of view. We also spend a great deal of time learning about his mask of sanity, his relationships with others at Miami Metro, and the other characters themselves: Deb, Angel, Vince, LaGuerta, and so on.
Perhaps carrying the weight of the introduction plus trying to introduce an intensely personal storyline is what keeps this season from feeling like a runaway success to me. Rarely are first seasons perfect as shows try to find their footing, and I think that the first season of Dexter firmly falls into that same boat. We get the story of Rudy / The Ice Truck Killer / Brian Moser / Dexter’s biological brother, which while meant to hold some serious weight, couldn’t affect the audience in the same way it would’ve if we’d known Dexter better at the time. The story is interesting, but it’s mostly a foil for Dexter’s troubled youth, and I find myself much less interested in The Ice Truck Killer himself and more vested in what parts of Dexter are revealed through his direct and indirect interaction with his like-minded brother.
Deb also got on my nerves a little bit, and Dexter wasn’t nearly as likable as he’d soon become. I was interested, but I wasn’t quite attached to him and wasn’t quite ready to root for him – I was actually a bit indifferent and had trouble developing a personal connection with any of the characters or situations. Fortunately, the second season would bridge the gap and give us less exposition and more action.
Season 2 – “The Bay Harbor Butcher”
I will admit that I was both surprised and impressed by how quickly the status quo was upset when Dexter’s dumping ground was uncovered. During his fight for survival, we get to know him on a more personal level, especially as we see his bond with Rita, Deb, and even Lilah deepen. He’s still his own special brand of monster, though we’re able to recognize and latch on to the humanity. It also becomes more apparent that, despite his “Dark Passenger,” he’s not necessarily proud of it and really does want to keep those he cares about from being dragged down due to his actions.
As Miami Metro and the FBI work at uncovering the identity of the Bay Harbor Butcher, Sgt. Doakes increasingly focuses on Dexter, who he’s always pegged as “off.” Meanwhile, Lilah is also getting under Dexter’s mask, though he finds himself drawn to her insight. There are so many fun twists and turns in this season from the humorous heroin addiction to exchanges between Dexter’s narration and Agent Lundy. As Doakes closes in though, we build to one of the most tense climaxes during of the entire show.
As Dexter keeps Doakes locked in the cabin, we’re all wondering just how things are going to turn out. Although framing Doakes seems like the best option for Dexter’s continued survival, it obviously causes some real conflict with Dexter’s code. With the noose tightening, it almost seems that Dexter is going to give himself up. However, we get what is probably the second biggest twist ending of the series involving crazy Lilah saving the dead. This odd stroke of luck combined with Doakes’ aggressive nature and Dexter’s willingness to turn himself in rather than frame Doakes really has the audience rooting for him by the end. And just when things are over, we see Dexter’s affection for Rita’s kids as he wraps up Lilah’s storyline.
Season 3 – “Miguel Prado”
Season 3 is another highlight of the series, in no small part due to the excellent performance of Jimmy Smitts as Assistant District Attorney Miguel Prado. A botched “routine” killing for Dexter quickly escalates, introducing Dexter and Prado, and eventually resulting in Prado knowing some of the truth behind who/what Dexter really is. It’s a sensible thread; the ADA, who deals with red tape all day long and watches criminals fall through the cracks is drawn to Dexter’s form of vigilantism. And so the two become friends of sorts, both inside and outside of “the kill room.” Miguel and his wife are also spending countless hours with Dexter and Rita like two “normal” couples hanging out.
Throughout all the seemingly mundane interaction between the two couples, we’re more or less happy for Dexter – happy that he’s found other people to relate to and share his life with – happy that he’s better able to function and enjoy everyday activities – happy that his mask of sanity doesn’t feel quite as cold, forced, and unfamiliar as it once did. Many of the season’s best moments are when Dexter and Prado are seen actually bonding, be it over killing or just plain golf.
The good times never last though, and it doesn’t take long to see that Prado’s inner beast has been unleashed. Dexter feels completely responsible for this, even obligated to protect those whom Prado might hurt, such as LaGuerta. The ending is a little on the bleak side, essentially reinforcing Dexter’s aloneness and inability to truly connect with another human due to his killing urges, though he also marries Rita in what would seem to be an affirmation of his growing humanity.
Season 3 is a bit more conventional it its approach, which is also part of what makes it work. Dexter is clearly defined as the protagonist and Prado the antagonist, so it’s easy for us to get behind the lesser of two evils. It also introduces what will become a recurring element of the series: Dexter finding “normalcy” only for it to end in tragedy.
Season 4 – “The Trinity Killer”
In many ways, Season 4 represents the climax of the entire show. Here we’re introduced to one of the ritualistic sorts of serial killers so often portrayed on other profiling/procedural shows. However, Lithgow gives one of the best guest performances of the show as Arthur Miller / The Trinity Killer. We find Dexter struggling with family life – his marriage to Rita, a pre-pubescent Astor, Cody, and new baby Harrison – all while trying to control and satiate his murderous urges. One of the strongest points of the fourth season is watching Dexter study Trinity and what it means to be a “functional serial killer” with a family and home life for so many years.
The premise here is really very interesting and relatable. Part of getting married, having kids, and starting a family is balancing who you are as an individual with your role in this new unit you’re a part of. Although most of us don’t have “serial killer” to contend with, there are other aspects of ourselves that become difficult to maintain while trying to fulfill our roles as spouses, parents, or both, and while the results are different, Dexter runs through that same gamut of emotions – again speaking to his growing humanity.
Trinity / Miller himself is an interesting individual and one of Dexter’s most worthy adversaries. The parallels between Dexter and Miller and their home lives become more evident as the season wears on and we watch a very human side of Dexter ponder what will become of his own future. The great irony here, of course, is that Trinity essentially destroys this prospective future for Dexter by murdering Rita. And boy, what a shocking twist that is. As Miller gives his resigned laugh of Dexter’s table, musing, “it’s already over,” even Dexter is thrown off, but finally does what he has been putting off for so long and dispatches the Trinity Killer. The biggest twist comes when Dexter returns home, ready to reaffirm his relationship with Rita, and finds her lifeless body in the bathtub with his newborn covered in blood nearby, mirroring his own childhood trauma.
Words can’t quite convey what an impact this event had on the series. I don’t think anyone saw it coming. We all knew that Miller had tracked down who Dexter really was and confronted him right there on the job at Miami Metro, but I think most of the audience took the scene at face value – Miller needed leverage, and discovering Dexter’s identity put them in a situation of mutually assured destruction. It’s not hard to see how he tracked down Rita after learning who Dexter really was, though that really didn’t seem to be the direction the season was headed.
There were a few other big scenes during Season 4 – Lundy’s return and death, Christine’s suicide, and Deb’s usual over-the-top neuroses kicking in at every turn – but most of it acted as little more than a build up to the last couple of episodes.
In a brilliant stint of writing, Dexter resolved to kill Miller when he decided that there was nothing he could learn from him and that there was no way Dexter would ever destroy those around him like Miller had. Just as Dexter cast off his self-doubt is when we find a deceased Rita, bringing Dexter right back to his fears of being the cause of all that is wrong: a note that the season would darkly end on.
I certainly didn’t like Rita’s death, but I did applaud the fact that the writers and producers were willing to let the show take a drastically different course and again upset the status quo. Removing the new-found family element from Dexter’s life was like hitting the reset button and allowing the show to go in whatever direction it wanted. I was as happy as anyone for Dexter’s happiness, his semblance of a normal life, and his comfort with that normalcy, but watching 20 years of Dexter being a family man slash serial killer wouldn’t have made for the most compelling entertainment. Plot contrivance? Maybe, but I chalk it up to part poetic license and part keeping with the show’s dark undertones by not letting us get too comfortable or too close to a happy ending. As a television show, this upset is exactly what was needed, and though it was a tough pill to swallow, it left me confident that the show still had a lot of life left.
Season 5 – “Lumen Pierce and Jordan Chase”
The crazy Season 4 finale had me all amped up for the plethora of directions that the show could take afterwards…unfortunately, there’s a noticeable overall decline in the quality of Dexter during Season 5 and onward. It’s still a good show, don’t get me wrong, but some of the nuance and originality is missing from the picture. There are still plenty of great episodes left and it’s well worth watching all of, but it seems like the writers didn’t quite know where to take Dexter next.
The fifth season sees Dexter deal with Rita’s death by helping a survivor of a brutal string of murders, Lumen Pierce. The season gets off to an achingly slow start, and when we’re first introduced to Julia Stiles as Lumen all she does is scream and cry…and scream…and cry. When she finally does get over the initial trauma, she plays Lumen as very stoic and wooden character in stark contrast to the previous emotional trainwreck. The season vaguely applies what worked from Season 3 and tries to give Dexter an apprentice of sorts, and I don’t know how to describe it, but the relationship between Dexter and Lumen was never convincing.
He helped her in order to atone for his part in Rita’s murder, and in return, Lumen saw him not as a monster, but as a savior, which is exactly how Dexter needed to feel after all the guilt over Rita’s death. There’s a great bit of subtext running throughout Season 5, I just don’t think it translated particularly well onscreen. I also found it sort of odd that Astor and Cody didn’t end up living with Dexter yet Harrison did (though I understand why, for the sake of believability) and that Dexter was more or less able to pass off Harrison for hours and hours at a time while he plotted with Lumen or hunted down Chase’s crew or prepped hotel rooms with plastic….I understand nurses and nannies and I understand that it’s common to many, many television shows, but it always bothered me a little, and it just gets worse as the series wears on. At least in Season 5 there is an incident with the babysitter where Dexter stays out too long and she refuses to come back, therefore throwing a wrench into Dexter’s plans.
The second half of the season really picks up steam as Miami Metro hones in on the string of murders and as Deb develops her “vigilante theory” about a survivor and an accomplice, mostly due to Dexter’s competing efforts with the police department while also attempting to be supportive to Deb. The final confrontation when Jordan’s corpse is found by Deb with Dexter and Lumen behind the curtain is a tense moment, but the idea of Deb’s discovery of Dexter is cut short as her sympathy for Lumen kicks in and she allows them to flee. It’s a fine moment, but it’s hard not to feel cheated when she’s so close to seeing who Dexter really is yet walks away.
We also have Quinn who takes on the role of a “new Doakes” during the season, choosing to investigate Dexter during his own time. Thankfully the plot never really goes anywhere and Dexter quells the threat rather quickly and cleanly, which also left me wondering why it was ever written into the story in the first place. I know it was somewhat to show that Quinn’s feelings for Deb overrode his suspicions around Dexter, but it was still a repetitive plotline with a virtually pointless outcome, other than for Dexter to have Quinn’s back because of Deb’s feelings for him. I guess that was the point of it all, but it felt like a major distraction.
This is also the season where Miami Metro in general takes a backseat to Dexter and Deb. Previously the other detectives had been integral parts of the story, yet now it seems that Dexter can just pull the wool over their eyes whenever he needs to and expertly manipulates the police to fit his agenda. He used to be devoted to catching those who fell through the cracks but now assumes a more active role in his pursuit of justice that had begun in the previous season with his concealment of the Trinity Killer. It was a shame to see characters like Angel and Vince fade into the background, especially after all the development that had been pumped into them in previous seasons. Suddenly the rest of Miami Metro’s homicide unit were stunted in their characterization and the actual scenes with the police began to feel more and more like filler.
A bad season? Not really, but it was a little underwhelming and a little too drawn out for its own good. It certainly represented a strange lack of intensity for a season following up the surprising nature of Rita’s death; I would’ve preferred to see a sort of “Dexter unhinged” (which we get for about 2 minutes in a bathroom where he kills a random guy) rather than “Dexter repentant,” but I suppose the writers didn’t want to stick him in any situations that were too irredeemable. Lumen fulfills her role and exists stage left at the season’s conclusion, her own “Dark Passenger” having been assuaged by killing the men responsible for her suffering….not that the show needed a new character (especially Stiles), but for once we had a season that felt like it wrapped up a little too nice and neat.
Season 6 – “The Doomsday Killer”
It was tough to anticipate what the sixth season might have in store after the odd and almost tangential fifth season. Sadly, we got what might’ve been the weakest season of all. Borrowing elements from Season 1 (elaborate murders and crime scenes rivaling those of the Ice Truck Killer), it seems that Season 6 tries to get back to a simpler time in the history of Dexter, preferring to focus more on his detective abilities (rather than the police) and redundantly re-examine Dexter’s dark side, all the while desperately trying to bring some relevance back to the rest of Miami Metro’s homicide division.
The plight of the Doomsday Killer is surprisingly lifeless, leaving the writers to pad out the season with numerous inconsequential plotlines. Deb is promoted, breaks with with Quinn, Quinn goes on a prolonged binge; Jaime, Angel’s sister, becomes Dexter’s excuse to have a toddler yet come and go as he pleases, even overnight…er, I mean, Jaime, Angel’s sister, become’s Harrison’s babysitter; Dexter visits Jonah, Arthur Miller’s son in what starts out as an interesting sidestep but quickly fizzles out into something totally pointless to fill up an episode’s running time; a new, semi-sketchy Louis is introduced as a forensic guy; and Dexter develops an interesting friendship with a reformed killer, Brother Sam.
Most of this is as insignificant as it sounds, though I really believed that something was going to come of Dexter’s insightful conversations with Brother Sam. I though Brother Sam would end up imparting some profound wisdom upon Dexter about living with the darkness, but in a total misstep by the writers, Brother Sam is killed off before he can become of any real use or importance. The plot then shifts to the rather boring Doomsday Killer in earnest, which really doesn’t do much for the already slack momentum of the season.
We’re soon presented with the revelation that the Doomsday Killer is not the mentor and apprentice relationship that we’ve been led to believe, but instead, an unbalanced apprentice who imagines his dead mentor is forcing his hand. This isn’t nearly as startling or shocking as its meant to be, mostly because the Doomsday Killer isn’t very interesting (despite the gruesome “tableau” murders and apocalyptic themes) nor do they act as a foil for Dexter in the way that other guest characters such as Miguel, Arthur, and Lumen have. Olmos musters up a few creepy scenes as the fabricated Gellar and Colin Hanks seems genuinely troubled and conflicted at times as Travis Marshall, but in the end Olmos and Hanks don’t have any engaging chemistry, Olmos comes across as both bored and boring, and Hanks has a difficult time bringing his character to life, even during the more human moments he shares with Dexter and his sister.
As if in a deliberate effort to up the stakes, Travis Marshall (the lone and actual Doomsday Killer) targets a young Harrison, attempting to enact his final tableau. Using Dexter’s emotion against him, he almost gets the upper hand. Mild suspense ensues for an episode, but as usual Dexter is not to be outsmarted and soon regains control of the situation, putting down Travis in his preferred manner. Then comes the real shocker. Well, a couple of real shockers.
The first involves a really bizarre and awkward moment between Deb and a shrink she’s been seeing as part of the fallout from a witness being murdered in front of her during a raid. These sessions plod along uneventfully over the course of a few episodes (seriously, I know Deb has a lot of legitimate baggage, but her neurotic nature is almost too much to bear…and it gets worse…) eventually arriving at the subject of Deb’s love life. A few moments of psychobabble later, Deb and her therapist arrive at the conclusion that…the reason Deb’s relationships have never worked out is because….she’s in love with Dexter.
There is so much to be said about this moment. Where did it come from? Why did the writers start down this path? Where were there ever any signs during the previous 70+ episodes that Deb is in love with Dexter? Yeah yeah, so he’s her adopted brother, I get it, but the idea is still icky, and if you’re going to bring up something random and weird, there better be a damn good reason for it. Why the hell did this development develop? Beats me. The only thing I can come up with is that just maybe the writers wanted to throw out a serious red herring before the season’s even bigger surprise…
The final moments almost justify the lukewarm Season 6; Deb, on a mission to confess her love to Dexter, catches Dexter just as he plunges the knife into Travis. It’s a huge moment for the series: not quite as shocking as Rita’s death and not nearly as fateful as Doakes’ demise, but carrying with it an infinite gravity. It quickly gets the sour taste of Season 6 out of our mouths with all the appropriate questions – What will Deb do? What will Dexter do? – plus a multitude of others that speak to each viewer’s individual interpretations and expectations for the show’s direction. Basically, whatever you thought of Dexter is completely up in the air after this moment.
Season 7 – “Hannah McKay”
Ah, Season 7, the beginning of the end. Although the seventh and eighth seasons have discrete boundaries, there is also a larger arc presiding over the two. Rather than any one long story, this season unfolds more like a series of vignettes, one leading into the other. It kicks off first with the question on everyone’s mind – what happens now that Deb has seen Dexter kill!?
Dexter does his best to convince Deb that it was a one time thing and that all the little things that make it appear to be a planned event are just the result of Dexter’s forensic knowledge. Initially conflicted (especially since she’s now full blown Lieutenant), she decides to help Dexter cover up the murder. However, she doesn’t readily accept Dexter’s explanations and keeps pushing at the issue. By the end of the first episode, she’s rummaged through Dexter’s place and found his blood slide trophies (among other things) and pops the big question: “are you…a…serial killer?” With a countenance of relief, Dexter replies in the affirmative.
It would’ve been really easy for the writers to draw this out for the entire season, having Deb investigate one aspect or another of the crime scene, trying desperately to believe what Dexter tells her even in the face of contrary evidence…there’s a great deal of suspense to be mined from the situation, but the show wastes no time in getting to the point. I enjoyed how quickly Deb finds out the truth; I wasn’t looking forward to a season of suspicious and denial-wrought Deb, plus we get more time to focus on the aftermath.
As expected, Deb’s high ranking position within Miami Metro makes Dexter’s truth all the more significant. She swings back and forth between disgust and what could almost be called pity, with just a dash of intrigue; her early life is colored much differently with this information taken into account. It’s something that needed to happen for a while now, and although I think the show gets a little too bogged down with Deb’s inability to understand Dexter’s need to kill, I can at least appreciate that the situation wasn’t handled lightly. It has a huge impact on both Dexter’s and Deb’s actions throughout the season.
Otherwise we’re introduced to Hannah McKay, a woman who’s been involved in a number of questionable deaths. Though she starts off as another victim of Dexter, she quickly becomes more than that as Dexter finds himself drawn to her for inexplicable reasons. He eventually reveals himself to her, and although she admits to some wrongdoings of her own, we can quickly see that there are some major trust issues at play. Deb is also seeking Hannah for her involvement in a murder, and we’re soon drawn into a situation where Deb protects Dexter, Dexter protects Hannah, Deb does her best to catch Hannah, and Dexter works to mediate the malcontent between the two. It’s probably the most interpersonal Dexter has ever gotten.
Deb tries unsuccessfully to treat Dexter as if he were a drug addict, only addicted to killing instead of a certain substance. I’m glad this doesn’t last long, because it’s really annoying. There’s also lots of other weird incidental stuff happening, like Angel buys a restaurant and Louis turns out to be a total freak. And there’s the secondary, action-centric narrative surrounding a high ranking member of the Ukranian mob who’s out to kill Dexter; this being after Dexter killed the mobster’s lover after the lover murdered Mike, one of the newer detectives on the force. I guess Mike’s murder was supposed to mean something, and although I think he was a good guy and deserved more of a story on the show, it was the wrong cop to kill off. It made both his introduction and exit feel utterly pointless.
Besides Dexter, Deb, and Hannah, the other character worth watching this season was the long-forgotten LaGuerta. Yeah, Miguel almost offed her, she married Angel, her and Matthews played a long, boring, and largely insignificant game of political chess….but now, she gets a front row seat in the Dextocalypse. Finding a blood slide at the scene of Travis Marshall’s “suicide” (Dexter inadvertently forgot it when Deb walked in on him) and armed with the belief that Doakes couldn’t have been the Bay Harbor Butcher, she sets out to uncover the truth. This would be the straw that ultimately broke the proverbial camel’s back, and I find myself having a real problem with it.
Was Dexter really so caught off guard that he forgot all about the blood slide? He’s always been so meticulous, not even so much as a hair or fiber left behind, and here he forgets the thing that means the most to him: his trophy? I could understand a momentary lapse, but he and Deb were at the church for a while. Dexter staged the crime scene, Deb went and got gasoline, they got their stories straight about what happened…all that time and Dexter never said, “hey, where’d I put that trophy?” I think that the event is really uncharacteristic and it feels a little too much like it was thrown in for the sake of the plot. I mean maybe I could buy that he left behind an incidental piece of evidence due to the stress of Deb catching him, but walking out of there without his trophy? Not in a million years. I’ve always felt that this mistake didn’t stay true to the show or who Dexter was in the slightest. But without it, we wouldn’t really have the Seasons 7 and 8 that we had. It’s an easy thing to overlook and easy to say, “oh everyone makes mistakes, even serial killers,” but by the second time I sat through the series I just couldn’t fathom Dexter being that forgetful and careless, and during my most recent third viewing, all I could think was, “it’s your goddamn trophy!? How can you possibly be unaware of where it is!?”
Anyway, back to LaGuerta and the hunt…she starts making progress fairly quickly, but Dexter, always three steps ahead (except when he forgot the damn blood slide) has done the perfect job of posthumously framing Doakes. It seems open and shut to everyone…except LaGuerta. Pretty soon Deb is in on LaGuerta’s suspicions, and we get to see even more inner turmoil as she wrestles with her choice to protect Dexter.
Eventually LaGuerta latches on to Dexter, mainly due to Doakes’ own suspicions, and starts putting the pieces together. In a brilliant setup move, she lures Dexter to a kill by freeing one of the men who murdered Dexter’s biological mother. Dexter realizes his error in a nick of time, and counters LaGuerta with an even more brilliant move that makes her look like she’s trying to frame Dexter. Of course this removes any doubt from LaGuerta’s mind, but it was such a great plan that it makes it impossible for her to pursue him without looking totally insane.
However, LaGuerta isn’t giving up. Fearing an investigation not only for his own sake but also because of what Deb knows, Dexter resolves to do what he must for survival, even if it means breaking his code. He succeeds in trapping and tranquilizing her, and it’s about then that Deb figures out what he’s up to, showing up with gun drawn. In a tense moment where LaGuerta pleads with Deb to shoot Dexter and Dexter doesn’t disagree, Deb does what none of us quite thought she would: fatally shoots LaGuerta. Now we all know that LaGuerta had to die for Dexter to continue doing what he does, yet it didn’t seem right for Dexter to kill an innocent. It seemed even less likely for Deb to do it; then again another Doakes-like miracle seemed unlikely as well. Faced with such a choice, it seemed that almost anything was possible (except for Dexter biting the dust) in the moment.
Elsewhere in the season we have Dexter and Hannah falling in love, and as a result, Deb ends up confessing to Dexter what she had come to tell him that night at the church. The moment is just as strange as anyone could’ve imagined, and much like the first time it came up, it never really goes anywhere and it isn’t really mentioned again. Certainly the revelation of what Dexter truly was could’ve easily negated Deb’s feelings, but even if they did, I can’t really figure out why this was ever an issue to begin with. Nothing really changes because of it, though perhaps it explains why she does such a great job of protecting Dexter at the expense of her own integrity and at great peril to herself, both personally and professionally.
I suppose that the Hannah and Dexter love story is supposed to be sweet in its own way, but like Dexter, I never really trusted Hannah. She was, after all, a poisoner, and she was never completely honest about her past at any single given time. Finally though, she poisoned Deb, and I was glad to see that Dexter chose his sister over Hannah by essentially turning Hannah in. It cheapened what little of a love story actually existed, but it kept Dexter and Deb grounded in the reality that the show had created, and much in the way that Dexter gave Deb what she wanted even though he didn’t want to (evidence linking Hannah to the murder of Sal Price, the crime writer (though she quickly escaped custody)), Deb reciprocated by giving Dexter something: a world without LaGuerta on their heels.
Season 7 is a bit of mess and it doesn’t quite have the neat story strung out like past seasons, but it gets in gear for where the show is headed next. This is both a strength and a weakness of the season. It’s hard to say “this season is about this,” and instead it’s more like, “yeah, the season with the Ukranians…and Hannah…and LaGuerta with the blood slide…” It’s not one of my favorites, but that’s mainly due to the events surrounding Dexter. Him swooning over Hannah – who’s portrayed as far from likable – makes him appear weak, not in control, and even foolish for the first time in the series and these are not weaknesses that make his character more compelling. Dexter’s dry humor arisen from his cynical and detached viewpoint along with his calculating nature and his excellent judgement are the traits that have made him so fun to watch. Without them, he comes off a bit like an awkward teenager who isn’t even a teenager – making him even more awkward. All of his mushy stuff with Hannah was tough to watch, but at least he ended the season in full survival mode, 100% ready to murder LaGuerta.
Season 8 – “The Brain Surgeon”
Season 8 picks up where Season 7 left off, though some significant period of time has passed between LaGuerta’s death and where our season starts. Dexter seems to be back to his “normal” self so to speak, yet Deb has been wracked with guilt over her role in LaGuerta’s murder. Having left Miami Metro to pursue work in the private sector, she appears to have lost herself in her work, becoming more and more unhinged and inexorably repulsed by Dexter and what her connection to him has “forced” her to do.
In some ways, Season 8 feels like a whole different show. Season 7 may have been a little offbeat for what we’re used to, but it was undeniably Dexter. Season 8 throws an inordinate amount of material at the viewer, including revelations from the past, prospects for a vastly different future, and a whole slew of characters with wildly differing agendas. It’s a little tough to digest, so where do we start?
I guess we’ll first touch on Dr. Vogel, a strange matriarchal figure for Dexter. After encountering a murder from this season’s “Big Bad,” “The Brain Surgeon,” psychopath expert Dr. Vogel shows up to assist Miami Metro. It turns out that Harry, Dexter’s adoptive father, went to her for help during Dexter’s childhood and Vogel was largely responsible for Harry’s attempts to channel Dexter’s psychopathy into something constructive for society. As she marvels at her creation, it’s hard to trust her; she has a strange sort of admiration for psychopaths yet is simultaneously puzzled by what Dexter has become, specifically owing to his familial love for Deb.
Although her place in the story is a little murky, Vogel ultimately brings Dexter and Deb back into each other’s lives. At one point Dexter even brings the two of them out on his boat as he disposes of a body, remarking that he “felt like being with family.” It’s a bit odd to be sure, but I almost find myself wishing this dark little unit had been explored a little further. It felt as appropriate as anything during these last couple of seasons, even if Vogel was still something of a wild card.
Through a rather contrived series of events, Dexter also ends up reuniting with Hannah. Though their meeting is at first strained, they quickly return to their adamant love for each other, prompting Dexter to start a new life with Hannah and Harrison far away from Miami. They both seem genuine enough in their desire, though I was still never sold on Hannah’s honesty, which Dexter now seems more than willing to blindly accept. The two begin making preparations for their departure in earnest.
But wait! As a footnote to Season 8, we also have the teenaged psychopath Zach! What starts off as a target for Dexter quickly morphs into a short-lived protege. I sort of liked the idea of Zach and Hannah and Dexter sailing off into the sunset to kill bad guys (well, for a minute or two I entertained the possibility) but I guess Zach was just another red herring. Just about the time Dexter and Zach are starting to hit their stride, he’s murdered. It’s Brother Sam all over again, sort of.
Meanwhile the Brain Surgeon is still terrorizing Miami, though at this point it seems like a throwaway point. We’re never really given any reason to care about the outcome. It all ends up tying into Vogel’s arrival though, so I guess the writers were intent on seeing it through and stretching it throughout the entire season. We find out that the Brain Surgeon is really Vogel’s son. Then we find out that – gasp – she knows and is trying to help him, despite Vogel first approaching Dexter to both protect her from and discover the identity of the Brain Surgeon in the first place. It’s all more tangled that it needs or deserves to be at this point. Even Vogel’s betrayal doesn’t mean much, because she turns around and betrays Saxon (her estranged son / The Brain Surgeon) as soon as Dexter shows her the video of Saxon murdering Zach. Wow, it’s a mouthful even typing all of this out, and funnily enough it doesn’t really matter. Much of this has very little bearing on the plot, other than the send off that Vogel gets: murdered by her own son right in front of Dexter.
Next up we’ve got Deb’s former boss from her time in the private sector who’s teamed up a US Marshall to collect the bounty on Hannah’s head, who they suspect might be in Miami. These two turn out to be little more than annoying gnats buzzing around the viewers head near the end of the season. They never really get anything done, just enough to prevent Dexter and Hannah from running off for another day or two.
With things between Dexter and Deb patched up, Dexter continues putting his affairs in order in preparation for leaving the country. It is during some of this activity where he actively muses that, throughout the years, this mask of sanity and normalcy has become who he is, that his “eyes have adjusted” to the light, and begins to fully accept and embrace his humanity for perhaps the first time ever. Does this mean he’s cured? We don’t really know just yet, but he does eventually resolve to kill Saxon before departing. However, just as he’s ready to do the deed, he states aloud that for the first time there’s somewhere else he’d rather be, implying that the darkness has left him, or at the very least there is something that is finally more important. He leaves Saxon for the police to find, and ironically, this very human act ends up destroying him for good.
Long story short, Deb finds Saxon, Saxon shoots Deb, Saxon gets away though is soon re-apprehended. Deb’s wound is bad but the doctors are optimistic. Suddenly complications arise that put Deb in coma. The doctor soon delivers the crushing news that Deb will probably never wake up and even if she does most of her higher order brain function will be lost. Dexter sends Harrison with Hannah to go ahead and get out of the country and he’ll be right behind them. Upon learning of Deb’s tragedy though, I guess something inside of him snaps, as he quietly resolves to kill Saxon and protect those he loves from himself. Taking Deb’s vegetable status as confirmation that he destroys all that he loves and admitting as much to a jailed Saxon, he quietly kills him in a manner befitting self-defense, and then sets off into the oncoming hurricane with a now deceased Deb in tow. (Not wanting her to live in a vegetative coma, he turns off her life support and whisks her body out of the hospital during the evacuation chaos.)
After that, Dexter sets off into the storm with a firey determination, and the next scene that the wreckage of a forensic’s tech boat was found with no signs of life. Hannah, with Harrison and presumably safe from the reach of the law, reads the same headline in a newspaper and calmly composes herself as she leads Harrison off for ice cream. I will admit that Dexter’s sappy good bye and his fierceness in wanting to protect his lover and child from the monster inside of him was a little touching and actually had me rooting for Dexter and Hannah for a moment, but I never really understood why he felt that way. Yes, Deb was dead (or close enough at least) and yes it had something to do with Dexter’s actions, but it was really Dexter’s humanity that cost Deb her life and not his Dark Passenger.
I’m really quite perplexed why he couldn’t (or wouldn’t) accept this fact and why he still thought of himself as a monster. I thought the whole point of him leaving with Hannah is because he had finally found something that transcended his darkness, not just another means by which to conceal it or live in half-truths like he did with Rita. His status as a serial killer has been pretty well known to those around him for sometime – Deb, LaGuerta, Hannah, Vogel, Zach – and while the life he has chosen because he’s a serial killer may have gotten these individuals tangled up with death, he wasn’t directly responsible. And that’s precisely what he was willing and ready to leave behind. I thought the whole point was to seek out something new and different, yet he remains utterly convinced that it’ll all be exactly the same. It doesn’t make sense to me, and I don’t think it ever really will.
The End
Finally, we get one last scene after Dexter’s supposed death. The screen cuts to a lumber yard, somewhere obviously much higher in latitude than Miami, where the camera solemnly follows Dexter finishing up a day at work, retreating to small, spartan cabin, sporting a beard and a somewhat gaunt face with a pale complexion. He is eeriely laconic as he walks into this new home and shuts the door, finally taking a seat at an empty desk, before slowing raising his eyes to the camera in an expression that could mean anything from abject defeat to unfettered rage.
So, Dexter faked his own death to remove himself from the lives he hoped desperately not to destroy, but what I think is really interesting is that his death was indeed faked. He didn’t set off to kill himself. As much as he wanted to help those he loved, he didn’t want to end his life completely. The real question becomes what is it that he wanted to continue living for? If he was going to abandoned those he loved out of fear for their safety, what was left for him after that? More killing? No killing? Perhaps another shot at a normal life one day? Will the cycle repeat, or will he live out the rest of his life in solitude?
This ending has been one of the most divisive in TV’s history. Some think Dexter got what he deserved for his sins, while others believe he got off too easy. Others are unhappy with the ending’s ambiguity or the fact that he abandoned his son. Still, some believe it was “perfect,” although their reasons are less clear. Let’s look at the alternatives for a minute: a) Dexter dies; b) Dexter is imprisoned; c) Dexter ends up with Hannah and Harrison; d) it was all a dream. I think we all knew, deep down, that a happy ending wasn’t in the cards for Dexter. At least he didn’t end up in Argentina (or wherever) by his own choosing, and it wasn’t some stupid twist of fate that got in the way. Had he actually died, I think the least demanding audiences would at least feel a sense of closure, but death wouldn’t really have fit in with the show’s tone any more than a happy ending would have. If Dexter is anything it’s a survivor, though I could see some possibilities where he may have decided to end his own life or sacrifice it for some greater good…but that’s a little too cheesy for Dexter’s universe as well.
Then there’s prison, which would’ve seen Dexter essentially pay for his crimes. I certainly think he’s paid for his wrongdoings by now, and Dexter tried to do as much right with his wrong as possible. This was a show with a very unconventional moral compass, and I don’t think a rudimentary crime and punishment scenario would’ve been very satisfying for anyone. Finally, it could’ve all been a dream or any number of similar tricks: a delusion, a fantasy, a work of fiction, or perhaps there was a split in the show where the “real” ended and the fantasy began….I like to think Dexter was above this sort of narrative trickery. Dexter never attempted to manipulate the viewer through its medium, and to do so now would feel like a cop-out….pretty much the same way it feels when every other show does it.
Ok, so the clear alternative here might not be a lumber yard and what appears to be self-imposed exile, but it works with where the show has gone thus far. Looking back at Season 1, think carefully about Dexter’s progression throughout the series. He started off very cold and calculating, confused and amused the the emotions and interactions of “mere humans.” Yet he was an effective killer – and not just any killer, but a killer who took out other killers who fell through the cracks, going to great lengths to assure that he never killed an innocent. It may not be a noble profession, but if he’s going to be out there killing anyway, it seems reasonable, right?
As the show goes on, Dexter begins to assemble all the parts of a human. In doing so, he becomes a more complete being, but what happens to his life as a serial killer? He becomes less efficient. Innocents end up in the crossfire. As the line between his real self and his mask begins to blur, he draws others in and is forced to go to great lengths to protect himself. The more that he absorbs of the human world, the more that his Dark Passenger absorbs as well. Though the entire run of Dexter can certainly be seen as one psychopaths journey to becoming “a real boy,” one can also look at it another way: the serial killer who tried so hard to be something he wasn’t that he ended up dragging almost everyone around him down. The deaths of innocents pile up as the seasons pass; Dexter’s closeness with other people causes them pain as he deals with his double life. Another way to look at Dexter is to see a highly ordered system descend into utter chaos.
In this regard, I think this bleak ending has a place. If we look at what truly happens throughout the show’s run in an objective manner instead of following Dexter’s personal growth, we have a much sadder story on our hands, and what could be worse than ending up completely alone? What could be worse than trying so hard to be like everyone else and ending up causing so much pain and strife because of it? What could be worse than deciding to finally open up and learning how to love only to have those things ripped away from you because you learned to love? It is the lowest low, rock bottom, the end of a long descent. Perhaps even his Dark Passenger has left him, leaving him really, really alone.
Oh but what were those eyes saying in that last shot? Why was he breaking the fourth wall? Why were those few seconds as uncomfortable and unnerving as anything else in Dexter? What do we take away from that look?! It’s a question I can’t answer, but I do think there’s a perfect answer for it out there. There’s a reason Dexter didn’t just kill himself. There’s a reason he wants to be alive, and like with all things Dexter, there’s a reason he’s at that lumber yard. At first I wanted to say that it was a look of resignation, surrender, acceptance. But it’s not. Something drives him forward, and for once, I don’t believe it to be the Dark Passenger, but there is something oh so slightly sinister in that final glance.
Dexter 2 … ?
It seems that at least one of the motivating factors behind making sure that Dexter survived Dexter was Showtime’s desire to make another show with these characters. Strangely enough, Showtime does not want the new show to be a continuation of the old one. How that’s supposed to work is anyone’s best guess, though I do think it’d be pretty cool if a new show picked up right there in the lumber yard.
In the end, I wholeheartedly believe that Dexter will be remembered as one of the giant of early twenty first century television. What was it that made it so great? A lot of things went into making Dexter what it was, but at the end of the day it was really the writers who led the charge. They expertly crafted a show about a serial killer that, although asking us to empathize with him, never downplayed his actions and never shied away from the fact that no matter what, Dexter was a killer. So much of what was taken from the show was entirely up to the viewer, based on their own thoughts and beliefs regarding justice, family, and “fitting in.”
Dexter may not ever gain a certain level of universal appeal – it probably won’t be a classic in the same way that I Love Lucy or Dallas or Andy Griffith is – it’s just a little too edgy and progressive to be accepted by everyone. Even so, its limited appeal will make it all the more special to those that are able to enjoy it. Was it time for the show to end? Probably. Did it overstay its welcome? May just a little. Will Seasons 5 through 8 ever be placed on the same level as 1 through 4? Probably not. Dexter wasn’t a perfect show, but even when it wasn’t great it was still better than most other shows. We will undoubtedly continue to see the effects of Dexter on modern TV for years to come – who knows, maybe the next great TV show will come from a huge Dexter fan…?
Written by The Cubist
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