The idea that
Netflix invented binge-watching is something of a myth. To watch an entire
season of any television show was something that one could do during the early
years of the Golden Age of TV. Practicality was another matter.
I remember when
I was watching cable at the start of this millennium that many networks would
often rerun entire seasons of shows after they had first aired. FX would run
the first and second seasons of 24 after the first two years had aired;
HBO did the same for many of its original series such as The Sopranos in
marathons leading up to the premiere of the new season and the Sci-Fi channel
reran seasons of Battlestar Galactica on multiple occasions leading up
its final season and beyond that. Whether anyone was willing to be home in
order to sit through them is a question that I can’t answer for certain but the
couch potato existed before Netflix began streaming television so it’s more
than likely.
But the network
that was the most devoted to it and has been more than willing to stand by that
model even after a change in ownership was Showtime. I don’t remember when they
began it for certain but throughout the period that so many of their best
original series were on the air; whether it was The L Word or Homeland,
Nurse Jackie or The Affair, Showtime was always willing to run
marathons of its original series. There was a method to that madness when their
shows were in their original run. Before the season finale of a series like,
say, The Chi they would air on at least one of their networks the entire
season leading to the premiere of the season finale. Then in the lead up to the
second season of, say, Penny Dreadful they’d air the entire first season
before the premiere of the second. In an era when streaming was unheard of this
demonstrated a measure of respect for the fans: it acknowledged that they might
have forgotten the details of their favorite show or might just want to see it
again before the new season started.
This is
something I could respect even if I didn’t fit my own viewing patterns. There’s
something that even twenty years into my habits as a viewer that resists the
binge-watching model, even when it comes to series I love. I can handle
watching one episode of a series, maybe two but after that I go into a certain
sensory overload and have to move on to something else. That maybe my personal
issue with binge-watching (along with, as I’ve mentioned previous, all the
other problems its led to over the years for television as a whole)
I don’t regret
this decision but in a sense I know its hurt me multiple times because these
days how all networks tend to show any previous season. Recently HBO reran all
of Deadwood two separate times over the last two weeks. Deadwood is
still one of my favorite series of all time and I would gladly welcome the
possibility to rewatch it again. But I’d like to do it at my own pace and not
at the demand of a marathon. The same could be said for previous seasons of
other shows that I missed during their first run but would like to watch at a
measured pace now. But with Showtime and HBO you tend to get one shot and its
all at once. Consequently over the years I’ve missed multiple occasions either
to look at series I might have liked more had I gotten a better chance – The
Affair is the most recent example – or that need to be savored more than
binged – Billions is the best example of that.
But recently an
opportunity has arisen to do this at a modified pace. No doubt as an effort to
prepare viewers for the prequel series that is soon to come, Showtime has
started to air at least the first season of Dexter on Sundays two
episodes at a time. This has been an approach to rewatching a series I have
always preferred: I did so for shows like Big Love and The Wire when
they did so back in the 2000s and it’s a way that fits my mindset. So, even
though I still want to finish the second season of The Bear before
Sunday I decided to watch the first two episodes of Dexter tonight. And
as often is the case with so many shows I’ve been a fan of in my viewing
career, I’m reminded of why I fell in love with the show in the first place as
well as certain details I had forgotten with the passage of time.
Rewatching both
the pilot and the second episode I’m struck my several things both about Dexter
himself and all the characters in his orbit. Since this may well become a
recurring series (at least for Season 1) I’m going to limit my initial
impressions on what we get from Dexter in the first few episodes as well the
two major characters who have sadly become the most criticized by the fandom and
indeed social media in the nearly twenty years since we first saw the show.
First of all I
should mention that unlike any series with an antihero at the center I’d seen
before and almost none since that James Manos and Clyde Philips, the two men
who created the show made two brilliant decisions when it came to their
protagonist.
Tony Soprano
was someone who we gradually realized was a monster. Vic Mackey’s actions we
could excuse because he was a cop. Don Draper was just a misogynist at first;
we only gradually realized what a mess he was. And it may have taken us until
the final season of Breaking Bad to realize that Walter White had been
the villain the whole series. None of them, it should be added, show any signs
of self-awareness or an ability to change from their unpleasant tendencies and
most of them get even worse as the show’s progress.
Dexter is
unique in a way we never saw before and really haven’t seen since. He is aware –
and the narration ensures we know this – that he is a monster. It’s not just
that we see him kill someone in the first five minutes; it’s that his interior
monologue makes it very clear that there’s a void in him that doesn’t make him
connect. I’m reminded of a line Andy Kaufmann used in Taxi as a joke to
Danny DeVito: “What do you think of the human race? I’m looking for an outsider’s
opinion.” Dexter’s monologue, particularly in the pilot and the first seasons,
makes it clear to us that Dexter has a similar sense of detachment.
More to the
point he has a self-awareness of that fact in a way none of the characters I’ve
listed and very few others in this century have. This is a man who knows that
he as an outsider, not from society but in the entire world. He tends to take
everything at face value (he can’t pick up on Angel’s jokes, for one) and his
behavior walking into the police station shows a person who has to engage in
performance twenty-four hours a day. One of the things the show never goes into
detail in its flashbacks with Harry is whether Harry managed to show him how to
fit into society when he was developing the code. (I actually hope that the
prequel series shows that part.) Perhaps the writers are making a comment on
society as a whole as to how killers get away with their crimes and the flaws
in policing: Dexter himself mentions in the pilot how in Miami Metro Doakes is
the only one who notices something is off about him – and that everyone else in
the station just shrugs that off to a clash of personality rather than Doakes’s
is the only one who has a clue.
The best shows
in television are so perfect in their casting that you can’t imagine anyone
else playing the role. Dexter’s unique in that regard as well. In The
Sopranos and Mad Men James Gandolfini and Jon Hamm, respectively,
were relative unknowns when they were cast. Michael Chiklis has played cops
before but no one could have pictured him as the one he played in The Shield.
And anyone who would have thought the man best known for playing Hal in Malcolm
in the Middle could play Walter White in 2008 would have called you crazy. But
in the case of Dexter Michael C. Hall was the perfect choice even before
a single episode aired. This was, after all, the man who had just played David
Fisher on Six Feet Under for five seasons. Throughout the series we saw
him constantly wearing a mask either in his professional capacity as an
undertaker or as we learned in the first season, someone who had been hiding
his sexuality from the world all his life. David Fisher also regularly had
conversations with dead people – something that the show would put into effect starting
in Season 3 – and was more than capable of emotional outbursts in private. Hall
hadn’t played a serial killer but considering how much in touch he was with
death on Six Feet Under the real question is why he took the role: you’d
think he’d spent enough time with death and restraint to want to do a comedy.
The most
critical part of the show, one that takes a little time to dawn on us, is that’s
a reversal of so many series we’d gotten used to and would later on. And it’s
here that we get to the second part of this review which deals with the women
in Dexter’s life.
In a book I
read about Dexter not long after the fifth season aired a writer wrote
an essay about three female characters
that they referred to as “Dexter’s angels.” In the writer’s mind these
characters were the ones that brought out the parts of Dexter’s nature that he
truly didn’t think he had: the human connection. Particularly in the first half
of the series (generally agreed to be the creative highpoint of the show) Dexter’s
relationship with all three women were the key to the show – which is why it’s
disturbing that so many fans loathed the two most prominent ones.
We meet the
first one briefly in the pilot: Camilla, the woman who works in the records at
Miami Metro. Camilla is a recurring character in the series and you could be
forgiven for forgetting here. I certainly did with the passage not only of the
series as it progressed but with the passage of time itself. But there are
multiple reasons, particularly in the first two seasons why she’s so important.
When Dexter
enters Miami Metro with doughnuts he goes out of his way to go see Camilla.
Camilla’s in her late fifties and she has a maternal air to her that Dexter himself
is unaware of. (I’ll be curious to know if we see Dexter’s foster mother in the
prequel series; she’s basically absent in the flashbacks.)
Dexter’s behavior
seems a little faked in every interaction we’ve seen so far (save one, which I’ll
get back too) but with Camilla he seems more genuine in a way we have seen yet.
This is in part because he’s asking her to go over old crime files to serve his
baser instinct but we’ll see he’s more than capable of doing this without help as
early as the second episode. It’s clear given Hall’s performance that he seems
to feel something beyond the usual front he puts up. He looks more at ease
around her and he doesn’t stumble verbally the way he will with most other
characters. There’s an argument that Camilla is the mother Dexter never truly
had and he may not be able to acknowledge it to himself.
I must confess
that it wasn’t until the second or even the third time I watched the first
season again I realized that Camilla was played by none other than ‘Emmy-winner
Margo Martindale’ as she is famously known on BoJack Horseman. I didn’t
even make the connect by the time I saw what was her breakthrough role as Mags Bennett
on Justified in 2011 (which won her the first of her three Emmys to
date). But in my defense it is tribute to the kind of actress Martindale is
that you can’t square the same woman who played Mags Bennett and then Sylvia, the
Jennings’ handler on The Americans with the kindly woman we see here
joking with Dexter. Mainly its because with Camilla there’s no guile, no steel
and no meanness: she’s genuinely a good person who cares with no agenda. So it’s
tribute to Martindale in that sense I couldn’t make the connection.
The next
character who has been the subject of a huge amount of toxicity from fans even
while the show was on the air was Deb, Dexter’s foster sister played incredibly
by Jennifer Carpenter. I suspect that the loathing for Carpenter is much for
the same reason that Skyler took so much vitriol from fans on Breaking Bad: she
appears to be the person who is standing in the way of our ‘hero’ from doing
what we love him for. It’s hard to comprehend this because Dexter is a
vigilante and no one seemed to mind if he outwitted Angel or Doakes. The toxic
misogyny is strong in this one.
But it’s clear
from the start of the show that Dexter does feel comfortable with her in a way that
he pretends he doesn’t. He tells us “I’m not capable of liking people but if I
did I’d like her.” And that’s just not true from the moment we hear her on his
answering machine: he gives a smile of fondness he’s probably not aware of.
It's clear from
the very start that Dexter is a good big brother despite not being able to
understand the dynamic. There’s clearly affection in the way the two of them
banter that comes from being siblings; a mutual respect for Deb at Dexter’s capability
to figure things out; the way he clearly wants his sister to advance at Miami
Metro. He clearly respects both her vulnerability and her compassion, both
qualities he knows he doesn’t have. He knows he has to be the most careful
around her because he fears what it will be like if she ever learns who he
truly is. (Those fears, as we know by the end of the series, are completely
warranted.)
Carpenter nails
Deb as solidly as Hall nails Dexter in the pilot. There’s something refreshing about
where the female character on a cable series then (and now) is by far the most
foul-mouthed character on the show. Deb’s profanity is at the level of the characters
in Deadwood but unlike them it’s clear as much a mask as Dexter’s. Deb
knows how hard it is to advance as a cop as a woman and she clearly curses and
is profane about her sexual habits because she wants to show the locker room
talk doesn’t scare her. She knows that female cops are considered weaker and
have to work twice as hard and while she has pull in the department because of
who her family is she clearly wants to make it on her own.
This is made
clear in one of the better conflicts in the first season and one of the best
ones throughout the series: the relationship between Deb and LaGuerta (Lauren
Velez). LaGuerta is clearly a political animal who likely endured the same
sexism climbing the ladder that Deb is dealing with but from the start it makes
it clear she holds as toxic a view to women cops as her male counterparts. When
Deb tries to talk about the refrigerated truck where the bloodless bodies are
being dumped, LaGuerta immediately shuts Deb down and demands to go back to
looking for a witness. When Deb and Dexter find the ice truck in the second
episode LaGuerta immediately reads Deb the riot act for going against her orders.
Chain of commands matters more than a break in the case to LaGuerta. It’s not
until Deputy Chief Matthews (Geoff Pierson) essentially shows up at the crime
scene that LaGuerta promotes Deb from Vice to Homicide in a brilliant scene in
which she says in front of Matthews how impressed she is by the work with her
body language arguing the complete opposite. Deb relishes that moment later on.
During Dexter’s
run on the air female led cop dramas would begin to dominate cable and network
TV, from The Closer and Major Crimes and Law and Order: SVU and
other procedurals. Deb is as heroic and complicated as any of the female leads
and has a clearer sense of right and wrong that some of them don’t. So why has
her character been labeled annoying at best and one of the worst character on
TV? I would have considered Deb the true hero of Dexter during the time
it was on the air and she still comes away with the greatest moral clarity. The
toxic misogyny is the only explanation for so many who hate Dexter’s second
angel.
But if the
contempt for Deb is baffling the similar contempt for the third is absolutely
horrifying. Rita Bennett, who Julie Benz played exceptionally for four seasons,
was arguably the show’s most constant form of goodness throughout the series. We
know in their first meeting that Dexter chose her for camouflage purposes which
might explain why some people think she was being used. Those people clearly
chose to omit her backstory which Dexter tells us.
Rita’s husband
Paul was guilty of domestic abuse, regularly beating and raping his wife before
he was finally put in prison. Dexter points out that Rita in her own way is as damaged
as he is but it’s clear that he (unlike so many online trolls) never judges her
for it.
Even if we
allow the fact that Rita may have started as a beard its worth noting that in
Dexter’s scenes both with her and Astor and Cody he seems unguarded in a way we
don’t see at any other point in the Pilot. If its an act he’s putting on it’s a
very good one: he truly seems to love every moment he’s with Astor and Cody and
acts like a truly good father. And he has a similar level of honesty with Rita.
The main reason he agreed to date her was because this is a relationship he
doesn’t think will involve sex and he believes passion will lead to his monster
coming out. (This is just one of many areas where Dexter is clearly wrong.) But
it’s clear in his scenes with her that he gets the small moments right in a way
Rita hasn’t had.
It's clear in
his interior monologues that while he’s great at killing monsters and cutting
their bodies up the idea of comforting his girlfriend is too big an obstacle
for him. Yet in the second episode it’s clear he has the ability to do that.
The biggest
argument for Rita being annoying is that she was hopelessly naïve as to who she
was dating and later married too. First of all, it’s worth noting this is
basically true for almost every character he interacts with, including the regulars.
And considering that knowledge of Dexter’s true self often leads to horrific consequences
throughout the show it’s hard to argue why you want her too.
You could also
argue that Rita, like many battered women who leave abusive relationships, are
drawn to people they think are protectors but are really just another monster.
Her attitude, in accepting so many of Dexter’s excuses over the series, may
very well just be another version of the ones she kept telling hers each time
Paul beat her. This is a pattern we’ve seen throughout television in the years
to follow, most notably with Celeste Wright on Big Little Lies and Sally
on Barry. And for all the flaws in Dexter’s character during the four
years of their relationship he never physically hurts Rita or her children. (I’ll
leave aside everything involved Harrison and his origins for another article
down the line.)
What seems to
be going with the attitude towards Rita, sadly, seems more a case of the
internet literally deciding to blame the victim. This is even sadder than with
Deb because Rita is the only series regular who is entirely an innocent. And in
a sense Benz’s work was a revelation from where most viewers knew here: her
work as Darla, the vampire who sired Angel in Joss Whedon’s Buffy-verse.
There’s no guile with Rita, all she wants is to be a good mother to her children
and a good girlfriend to Dexter. Benz completely nails the broken aspects of
Rita in the first episodes, someone who wants badly to move on from her
relationship but can’t seem to get past her trauma. There’s an argument Dexter
is better matched with her than any of the other broken women he will be
involved with during the series, even those who learn his secrets. Yes Dexter
is putting on a front with her he doesn’t with any of the others but in this
case the front is something that is actually healthier for him then revealing
his darkness.
That may be, in
hindsight, the most revolutionary thing about Dexter. In a way it’s a
reversal of what we famously see unfold on Breaking Bad. Walter White spends
the length of the series becoming the monster he always had the potential to
be. Dexter Morgan begins the show as a monster and finds himself, almost
unwittingly, become more of a human being. That thesis, as we shall see, makes
up the bulk of the first season.
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