There Was A Butcher and His Wife

Dear Showtime,

For me, television no longer equates with mindless entertainment. All the Mad Men furor this year was really the result of HBO and, later, your network offering up comedies and dramas that excised laugh tracks, jazzed up title sequences, and demanded an attention span. Why shouldn't television tackle anything movies can?

I got a free DVD of the first episodes of Dexter and Weeds one day. By the end of each (and Weeds is less than 30 minutes), I savored more. School only allows me to follow a few shows religiously, but when Damages and Entourage and Nip/Tuck ended their seasons, Dexter was there for me. And what a dramatic concept: an empathetic serial killer who, we pray each week, will not be caught or castigated for his crimes. On the surface, we think he's trying to develop his human connection; but beneath it all, his real appeal and vitality comes from his night job as executioner of the wicked.

(By the way: MAJOR SPOILER ALERT AHEAD! ALL KINDS OF SPOILERS!)

When his victims last season were uncovered, how could we stop watching? When the wrong man took the fall for Dexter's Bay Harbor butchery, we licked our lips, satiated that our hero would live on to kill again.

You see, Showtime, I thought you might have exhausted your material early on, and drag the show out Friends-style for years. But self-parody was not on the menu at first: an impressive guest performance from Jimmy Smits as Miguel Prado, as well as the accidental murder of his brother, were. Dexter killed a man who didn't fit his code! Now he's chummy with Miguel! Now he's sharing his innermost secrets! The series peaked when Miguel let his demons overtake him and disposed of a personal vendetta by himself. What Dexter has wrought will now wreak havoc.

But this is why I write. Dexter decided Miguel had to die and offed him at the end of episode 11. What, then, to do in the season finale? Watch Dexter kiss the bride and duck cascades of rice? Oh, that's what happened. Somehow all the loose ends were tied up; nobody seemed overly upset, even Miguel's wife, about his death, and the department incurred no backlash for losing a Miami celebrity. What's more, the Skinner turned into a weak match for a stunningly calm Dexter. Nothing ruffled him in the finale: almost missing his wedding, being pursued, or even being tied down by a serial killer.

Clearly he's cunning at manipulating his own police department. He's got Deb and new wife Rita in his corner. And life seems so hunky-dory that I'm wondering, does he even want to keep killing? Showtime, I beseech thee, your season started so well: step it up in 2009. If Dexter's unmatchable, then raise the stakes. Let either Deb or Rita uncover the skeletons (and scalpels) in his closet.

Emmy-worthy actors like Michael C. Hall can't be squandered in domesticity. Stir him up, pop his collar, let him unleash his rage. We tuned in because Dexter got our blood pumping. Please return us to the cutting edge.

Sincerely,
A slice of reality