Your Friendly Neighborhood Psychopath

2007-09-14T16:08:10Z

I never thought I would be one of those sad, strange women who falls for a serial killer.

My serial killer is different than all those others, though. My serial killer only kills bad guys. And I get to watch him every Sunday night on Showtime.

I'm talking about Dexter Morgan, of course, the anti-hero of Showtime's series Dexter, which begins its second season on September 30.

Dexter is one of those shows that appeals to its viewers on a much darker level than the average prime-time drama. When you watch it, you may find yourself feeling slightly, well, unclean. You're rooting for this guy, and you're not sure you should be.

Dexter Morgan isn't your run-of-the-mill Ted Bundy or Jeffrey Dahmer caliber serial killer. Dexter is a vigillante killer, only going after other killers, people who have escaped justice and whom he deems worthy of death. But Dexter doesn't just point a gun at them, pull the trigger and walk away. Dexter enjoys what he does. He takes his time. He relishes killing. He's a bona fide psycho.

But you like the guy. You can't help it. When he's not killing someone, he's a model citizen. He works as a blood-spatter analyst for the Miami police (how apropos). He's charming. He's quirky. He's devoted to his girlfriend and is a great role model for her kids, and for his foster sister Debra, who also works for the Miami police. He's your friendly neighborhood psychopath.

There's enough likeability there, in fact, to get you past the more uncomfortable parts of Dexter's personality. Like the weird enthusiasm in his voice when he discusses blood spatter with his colleagues. Or the way his face lights up when he is at the scene of a particularly gruesome murder. Or the way some of his victims' crimes just don't seem to be on the same level as, well, his own.

Dexter thinks of himself as inhuman, a "monster" without feelings or a conscience, but we viewers know better, and that's what helps us overlook those qualities he has that just don't sit right with us. If Dexter were truly a killer without a conscience, after all, he wouldn't care if he killed another psychopath or a helpless old lady. But Dexter takes great pains to make sure that his victims are—in his mind—the worst of the worst. And there are other moments, too, like when he is stalking one of his would-be victims and witnesses the almost-murder of a teenage boy. At the last minute he intervenes, saving the boy's life, and later questions why he, Dexter, a brutal killer, would do something so "human."

No doubt about it, this show is masterfully written, constantly walking the thin line between revealing a character that viewers know they ought to harbor a deep dislike for, and keeping that character sympathetic enough that viewers will root for him in spite of themselves. Dexter is a one of the best things going this television season, an impulsive, guilty pleasure that will mercilessly stalk you, even after you've turned your TV off.

Dexter airs on Showtime, Sundays 9pm ET/PT.

Why Television is the Greatest Art Form (Seriously)

2007-09-13T22:14:54Z

I know.

Psychologists, teachers, sociologists and hippies have been maligning television for decades now. Some people have even thrown their televisions out of their homes, whilst brushing their hands together and proclaiming "good riddance."

Television is bad, bad, bad. Bad for families. Bad for children. Bad for adults. Television eats away at our brains, makes us fat, and discourages free thought and family interaction.

Now, let's not even consider the fact that most of the folks who kicked television out of their homes and superciliously look down their noses at those of us who still bow to the idiot box will happily drag their asses to the movies on any given Friday night, sequestering themselves in a darkened theater filled with flashing lights and loud booming noises. Movies, they will tell you, are an art form and therefore not even in the same category as television.

True. Movies aren't in the same category as television because television is the greater art form.

All those hippies, psychologists, teachers and sociologists are laughing as they read this. How can the medium that gave rise to reality programming and FOX News possibly be an art form?

I will be the first to admit that 95% of the television programming on today is total crap. But television is still an art form.

No one will argue with the fact that the piano is an art form. But that doesn't mean that every six year old banging out Chopsticks on the piano is an artist. Likewise, just because television is proliferated with shows like Hell's Kitchen and So You Think You Can Dance doesn't mean that everything on television is banal and trashy.

But how can TV be a greater art form than movies? Movies have scale. They have huge screens, great sound and billion dollar stars. They have enormous budgets (yet they still manage to produce such embarrassments as Lady in the Water and Norbit, which no one ever mentions when they are talking about what a great art form film is).

What movies don't have, though, and will never have, is time. And time is what makes television the superior art.

Why does time matter? Because true character development, true plot intricacies, and true depth of storytelling cannot be accomplished in an hour and a half. Movie makers know this, and that's why the average movie has doubled in length to about three hours. But the average moviegoer doesn't have the patience for a long movie. People groan when they discover that the movie they were going to squeeze in between dinner and dessert is going to occupy most of their evening. And most people get bored after the third sequel. Hell, by the time the third sequel is finally released, most people can't even remember the first one.

Television, on the other hand, has time on its side. A three hour storyline can be spread out over three weeks, and if each part is well executed, viewers will still be itching to see the next episode by the time the previous week has passed. But television directors don't just have a three hour maximum to work with, like movie directors do. They have a whole season—20 to 25 episodes. They can take minor characters and flesh them out, giving them back stories, rich personalities and their own unique sets of problems. They can take main characters and make us feel like we know them intimately, like we could invite them over for a beer or have them watch our kids on a Friday night. They can take a simple storyline and develop it into a mystery with unexpected plot twists and intricacies that would baffle even the most savvy movie-goer if crammed into a three hour big-screen story. They can tackle a different social or moral problem every week, and do it well.

Now, taking advantage of all the television medium has to offer requires a special kind of director. Only a few are brilliant enough to recognize the potential of television, and fewer still have the talent necessary to create a television program that uses the art form to its maximum potential. That's why television is filled with so much crap.

But every now and then, a really outstanding program comes along. There are three or four of them this season alone (an improvement from the days when Buffy the Vampire Slayer was the only thing on TV worth watching).

And that's why I, personally, won't be throwing out my TV any time soon.