“Dexter” starts this Sunday, and to put it mildly, it will be interesting to see how the show evolves after last season’s shock ending. I’ll put the rest of this after the jump in case anyone hasn’t finished the fourth season yet.
Will viewers, like some critics, decide that the show went too far, and that they can no longer take innocent joy in watching a serial killer with time-management issues and abnormally large facial features go about his merry ways? Or will they be relieved that Rita, almost universally hated by fans, is gone? (My bet is that Astor and Cody will be, too. That deus ex machina appearance of Paul’s hitherto-unmentioned parents — who despite raising a wife-beating heroin addict are oh, just wonderful people whom Rita trusts implicitly with her children intimated as much.)
I’ll keep watching, partly out of love for Michael C. Hall’s work, partly out of inertia, partly out of a desire to see if my secret theory is correct: that Dexter is actually not a psychopath at all, but was merely conditioned to believe he was by his stepfather Harry, a man who truly did lack all conscience.
In the meantime, though, here are the three great mysteries of “Dexter”:
1. How did Rita wind up unexpectedly pregnant anyway? If there’s anything we know about Dexter, it’s that a) he can damn well keep his DNA to himself and b) he wraps everything in plastic. I’m just not seeing this guy accidentally knocking someone up.
2. Why doesn’t Dexter have different ring tones on his cell phone? Considering how much time he spends in the car, and how compartmentalized his life is, you’d think he’d want to know whether it’s his clueless wife, his suspicious coworker, or his latest victim on the phone without having to look down in traffic.
3. How does Dexter stay in shape? Even under his grey Henley killin’ shirt, you can tell Michael C. Hall is cut like a diamond. Dexter has repeatedly been shown besting men larger and better trained than he is in hand-to-hand combat. Yet we never see him working out (he had a treadmill at his old apartment, but I only recall Deb ever using it), and the fact that he rarely has time to kill — literally — means we can’t assume he’s hitting the gym during offscreen time. The only foods we ever see him eat are donuts, pizza, waffles, pot roast, Cuban sandwiches, and other child- and officemate-pleasing treats. Does serial killing burn that many calories?
If so, I sure as hell hope Meme Roth never finds out.