High Definition: Dexter, 24 & The Fallenness of Man

For the longest time, I resisted watching Dexter. I didn’t want to find myself rooting for a serial killer, justifying his murderous appetite with the fact that he only kills bad guys, that he’s really a nice guy who brings doughnuts to the office each morning, that there’s nothing more satisfying than seeing justice served to the most wretched of criminals who had thought they’d beat the system. I’d already got caught up in a season of 24, and it left me feeling a little icky.

The central message of 24 seems to be that we’ve seen enough pansy-ass pussyfooting in dealing with inhumane terrorists who deserve our wrath—even our torture—and I quit the show after only one season because I realized how easy it was for me to start pulling for justice without the niceties. Jack Bauer was like a walking argument for the Patriot Act—the logical conclusions of all the hypothetical moral questions of putting the security of the innocent many before the rights of the evil one. He’s Clint Eastwood, cleaning up streets; of course we’re on his side. There’s real evil out there, and every time I read of massacres in The Sudan or child prostitution in Cambodia, I want to pick up an Uzi and fight. 24 appealed to my better nature—a desire for justice—but constantly tried to corrupt it. I stopped watching because, without fail, I found myself right along side Bauer, pulling for him to do whatever it took to save the day.

And so now I also find myself pulling for Dexter Morgan, the blood spatter expert who has been secretly spattering the blood of dozens of victims—all of whom deserved their fates. Every time it looks like he’ll be caught, I’m on edge. I’m emotionally invested in this vigilante with a bloodlust as he stalks his prey, and while I don’t like what that says about me, the show never pretends that Dexter is a hero.

24 might tap into some of the same dark places as Dexter, but it celebrates them, while Dexter reveals them for what they are. Dexter doesn’t kill to protect society. He doesn’t kill to avenge the innocent, though his adopted code ensures that those are the byproducts of his butchering. He kills because he’s broken. He’s been damaged by childhood evil that’s left him emotionless and merciless, and killing makes him feel alive and powerful. He’s learning to be human. After the death of his father, he’s trying to make his own way in the world—what it means to be a brother, a friend, part of a team, even a husband and father. But his “dark passenger” is still along for the ride. And the two characters that come to accept Dexter’s violent hobby are undone by their own demons.

In Season Two, Dexter’s psychotic girlfriend Lyla says that she’s not afraid of what’s under his mask, that it’s like looking into a mirror. And for hours after watching any episode, I’m looking into the same mirror, and it does scare me. My desire for justice in the world is a good thing, especially those times it gets me off my ass to help support the fight against modern-day slavery. But that lust for justice can be easily manipulated into a self-righteousness and vengeance. And while neither are particularly an area of struggle for the passionless Dexter, it’s good to be reminded of my own brokenness. I subscribe to a theology that says we’re all broken. Dexter’s monsters are bigger, scarier versions of our own. Sufjan Stevens gets at this in “John Wayne Gacy”: “In my best behavior/ I am really just like him/ Look beneath the floorboards/ For the secrets I have hid.” Flannery O’Connor nails this in so many of her short stories, dredging up the evil that lurks in the shadows to show us the evil that lurks in our hearts. And Dexter does this nearly every episode, and I can’t stop watching. Dexter is a nice guy, and he’s the devil. And that’s something I should never forget.

Get the Paste mPlayer for only 99¢

It's the new way to experience Paste. Read, listen, watch and download the week's essential entertainment in one so-easy-your-toddler-can-use-it app.

pastemagazine.com/mplayer

Features

Catching Up With... Thao Nguyen

Features

Catching Up With... The Jesus Lizard

Comments

Privacy

No Facebook? Click to comment.

By Would be vigilante on October 20, 2009

I like your piece. I'm a former Marine Gulf War Vet & former deputy sheriff with a strong sense of justice. I'm not a vigilante, but I'd sure like to be.

I think most people would like to be vigilantes if it were esy and not risky. The problem is, like you said, I'm broken. My judgement is flawed. Maybe I don't have all of the facts in the case. Maybe I'd make a mistake. And when it comes to ending another person's life, one mistake would be more than I could bear.

I do feel like the strongest possible tactics are necessary against terrorists. When people don't play by the rules, they'll usually beat those who only play by the rules. It's kind of like a second grade elementary school class playing football against the Oakland Raiders; it doesn't matter how badly the nice little guys want to win - the Raiders will cream them.

Dealing logically and peaceably with the terrorists is like a "Pearls Before Swine" comic where the Crocodiles are eating the Zebras. The Zebras have come up with a movement called "Jokes for the Crocodiles" in which they tell jokes to the Crocodiles in an effort to get them to see them as intelligent individual beings, and not just food.

The last frame of the cartoon has one Crocodile saying to another, "What joke Zeba say before I eat him?" The other Croc says, "I dunno. What joke Zeba say?" And the first one replies, "Who cares? He tastes so good."

Us dealing "humanely" with terrorists is like telling jokes to the Crocs.

Us: Dear valuable, precious terrorists made in God's image, please blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah.......

Them: BOMB. MURDER. BEHEAD.

Us: Oh. I guess they didn't get our message.

I wish this weren't the way of things. But it seems to be.

By Micah on October 20, 2009

Indeed, it does feel weird to root for a serial killer, but Dexter--the show--is so self aware and it deals with the question of what it means to be human (evil?) and plays very well into the nature vs. nurture debate, as well as the question as to whether we are capable of change.

It has become my favorite television drama of all time. I would easily watch all three seasons again (and I don't think I could say that about any other TV drama). I place it right alongside Arrested Development as my "favorite tv show of all time" (separating them into "comedy" and "drama").

By Tina on October 20, 2009

I like your comparison between 24 and Dexter, however, when does entertainment ceases to be an entertainment? We need to recognize a TV show is exactly what it’s, a TV show and nothing more. It’s when we blurred the line between entertainment and reality that’s when it becomes dangerous. Maybe that’s why I don’t watch reality shows.

By 1Director on October 21, 2009

Besides Law & Order and PBS BBC programs, I haven't watched any other TV show in years. I didn't even know what Dexter was all about, but, considering that my fictional heroes are Paul Kersey and Harry Callahan (As well as those played by Steven Seagal and Chuck Norris) Dexter seems like something I'd love to try. Forget about Miranda and all that crap, let's get rid of criminals.

By Rob VG-R on October 25, 2009

Both Dexter and 24 seem to peddle the myth of redemptive violence, wherein a hero drops in to do the "necessary" but unseemly dirty work in order to see "justice" done. The myth's structure requires the hero to be a loner outside the community (see Jack Bauer and, perhaps, Dexter) because the actual work of community building and maintenance is far too difficult and complex to be a plausible solution to injustice.

Unfortunately, life is more complicated than most television and the myth of redemptive violence would like to have it. People are endlessly complicated and our stories never fit into neatly defined plot lines.

Though I haven't had the opportunity to watch Dexter (which, I'll admit, makes this post a bit problematic), it seems that Dexter is allowed to be shaped by his difficult past but his victims are not. While he escapes what he deserves (according to the show's own moral metric), his victims aren't given the same grace.

And so we are sucked into to another story that attempts to legitimate the use of violence as a proper means to implement justice--which sets up all kinds of real life implications.

By rock on December 15, 2010

Well, I don't have all of the facts in the case. Maybe I'd make a mistake. And when it comes to ending another person's life, one mistake would be more than I could bear, thanx for posting.

Tulsa Bankruptcy