Dexter Should Go To Elysium
In search of a plot
Tonight we decided to head off to the theatre and watch Elysium, this summer’s big sci fi-suspense-thriller staring Matt Damon and Jodie Foster. And really, thumbs up all around for a couple of solid hours of escapist entertainment.
There was even a resounding smattering of applause in the theatre when the credits rolled, which I admit I find a weirdly endearing social phenomenon. We didn’t mind a bit that Elysium looked, felt and acted a lot like District 9, including the fact that the bad guy in this movie was actually the good guy in that one, cause it all worked…likely because of Sharlto Copley’s wicked South African accent.
We had fun cause we were loving the story. It was a great ride. You cared about the characters and what was happening to them. The world was believable, which made it easy to buy into the tension, and that created the suspense. And the action…well geez, it’s not often you see a human being blown into that many bits! And this might be taking things too far, but it was funny, and maybe even something of a Freudian slip, that the producers chose to make French the language of Elysium’s hoity-toity bourgeoisie.
Here’s the thing, right before supper a couple of us were watching the latest episode of Dexter. We’ve been fans of the show for years, and while all seasons haven’t been created equal, there have been some doosies where the characters and tension have created a level of suspense that’s kept us on the edge of our seats. Knowing this season is the grand finale we assumed the producers would pull out all the stops, ensure the best writers were on the top of their game and make the 8th season one people would never forget.
Alas…each episode is more forgettable than the one before and the whole season has been one incredibly super boring snooze-o-rama shuffling aimlessly from scene to scene. Where previous seasons had us on the edge of our seat, this season feels like something right out of a Stephanie Myers script.
I mean seriously, Dexter’s kids have always been props, but you have to pity poor Harrison who isn’t even a prop worth keeping in the background. This episode he was actually shuttled off to Joey Quinn’s place for the night with his nanny…cause what long suffering nanny doesn’t want to drag her boss’s kid around day and night. Dexter the Deadbeat Dad…that’s about the most exciting thing in the whole season. The guys at Miami Metro, who are usually swamped solving some elaborate crime are basically just dicking around. Batista’s nail biting character arc this season is deciding who he’s going to promote to Sgt.
And Deb hardly even has anything to swear about. Last week some schlump in the writers room must have realized they’d forgotten an antagonist and decided to call up last year’s villain, Hannah McKay. Did she escape from prison? How or when did that happen? And if one of the most notorious female serial killers escaped, why isn’t there a massive manhunt for her? God knows Angel, Quinn and the rest of the station don’t have anything to do. And when in the world did she have time to meet, seduce and MARRY a multi gazillionaire. Any one of those details should have registered somewhere on Dexter’s radar.
We could have had a phenomenal season. Miami Metro could have been one step from discovering Deb’s role in Laguerta’s death as Dexter scrambled to stay one step ahead of them disposing of incriminating evidence and providing some nefarious misdirection. While that was going on Debra could have been spiralling out of control until her guilt and fierce sense of right and wrong forced her to decide to take him down. You want to bring Hannah back…fine. But only as a femme fatale intent on dealing with Dexter’s betrayal once and for all.
Having Dexter slowly swirl around the toilet bowl one episode at a time is a crime against great storytelling. Especially with all the deserving bastards on Elysium who deserve to spend sometime on Dexter’s table listening to his Dark Passenger pronounce the foreseeable consequence to their actions.
