"Dexter. Season 1" directed by Michael Cuesta et.al. [review]
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Dexter may well answer the question “How disturbing can a television series possibly get?” in the most intriguing and intelligent way. Based on a well-received (and wryly funny) novel by Jeff Lindsay, Dexter centres around the titular character of Dexter Morgan, a Forensic blood-splatter analyst working for the Miami police force, whose expertise at analysing blood patterns in part stems from the fact that he has himself caused a fair bit of blood to splatter over the years. Dexter, you see, is that rarest of sociopaths: a serial-killer who only strikes at victims who truly (in his eyes, at least) deserve to die. Dexter, whose childhood entailed traumas that are at first vaguely hinted at and then gradually become clearer as the series progresses, was taken in by a good-hearted cop (James Remar) and eventually raised to harness his murderous urges for the cause of good. Having grown up into the otherwise-respectable and utterly charming Police professional he is, Dexter spends his days working as a law-abiding cop, and his nights researching the lowest of low-lifes and then devoting himself heart and soul to wiping them off the face of the earth in the messiest of ways, always keeping a drop of their blood on a microscope slide as a souvenir.