Dexter: New Blood

Creator: Clyde Phillips
Starring: Michael C. Hall, Jack Alcott, Julia Jones, Johnny Sequoyah, Alano Miller, Jennifer Carpenter, Clancy Brown, Jamie Chung, David Magidoff, Katy Sullivan, Michael Cyril Creighton, Gizel Jiménez, Steven M. Robertson, Oscar Wahlberg
Original Airdate: 2021

**The following review reveals major spoilers from 'Dexter: New Blood'**

★★★★ (out of ★★★★)

It's not a stretch to claim that the definition of what constitutes a successful TV series finale has changed considerably in recent years. With all the reboots, revivals, sequels and continuations coming down the pipeline, the question of whether a show's actually had its last episode is as open-ended as ever. That wasn't the case in 2013, when after eight seasons, Showtime's Dexter signed off with "Remember the Monsters?," a finale met with outrage from fans angered the title character's crimes would not only go undiscovered, but he'd face no legal consequences, escaping to live under an assumed identity as an lumberjack in Oregon.

While Dexter's abandonment of son Harrison and Deb's shocking death seemed to be the exact karmic punishment fans would clamor for, those decisions were widely criticized for reasons that made little sense then, and even less now. In retrospect, you can quibble with aspects of the execution, but it's really those reactions that haven't aged well considering what we've since learned about season finales. Wrestling with creative issues any drama would that far into its run, the last episode delivered exactly what was needed at the time, effectively closing the door while leaving it slightly ajar for a possible continuation down the road. 

Even those heavily anticipating what was in store for Dexter: New Blood framed it as some kind of a make-up or apology for the finale they felt so personally insulted by. Instead, it's actually further proof that all the right decisions were made in 2013 since we wouldn't have gotten this limited series return without it. A spectacular comeback and easily the best season since its fourth, this is a textbook study on to how to effectively resurrect a series, with original returning showrunner Clyde Phillips taking a fresh setting and a new cast to raise the stakes and deliver a completely different show. But wherever your opinion lands of that polarizing last episode today, it's no longer the finale, replaced by something leagues better, giving Dexter the definitive, satisfying closer it wasn't quite ready to deliver nine years earlier.

It's been ten years since Miami PD blood spatter analyst and serial killer Dexter Morgan (Michael C. Hall) dropped his sister Deb's (Jennifer Carpenter) body in the sea before driving his boat into the eye of Hurricane Laura. Presumed dead and leaving baby Harrison behind with girlfriend Hannah McKay (Yvonne Strahovski), he's eventually settled into the small town of Iron Lake in upstate New York under the identity of Jim Lindsay (a nice nod to Dexter novelist Jeff Lindsay), salesman at a local sporting gear store. 

Having been able to suppress his killing urges for the past decade, Dexter's dating town police chief Angela Bishop (Julia Jones), settling into a comfortable routine while being well liked by the locals. Living alone, Dexter speaks to an imaginary version of Deb, taking the place of his adoptive father Harry (James Remar) as the dissenting voice inside his head. But when a now teenage Harrison (Jack Alcott) arrives in Iron Lake after discovering his father's alive, Dexter must scramble to protect his cover while attempting to forge some kind of relationship with him.

Problems really start when Dexter slips back into his old habits, murdering Matt Caldwell (Steven M. Robertson), the entitled rich son of truck stop diner owner and town bigwig Kurt Caldwell (Clancy Brown), prompting a missing persons search. As Angela's suspicions of "Jim" grow and her adopted teen daughter Audrey (Johnny Sequoyah) forms an increasingly close bond with Harrison, a decades-long string of missing and possibly murdered local girls loom. With the Caldwell case bringing true crime podcaster Molly Park (Jamie Chung) to town, Dexter's concerns about being revealed as the notorious Bay Harbor Butcher increase, just as Harrison begins to rebel away from him and act out, showing signs his father's Dark Passenger may have been passed on. 

It wasn't obvious until watching this revival just how tired the Miami setting and other aspects had become for the character and series as a whole. A different opening title sequence, a twist on Rolfe Kent's original music theme and a total change of scenery is welcome, making everything feel entirely new. Dexter is transported into a colder, more isolated environment where he initially seems to relish and thrive in a small town atmosphere where he's simply as known as "Jim." Right off the bat the writers do an excellent job establishing Iron Lake as his home, seamlessly introducing these new faces and making it clear his plan to put the past behind him has mostly worked up to this point. 

Conversations with imaginary Debra take on a more argumentative tone when Dexter senses his Dark Passenger emerging from hibernation. While the trigger, in more ways than one, is Matt Caldwell, we're left with the impression that if it wasn't him, it would have just been someone or something else.

Ten years was just too big an ask for Dexter to curb his violent impulses, making it an inevitability he'd once again take out the syringes and plastic to prepare his infamous kill room. But he's a little rusty at at covering his tracks, which carries more urgency than usual considering his girlfriend's the police chief. 

Dexter's longstanding belief that he somehow saved Harrison from his sins is blown up when the teen shows up at his cabin doorstep demanding answers. Reeling from Hannah's death from cancer and having already gone through numerous foster homes, he's arrived plenty damaged and it takes only a few episodes to see just how much. Of course, Dexter deprives Harrison of the entire truth, which could provide the boy some reassurance about his own impulses, or in the very least confirm he isn't just  psychotic.

In a season all about fathers and sons, both Dexter and Harrison were "born in blood" having each been permanently scarred by witnessing the murder of their parent as children. Dex did have Harry, who showed him "the code" as a way of channeling his urges, and if it temporarily prevented something worse, he still careened out of control, hurting innocent people in the process. Harrison, on the other hand, has nothing other than the memory of the Trinity Killer, Arthur Mitchell (John Lithgow, briefly reappearing in flashback) murdering his mom, Rita (Julie Benz). 

At first glance, Harrison seems more normal, sociable, and well adjusted than his father, but he's bringing a lot of internal baggage to Iron Lake, through little fault of his own. The more Dexter lies and watches his son's every move, afraid and fully aware of what's coming, the worse their relationship gets. 

Jack Alcott's subtly brilliant performance throughout as Harrison has a lot of layers and much is asked of him, as he's constantly shifting between sociable, well adjusted teen and burgeoning menace, all while playing a character entirely uncomfortable as either. Alone in the world since birth due to Dexter's actions, he needs and wants a dad, but keeps getting signals that his father just isn't capable of it.

The only person who views Harrison without judgment and shows him understanding is Audrey, who actress Johnny Sequoyah imbues as the most practical, morally centered character of the season, right next to her mom, Angela. Unfortunately, the latter doesn't have the option of viewing boyfriend Dexter (or "Jim" as she knows him) in the same light since her radar's always up, every lead and tiniest suspicion soon pointing his way. And with Dexter flustered and sloppier than before, much of the season consists of us nervously anticipating when or if he'll finally be cornered.

Despite holding up relatively well for an eight season drama that constantly found ways around a serial killer protagonist being caught, bumbling, incompetent police became more prevalent toward the end of its run, with certain members of the Miami PD coming off as buffoons for not seeing what was under their noses for years. Here, with a more limited number of episodes, the pieces have to be put together fairly quickly and Angela Bishop makes for probably the strongest written female character the show's had, law enforcement or otherwise. 

Played with strength and determination by Julia Jones in a performance that only gets even better as the season's interlocking stories progress, Angela's a lot more than another Dexter girlfriend who has the wool pulled over her eyes. While the writers tidily establish their relationship in a short time, it's immediately on shaky ground, mostly because of her dedication to getting at the truth, wherever it may lead her. And she knows that something's up.

Torn between serving this small, close-knit community that isn't what it seems and her own Seneca heritage, the Matt Caldwell case reignites the guilt and trauma Angela experienced in the decades since her childhood best friend went missing. The desire to find her and other girls gone and presumed dead has her turning to unexpected sources for help, including a familiar returning face from series past, and Molly Park, whose memorably titled podcast could mean more trouble for Dexter. It's one thing to uncover that Jim Lindsay is Dexter Morgan, but another entirely to directly link him to the Bay Harbor Butcher case. We already know how many have failed or died in attempting to do this, but from the beginning of the season we're immediately rooting for Angela to be the one who finally gets there.

One of Dexter's biggest threats doesn't even come from police, but Kurt Caldwell, the father of his latest victim, who's harboring even darker secrets himself. Caldwell's concern for his son's whereabouts shifts to from angered panic to gratitude to constant meddling before the realization kicks in that the more everyone searches for Matt, the closer they get to his crimes. And he has a lot to hide, nearly as much as Dexter, which makes him easily the show's most formidable villain since Lithgow's Trinity. Loosely based on serial killer Robert Hansen, actor Clancy Brown terrifyingly depicts the character's double life as a outwardly benevolent pillar of the community whose good deeds are a front for kidnapping and brutally killing runaway girls. 

How Kurt operates (especially his nightmarish tactical hunting gear) is beyond unsettling and probably the closest the series has come to pure true crime-based horror yet. Pathologically warped by some daddy issues of his own having been raised by a rapist father and passing those issues on to a miserable son in Matt, Dexter is given a glimpse into his present and  Harrison's potential future if the cycle isn't broken. And like Dexter, Kurt also views his own killings as heroic, delusionally justifying that he's somehow saving these girls from men like his father. 

Whether or not Kurt knows what Dexter's done to Matt becomes a major question, as he squirms his way into Harrison's life, taking full advantage of an angry kid looking for the kind of father Dexter's failed to be since reentering his life. It's in the quieter moments where Brown's performance hits hardest, coming across as the town's trusted every man, manipulating and gaining trust by fabricating stories to that endear him to those most vulnerable. 

Arrogant and in control, Kurt's had few worries he'll be caught given what he's managed to get away with this long. Whether it's an extremely uncomfortable batting cage scene or his chilling underground trophy room of embalmed victims, he's the character that leaves the most disturbing impression,  a worthy foe for the faltering, weakened Dexter, who would do anything to get him on his kill table. That is if this monster doesn't get to Harrison first.

Michael C. Hall brings a different kind of desperation to the character now, escalated to levels where it really appears as if Dexter's run out of plays and there's no way out, especially in the final episode, "The Sins of the Father." Few shows ever get a second chance at a series finale so it comes as a relief that Phillips and director Marcos Siega don't squander theirs, putting the focus exactly where it belongs with a poetic send-off sure to cause more arguments and debate. 

It was practically predetermined that Harrison would eventually be sharing that kill room with his father and get to watch him in action, fully aware of the truth. Only Dexter's version of the truth of himself has evolved into a lie he's been leaning on for too long, far from from the "Dark Defender" superhero narrative he feeds Harrison. 

Dexter's desire to curb his son's emerging urges is genuine, but in trumpeting all the lives he's hypothetically saved, he overlooked the innocent people who suffered or have even been killed as a result of his actions. Whether it's Rita, LaGuerta (Lauren Vélez) or his sister Deb, it's almost like he doesn't process those at all anymore, as if they were merely collateral damage. 

That Harrison can't physically and emotionally stomach Dexter getting Kurt on the table is a sign there may still be hope yet for him, while also serving as foreshadowing for the big finish. Dexter may have compartmentalized all his murders as heroic, but whatever small amount of nobility originally existed in his intentions is long gone. 

It's almost surreal when Angela cracks the case, having done the unthinkable in getting Dexter behind bars and officially uncovering him as the Butcher with solid, prosecutorial evidence. That the returning Angel Batista (David Zayas) is on his way and Dexter could be extradited back to Florida to potentially face the death penalty doesn't just feel like talk, but the only time in the series' history where he truly seems done for. 

Dexter's forced to falls back on the only escape hatch he knows to survive: more killing. It's one too many for Harrison, realizing his father's murder of coach and friend Sergeant Logan (Alano Miller), who was just doing his job, reveals all he needs to know. In telling Dexter the painful truth he's needed to hear and has basically ignored from Deb the whole season, Harrison rightfully identifies the Dark Passenger as now being in the driver's seat, the "code" permanently shattered. 

Knowing it's become about feeding Dexter's impulses and nothing more, Harrison can't go with his father or let him escape knowing everything he's done, leaving only one option. And in a rare moment of self actualization for Dexter we've been waiting eight years for, he knows what has to be done and guides his son in completing it.

When Harrison puts that bullet in his father,  tearfully driving away from Iron Lake and leaving Audrey and his newly established life behind, there's a sense he's given himself some kind of fighting chance at a future, however painful it was. Whether the cycle has really been broken is now up to him rather than his bloodline, while for Dexter, it's his first, only and last selfless act as a parent.

If it seems that Angela didn't complete her takedown of Dexter, she actually did, discovering the truth while coming to the realization that Harrison is as much a victim of his father as anyone. She's had enough, throwing out the rule book to stop the vicious circle of violence that's infiltrated this town for generations, informing her decision to help Harrison escape and take the hit for Dexter's death. As he grabs Deb's hand drawing his last breath, it's the perfect ending, offering the only redemption possible for a character whose seemingly irredeemable actions helped usher in an entire era of TV anti-heroes. 

With rumblings that Showtime could already be planning a spin-off or continuation of New Blood without Hall, it's still hard to view this entire arc as anything but an end. All the time off did the series a world of good, making it even more difficult to imagine lightning striking twice, especially without the benefit of this terrific cast and setting. And hopefully all involved tune out the noise out this time, realizing fans again unhappy with how it played out will probably never be pleased, rejecting the very same end for Dexter they originally begged for in 2013. Doubling down on its intriguing central concept to bring the story full circle, it's emotionally concluded its character's dark journey, while hitting creative heights the series has rarely reached before.