Dexter has long suffered from a central narrative problem: No one is ever as interesting as Dexter himself. Sure, it’s hard to compete with the inherent intrigue of a vigilante serial killer, but it’s even harder to compete when Dexter’s a genius and everyone else hovers right around abject imbecile. Masuka gets the skanky one-liners, Harry gets the words of wisdom, but poor Deb just asks dumb question after dumb question, in between pointing out the most obvious elements of every investigation or story line. Tell us again how she’s flown up the ranks of the police department! It seems like any day now she could be named, you guessed it, Captain Obvious.
