Dexter
Showtime
Sunday 11 p.m.

Over the past few years, as TV networks have been realizing that exceptional casts paired with innovative storylines make for compelling one-hour dramas (a la Lost and Heroes), an onslaught of shows have come and gone simply because viewers couldn't afford to miss a single episode.

Shows such as Kidnapped, The Nine and Smith all had interesting premises but never found the loyal audiences the format requires. Dexter is another new program at risk for this kind of demise. But its unique take on the phenomenon of the neo-drama is worth making time for. (Or at least a little room on your DVR).

The show, which is based on a series of novels by author Jeff Lindsay, centers around the day-to-day life of a serial killer named Dexter Morgan (played cunningly by Six Feet Under veteran Michael C. Hall). Dexter is not, however, what you might call a "conventional" serial killer. To begin with, he works for the Miami Police Department. Also, his victims are other serial killers.

Dexter embodies an uncommon candidate for antihero: someone who is not only un-heroic, but also utterly inhuman. Though he tracks criminals, he is not in any way sympathetic. In the end, he always kills, and with calculating and gruesome precision.

The show may appeal to moral relativists, but not the faint of heart. After injecting his victims with a horse tranquilizer, Dexter likes to strip them naked and cover them in plastic wrap. He then takes a single sample of their blood and puts it in on a microscope slide (as a souvenir, of course). Then he cooks them, until they die.

Part of the appeal of the show, however, is that there is no explicit judgment made of Dexter's lifestyle or actions. As the story goes, Dexter is just imitating the moral code taught to him by his stepfather Harry (James Remar).

When Harry, a Miami detective, discovered Dexter's childhood propensity for butchering small animals, he realized that his son might need a little guidance. Harry encouraged Dexter to turn his urges into a way to meticulously and efficiently kill bad people without being caught.

But don't judge Harry — the writers of Dexter seem to insist — it's the best he could do considering the cards he was dealt.

This relativism is what makes Dexter such a fascinating program. Unlike any other show on television, it challenges you to identify with an immoral character — which can, and possibly should, be a difficult thing to do.

Stylistically, however, Dexter is sometimes a challenge in another way. Inane voiceovers give it an eerie noir vibe that doesn't ever feel organic; with a main character who is a meticulous killer, not a dogged detective, what are the sexy trappings of noir supposed to achieve?

Also, the program sometimes feels like a "buddy cop" drama; many of the peripheral characters are tacky "cop" stereotypes that distract from the disturbing-yet-original central premise. Much of the development of these outlying characters seems to be rushed, and as the series develops, this pace needs to slow down in order to give Dexter's story a comfortable centrality. (Note to the writers: Exposing character details is not the same as adding character depth.)

Julie Benz, who plays Dexter's girlfriend Rita, does offer a truly genuine performance. As both a struggling single mom and an incredibly sexy ingénue, she is the only person in the series not only deserving, but demanding, sympathy. Even the hardly-human Dexter laments the difficulties she would experience if he were to ever be caught — and this tension fuels much of the narrative.

Because of its original premise, Dexter packs a gripping existential punch. It has the potential to alter the formula of the cookie cutter one-hour drama, just as it has the originality to call into question much of what seems "right" and "wrong" in the clichéd world of criminal justice television.

But even if it doesn't change much about television, it'll surely be slicing and dicing its way through prime time — and maybe all the way to the top of the ratings pile. That is, if anyone can fit it in between episodes of Lost and Heroes.

— David Murcko (david dot murcko at gmail dot com)