By our guest blogger, Eva Medoff

Warning: Spoilers will follow.

The implausible and boring storylines of Dexter’s fourth season are finally coming to a close--and the eleventh episode, “Hello, Dexter Morgan,” is rather unfortunately strangled in them. The penultimate episode opens on reporter Christine Hill’s interrogation, and so far she’s not willing to give up her serial killer father. However, as soon as the words “Arthur Mitchell” leave her lips, Dexter will be in the uncomfortable position of having Trinity visit his place of work and figure out his true identity. Thus, Dexter embarks on an elaborate mission to lead Miami Metro to a fall guy and save Trinity for his own dark passenger.

Here is where the stupidity comes in. If Dexter hadn’t gotten so involved with Trinity for his own learning opportunities, hadn’t exposed himself to Arthur’s family and hadn’t lied so thoroughly to create the persona of “Kyle Butler,” everything that happened in “Hello, Dexter Morgan” could have been avoided. At the end of every season, Dexter is involved in a web of treachery and his dark side is always dangerously close to exposure. The difference is that Dexter usually doesn’t cause these things himself--they come from clever, outside plot constructions. “Clever” is not a word that describes season four.

As Dexter plants evidence to convict his fall guy, Trinity is busy going through the phone book and making visits looking for “Kyle Butler.” One unfortunate Kyle annoys Arthur and winds up dead--making him collateral damage of Dexter’s personal project. Dexter spends some time chasing Arthur, some time on the phone threatening him and, well, blah blah blah. More filler that added up to nothing in the end.

As for the episode's love storylines, they come twofold. Batista and Laguerta, despite promising the police chief that their relationship was over in order to keep their jobs, are exposed as lovers. They decide to get married, and somehow insinuating that discriminating against the institution of marriage would make the department look bad manages to save their jobs. This in no way makes sense. If two people in a relationship could not serve in the same department, especially when one was the boss of the other, doesn’t it make it even worse if they’re married? If the writers agree to box up this dud of a storyline once and for all, I won't argue.

Meanwhile, Rita admits to Dexter that she kissed the neighbor, Elliot. He doesn’t care too much and Rita notices. Then, when Dexter returns home one night, Elliot is sitting on his stoop and Rita is looking out through the kitchen window. Whether he actually felt angry, was simply juiced from his killing earlier in the day (he killed the fall guy, who was a murderer himself, after planting the Trinity evidence at his place), or knew that Rita was watching, Dexter goes over and punches Elliot. Rita, who has reverted into some sort of Southern belle, is impressed by her man protecting his territory.

Miami Metro falls for Dexter’s setup about Trinity. Deb isn’t completely convinced and believes Christine will still crack. Christine is released due to lack of evidence, and promptly calls Arthur, who promptly tells her he wishes she was never born. This is all Christine and her daddy complex need to tip over into the deep end. She calls Deb, who arrives just in time to hear Christine’s confession and see her put a bullet in her head.

Arthur cunningly lures Dexter to a location, and when Dexter is called away to be by Deb’s side, he follows him back to the police department. Swiftly, he realizes Dexter is not “Kyle Butler,” and in a scene ripped from “Public Enemies,” Arthur waltzes into the homicide department and gazes, like John Dillinger, at a wall full of information about him and his victims. He makes his way around the corner, where he’s spotted by Dexter. The two slowly approach one another, and Arthur mutters the title of episode, “Hello, Dexter Morgan.” John Lithgow is certainly chilling as Arthur--if only the rest of this season could hold its own weight. Unfortunately, Lithgow is swimming alone.

By our guest blogger, Eva Medoff

Warning: Spoilers will follow.

The implausible and boring storylines of Dexter’s fourth season are finally coming to a close--and the eleventh episode, “Hello, Dexter Morgan,” is rather unfortunately strangled in them. The penultimate episode opens on reporter Christine Hill’s interrogation, and so far she’s not willing to give up her serial killer father. However, as soon as the words “Arthur Mitchell” leave her lips, Dexter will be in the uncomfortable position of having Trinity visit his place of work and figure out his true identity. Thus, Dexter embarks on an elaborate mission to lead Miami Metro to a fall guy and save Trinity for his own dark passenger.

Here is where the stupidity comes in. If Dexter hadn’t gotten so involved with Trinity for his own learning opportunities, hadn’t exposed himself to Arthur’s family and hadn’t lied so thoroughly to create the persona of “Kyle Butler,” everything that happened in “Hello, Dexter Morgan” could have been avoided. At the end of every season, Dexter is involved in a web of treachery and his dark side is always dangerously close to exposure. The difference is that Dexter usually doesn’t cause these things himself--they come from clever, outside plot constructions. “Clever” is not a word that describes season four.

As Dexter plants evidence to convict his fall guy, Trinity is busy going through the phone book and making visits looking for “Kyle Butler.” One unfortunate Kyle annoys Arthur and winds up dead--making him collateral damage of Dexter’s personal project. Dexter spends some time chasing Arthur, some time on the phone threatening him and, well, blah blah blah. More filler that added up to nothing in the end.

As for the episode's love storylines, they come twofold. Batista and Laguerta, despite promising the police chief that their relationship was over in order to keep their jobs, are exposed as lovers. They decide to get married, and somehow insinuating that discriminating against the institution of marriage would make the department look bad manages to save their jobs. This in no way makes sense. If two people in a relationship could not serve in the same department, especially when one was the boss of the other, doesn’t it make it even worse if they’re married? If the writers agree to box up this dud of a storyline once and for all, I won't argue.

Meanwhile, Rita admits to Dexter that she kissed the neighbor, Elliot. He doesn’t care too much and Rita notices. Then, when Dexter returns home one night, Elliot is sitting on his stoop and Rita is looking out through the kitchen window. Whether he actually felt angry, was simply juiced from his killing earlier in the day (he killed the fall guy, who was a murderer himself, after planting the Trinity evidence at his place), or knew that Rita was watching, Dexter goes over and punches Elliot. Rita, who has reverted into some sort of Southern belle, is impressed by her man protecting his territory.

Miami Metro falls for Dexter’s setup about Trinity. Deb isn’t completely convinced and believes Christine will still crack. Christine is released due to lack of evidence, and promptly calls Arthur, who promptly tells her he wishes she was never born. This is all Christine and her daddy complex need to tip over into the deep end. She calls Deb, who arrives just in time to hear Christine’s confession and see her put a bullet in her head.

Arthur cunningly lures Dexter to a location, and when Dexter is called away to be by Deb’s side, he follows him back to the police department. Swiftly, he realizes Dexter is not “Kyle Butler,” and in a scene ripped from “Public Enemies,” Arthur waltzes into the homicide department and gazes, like John Dillinger, at a wall full of information about him and his victims. He makes his way around the corner, where he’s spotted by Dexter. The two slowly approach one another, and Arthur mutters the title of episode, “Hello, Dexter Morgan.” John Lithgow is certainly chilling as Arthur--if only the rest of this season could hold its own weight. Unfortunately, Lithgow is swimming alone.

By our guest blogger, Eva Medoff

With only two episodes left, “Dexter” managed to continue last week’s lukewarm winning streak (most of the season has been frigidly cold) with Sunday night’s episode, “Lost Boys.” In a return to the tried-and-true “Dexter” format, this episode finds Dexter racing against the clock to stop an imminent threat. Meanwhile, Deb is hot on reporter Christine’s trail, and Batista and Laguerta continue their hormonal teenage romance.

Spoilers will follow in this review, so if you haven't seen the episode and don't want to know what happened, stop reading now.

Last week, in the most explosive scene of the season, Dexter blew his cover with Arthur and let his “dark passenger” emerge. No longer posing as sweet, confused Kyle Butler, he tails Arthur and plans to take him out immediately. This is foiled, however, when Arthur abducts a 10-year-old boy from a carnival, and Dexter realizes his killing pattern has four victims--not three.

Dexter’s next stop is Arthur’s house, where he enlists Trinity’s abused teenage son, Jonah (Brandon Eaton), to help him locate his father’s whereabouts. Realizing that Arthur is supposedly on a two-day charity trip, he knows this is the time he has to stop him from murdering the young boy. In a threatening phone call, Arthur promises Dexter that he will leave the boy’s innocence intact--which in Trinity language can’t mean anything good.

Deb invites Christine Hill to the department to hold their interview. She ends up turning the tables on Christine, however, when she takes her into an interrogation room and has Batista listen in. When Deb takes out photos of Lundy’s dead body, Christine panics and abruptly calls off the interview. Even more incriminating?  She can’t explain how she got to the crime scene as fast as she did.

Batista now agrees with Deb that Christine must have been involved, especially since she’s the same height as Deb and Lundy’s shooter. Not willing to give up, Deb convinces Quinn to give her Christine’s tooth brush in order to get a DNA sample. And guess what they find? That Christine is related to Trinity, of course.

Realizing the cops are on her tail, Christine panics and calls Daddy. This is where the show needed to do some explaining. Apparently, she wasn’t doing her father’s dirty work, or he wasn’t the one ordering her to do it. She doesn’t even know the extent of her father’s homicidal past--only about the bathtub murders, which she pieced together off the basis of a childhood memory. For reasons not yet clear, Arthur keeps her away from his other family and only visits her a handful of days a year, and Christine is starved for his attention and crazed by daughterly devotion. This led her to help “protect” her father and murder Lundy.

She admits this much to Arthur, who acts touched and tells her they’ll figure out how to deal with the police. Once he drives away, however, it’s a different story, and his true evil side emerges. It’s clear he plans to do away with her later on, rather than comfort her. Now that his guard also is down with Dexter, it’s particular fun watching John Lithgow play the bad guy.

Arthur takes the young boy to a bomb shelter at a deserted house and forces him to wear pajamas, listen to music from the '60s and answer to the name of “Arthur.” It’s supremely creepy. In every “kill cycle,” he abducts a boy the same age he was when his sister died, and kills him five weeks before the time he had caused his sister’s death 30 years prior. Lastly, he doses him out with medication, zips him up in a duffle bag, and drops him alive into a block of wet cement. So this is what he means about “preserve his innocence.”

Luckily, Dexter is there to prevent this from happening, but Trinity still gets away. We cut to Christine’s house, where she’s pacing nervously when the doorbell rings. We’re to assume it’s Arthur, but in fact it’s Miami Metro coming to arrest her.

In essence, nothing too exciting happened on “Lost Boys.” It seemed to take its sweet time with Dexter tracking Arthur, and even a boring side story with (who else?) Rita and Cody. (Did I mention the insufferable downer that is James Remar as Dexter’s father, Harry Morgan?) It’s nice to see Jennifer Carpenter up to her usual hilarious brilliance as Deb, especially now that her mourning period for Lundy is over and she can return to her crass self. Despite the slow pace of “Lost Boys,” however, the tension is there. Now, there’s only two episodes for “Dexter” to show us it still knows how to use it.

By our guest blogger, Eva Medoff

With only two episodes left, “Dexter” managed to continue last week’s lukewarm winning streak (most of the season has been frigidly cold) with Sunday night’s episode, “Lost Boys.” In a return to the tried-and-true “Dexter” format, this episode finds Dexter racing against the clock to stop an imminent threat. Meanwhile, Deb is hot on reporter Christine’s trail, and Batista and Laguerta continue their hormonal teenage romance.

Spoilers will follow in this review, so if you haven't seen the episode and don't want to know what happened, stop reading now.

Last week, in the most explosive scene of the season, Dexter blew his cover with Arthur and let his “dark passenger” emerge. No longer posing as sweet, confused Kyle Butler, he tails Arthur and plans to take him out immediately. This is foiled, however, when Arthur abducts a 10-year-old boy from a carnival, and Dexter realizes his killing pattern has four victims--not three.

Dexter’s next stop is Arthur’s house, where he enlists Trinity’s abused teenage son, Jonah (Brandon Eaton), to help him locate his father’s whereabouts. Realizing that Arthur is supposedly on a two-day charity trip, he knows this is the time he has to stop him from murdering the young boy. In a threatening phone call, Arthur promises Dexter that he will leave the boy’s innocence intact--which in Trinity language can’t mean anything good.

Deb invites Christine Hill to the department to hold their interview. She ends up turning the tables on Christine, however, when she takes her into an interrogation room and has Batista listen in. When Deb takes out photos of Lundy’s dead body, Christine panics and abruptly calls off the interview. Even more incriminating?  She can’t explain how she got to the crime scene as fast as she did.

Batista now agrees with Deb that Christine must have been involved, especially since she’s the same height as Deb and Lundy’s shooter. Not willing to give up, Deb convinces Quinn to give her Christine’s tooth brush in order to get a DNA sample. And guess what they find? That Christine is related to Trinity, of course.

Realizing the cops are on her tail, Christine panics and calls Daddy. This is where the show needed to do some explaining. Apparently, she wasn’t doing her father’s dirty work, or he wasn’t the one ordering her to do it. She doesn’t even know the extent of her father’s homicidal past--only about the bathtub murders, which she pieced together off the basis of a childhood memory. For reasons not yet clear, Arthur keeps her away from his other family and only visits her a handful of days a year, and Christine is starved for his attention and crazed by daughterly devotion. This led her to help “protect” her father and murder Lundy.

She admits this much to Arthur, who acts touched and tells her they’ll figure out how to deal with the police. Once he drives away, however, it’s a different story, and his true evil side emerges. It’s clear he plans to do away with her later on, rather than comfort her. Now that his guard also is down with Dexter, it’s particular fun watching John Lithgow play the bad guy.

Arthur takes the young boy to a bomb shelter at a deserted house and forces him to wear pajamas, listen to music from the '60s and answer to the name of “Arthur.” It’s supremely creepy. In every “kill cycle,” he abducts a boy the same age he was when his sister died, and kills him five weeks before the time he had caused his sister’s death 30 years prior. Lastly, he doses him out with medication, zips him up in a duffle bag, and drops him alive into a block of wet cement. So this is what he means about “preserve his innocence.”

Luckily, Dexter is there to prevent this from happening, but Trinity still gets away. We cut to Christine’s house, where she’s pacing nervously when the doorbell rings. We’re to assume it’s Arthur, but in fact it’s Miami Metro coming to arrest her.

In essence, nothing too exciting happened on “Lost Boys.” It seemed to take its sweet time with Dexter tracking Arthur, and even a boring side story with (who else?) Rita and Cody. (Did I mention the insufferable downer that is James Remar as Dexter’s father, Harry Morgan?) It’s nice to see Jennifer Carpenter up to her usual hilarious brilliance as Deb, especially now that her mourning period for Lundy is over and she can return to her crass self. Despite the slow pace of “Lost Boys,” however, the tension is there. Now, there’s only two episodes for “Dexter” to show us it still knows how to use it.