Desperate Housewives
Oh, Season 3. I had thigh-high hopes for the Desperates this time around, but despite the many soap-opera staples the writers threw their way -- fetus mix-ups, produce-aisle shoot-ups, surprise weddings, surprise suicides, comas, judgmental butlers, and man rape -- the season was ultimately pretty boring. Maybe the transfusion of Dana Delany and, holy shit, Mal from Firefly will be enough to counterbalance the endless stultifying storylines like "Gaby vs. the Meter Man" or the "Great Scavo Pizzeria Uniform Tee-Shirt Wars"? My hopes, they are now only sigh-high. -- Evany
Dexter
Dexter's a pretty good guy: good boyfriend, good blood-spatter analyst for the Miami-Dade PD...just so happens he's also a pretty good serial killer, but that's not something he shares too readily with the people around him. After Dexter witnessed a traumatic event as a boy, bloodlust entered his life at an early age. Having realized this, his cop stepfather, Harry, trained him to use it for good by killing only people who would cause the deaths of others. In the freshman season of Dexter, our leading guy managed a damaged girlfriend and her two children and convict ex, a smart-but-at-times-annoying sister, randy and suspicious co-workers, and another serial killer with a propensity for ice trucks who seems to have Dex's number. All that and Dexter's most unsavory of hobbies make for a riveting and unexpectedly funny show about murky moral waters, delicate relationships, and good ol' fashioned honest police work. Michael C. Hall brings layers to the character that would certainly not exist with a lesser actor, and the show would suffer without him, but Julie Benz, Jennifer Carpenter, James Remar, and a bunch of actors from Oz (Erik King, David Zayas, Lauren Vélez) do a pretty damn good job holding down the ensemble portion of the show. -- Mr. Stupidhead
By The TWoP Staff
Desperate Housewives
Oh, Season 3. I had thigh-high hopes for the Desperates this time around, but despite the many soap-opera staples the writers threw their way -- fetus mix-ups, produce-aisle shoot-ups, surprise weddings, surprise suicides, comas, judgmental butlers, and man rape -- the season was ultimately pretty boring. Maybe the transfusion of Dana Delany and, holy shit, Mal from Firefly will be enough to counterbalance the endless stultifying storylines like "Gaby vs. the Meter Man" or the "Great Scavo Pizzeria Uniform Tee-Shirt Wars"? My hopes, they are now only sigh-high. -- Evany
Dexter
Dexter's a pretty good guy: good boyfriend, good blood-spatter analyst for the Miami-Dade PD...just so happens he's also a pretty good serial killer, but that's not something he shares too readily with the people around him. After Dexter witnessed a traumatic event as a boy, bloodlust entered his life at an early age. Having realized this, his cop stepfather, Harry, trained him to use it for good by killing only people who would cause the deaths of others. In the freshman season of Dexter, our leading guy managed a damaged girlfriend and her two children and convict ex, a smart-but-at-times-annoying sister, randy and suspicious co-workers, and another serial killer with a propensity for ice trucks who seems to have Dex's number. All that and Dexter's most unsavory of hobbies make for a riveting and unexpectedly funny show about murky moral waters, delicate relationships, and good ol' fashioned honest police work. Michael C. Hall brings layers to the character that would certainly not exist with a lesser actor, and the show would suffer without him, but Julie Benz, Jennifer Carpenter, James Remar, and a bunch of actors from Oz (Erik King, David Zayas, Lauren Vélez) do a pretty damn good job holding down the ensemble portion of the show. -- Mr. Stupidhead