Before the code. Before the scalpel. Before the neatly wrapped garbage bags took their final plunge into Miami’s waters—there was just Dexter Morgan, a budding predator (or vigilante?) with a plastic-wrapped dream. Dexter: Original Sin rewinds the clock to a time when our favourite blood-spatter analyst was still learning the finer points of, well… dismemberment. This prequel series doesn’t just bring back the kill room glow; it lets us witness the messy, unpolished origins of the Dark Passenger in all its freshly carved glory. But does it deliver the precision of a scalpel, or is it as sloppy as a hastily wrapped torso?
Dexter: Original Sin slices its way onto our screens, picking up—sort of—where Dexter: New Blood left off. In the icy finale of New Blood (2021–2022), Harrison put a bullet in dear old dad, leaving him to bleed out in the snow. But Original Sin rewinds the carnage, whisking Dexter away to a hospital bed, where his mind drifts back to the moments that shaped him—the birth of the Dark Passenger, the art of the kill, and, of course, the fine art of ‘not getting caught’.
Michael C Hall may not be suiting up in his signature kill apron, but his unmistakable voice still slices through Dexter: Original Sin as the narrator, guiding us through young Dexter’s formative years. Patrick Gibson steps into the role of pre-med Dexter—who, at this point, has perhaps dismembered so much as a frog in biology class— before landing an internship under Miami Metro forensics lead Tanya Martin (Sarah Michelle Gellar). Deb (Molly Brown) is still a high schooler, their mother Doris is long gone, and Harry Morgan (Christian Slater) is juggling law enforcement with raising a son with ‘unconventional urges’ and a rebellious teenage daughter.
This isn’t ‘The Bay Harbor Butcher Begins’ just yet—Dexter is still learning the Code, still untested. But thanks to a fascinating array of flashbacks (this time from Harry’s perspective), we get new insights into his tragic past and his connection with Dexter’s mother, Laura (Brittany Allen), a cartel informant whose fate is already sealed. These flashbacks, bathed in a nostalgic green-and-orange grainy filter, instantly transport viewers back to the distinct Dexter aesthetic.
Of course, it’s Hall’s ever-present internal monologue that truly makes the show feel like home. Hearing his wry, self-aware observations while watching Gibson’s younger Dexter stumble through his first steps into vigilantism is a chef’s kiss—the key ingredient that makes Original Sin work as well as it does. Gibson’s performance isn’t just good—it’s eerily close to Hall’s, down to the micro-expressions and vocal cadences.
As for the rest of the cast? Molly Brown nails Deb’s teenage angst and relentless exasperation, though she’s shorter than Jennifer Carpenter (which slightly dampens Deb’s signature gangly chaos). Meanwhile, Miami Metro is back in action with Patrick Dempsey as Miami Metro Captain Aaron Spencer, and while some of the younger versions of familiar faces feel spot-on—Alex Shimizu’s Vince Masuka is as inappropriate as ever—others sometimes feel like they wandered in from a high-budget cosplay convention (looking at you, Angel Batista’s identical wardrobe).
But what really seals the deal is that Dexter formula we all know and love: a “monster of the week” structure interwoven with bigger, bloodier mysteries. A serial home-invasion killer. A kidnapped judge’s son. Cartel connections lurking in the shadows. Furthermore, the show doesn’t shy away from intellectual exploration, probing the nature of evil and the psychological underpinnings of Dexter’s compulsions. It raises thought-provoking questions about morality, identity and the human condition, inviting viewers to ponder the fine line between vigilante justice and cold-blooded murder.
Dexter: Original Sin peels back the plastic wrap to reveal how it all began—how Dexter perfected his ritual, why M-99, dismemberment and heavy-duty garbage bags became his signature, and the first whispers of the Dark Passenger. It’s not just Dexter’s origin story; it’s Miami Metro’s too. We see LaGuerta sharpening her political claws, Deb taking her first steps toward a badge, the Jimenez gang looming unscathed, and, of course, the fate of Brian—because no Dexter backstory would be complete without a little brotherly trauma.
And at the centre of it all, a young Dexter, still refining his methods, still figuring out exactly how to wield his Dark Passenger. It’s messy. It’s nostalgic. And it’s addictive.