I can recommend the Dexter series. I just saw it myself.
Dexter Morgan is a CSI in Miami. He loves his job. The blood spatter tells him stories that won’t tell anyone else. He’s a real master. In his spare time, he drinks beer with his sister Deb and goes to see his girlfriend Rita. Except he doesn’t feel love. He can’t feel love or pity or compassion because Dexter Morgan is a psychopath. He’s a psychopath who kills the ones who walked away from justice.
Each season Miami police catches a new dodgy criminal with an interesting backstage, while Dexter, meanwhile, does his darkest work, while trying to pretend to be normal in the eyes of his colleagues, his sister and his girlfriend. For the most part, he even does it.
And then some crazy stuff starts. It’s hard to avoid spoilers in a review of the show, but I’ll try. After one turning point in Dexter’s life, the viewer suddenly realizes with each episode more and more that something’s wrong. That either all four previous seasons have lied to us about what Dexter is a sociopath and how he can’t love and feel in general, or we began to drive some game, starting with season five. Everything falls into place when it turns out that the four seasons were filmed from perfectly written books, and then there was some sort of slacker and very clumsy introduction of some unconvincing characters, and also a sudden disregard of Dexter in relation to those whom he swore to protect and love.
The strongest and most impressive for me was season one and four. What a dramaturgy. That’s the tragedies worthy of Shakespeare. I think at least that’s what the show’s worthy of attention for. Especially if you prefer to watch some character development.
Ozark