Dead Boy Detectives
Dead Boy Detectives targets teens in style and story. But it comes with very adult, problematic content.
And Alex doesn’t know who she can trust—even Shelby.
See what I did there? I just yanked that thought from the middle of the review. If the only thing you knew about ABC’s Quantico was what you were reading right now, that sentence would make absolutely no sense hanging off by itself like that … but even so, you might be asking yourself, Who is Alex, and why can’t Shelby be trusted? Even if you do watch Quantico (and we should really have a talk about that later), perhaps you’re suspicious: What? Shelby? She’s totally trustworthy! Well, except for that affair with Caleb’s dad, but she surely didn’t have anything to do with the terrorist attack, right?
Such is the beauty and frustration of the trendy time-shifting television show—wherein you sorta know the beginning of the end when you’re in the beginning of the beginning, making both the end and the beginning utterly disorienting. ABC hopes that the resulting confusion, when confronted by our universal human desire to find some sort of solution to the riddle, will keep you compulsively tuning in.
To back up a bit: Quantico does indeed focus on a character named Alex: She is an FBI recruit who is, along with a bevy of telegenic peers, training at the FBI Academy in Quantico. Eight months later, she’s been wrongly accused of setting off a terrorist attack, and many of her one-time telegenic peers are either actively hunting her down or secretly helping her clear her name.
Shelby, Alex’s best friend, appears to fit in the latter category. At least for the moment. So does Ryan Booth, an FBI agent and one-time lover of Alex who now shares his personal space with Natalie Vasquez, Alex’s Quantico nemesis. Natalie, naturally, seems in league with the nefarious Caleb Haas, a training flunky who, oddly, seems largely in charge of the terrorist investigation. Then there’s Simon, the IT expert who isn’t gay but pretends he is; and Miranda Shaw, the FBI instructor whose kid seems intent on perpetrating a terrorist act of his own.
And we haven’t even yet talked about Nimah and Raina, twins who decided to enter Quantico as one person. (Just like The Parent Trap, only with national security ramifications.)
As the weeks drag on, we can expect secrets to be revealed and allegiances to shift. And for Alex to never quite know who she can trust. Even … well, you know.
It’s all very strange and confusing, though the most mystifying thing about the whole situation is how much critics like this show. According to Rotten Tomatoes, it’s holding down an 83% “freshness” rating at the time of this review—suggesting that the time-shifting trope is still an “innovation” in the cultural zeitgeist, rather than a “gimmick.”
Because, really, when you strip away these back-and-forth leaps along the linear narrative, Quantico is less prestige TV and more Pretty Little Liars—only with higher security clearance and lower self-awareness.
Professional objectives take a backseat to personal soap operas. The FBI Academy comes off as a randy summer camp, wherein the campers can get “busy” with whomever they want without any counselors making things difficult. Indeed, the onscreen sex can be, as we noted on our blog, quite graphic and super-casual. And these “kids” don’t stop having sex with one another just because a bomb blew up much of New York’s Grand Central Station, either. Most every agent (and the show itself) is clearly more preoccupied with who’s sleeping with whom than whether someone might be part of a sleeper cell.
In her ongoing effort to clear her name, Alex convinces Simon to hack into Caleb’s computer, learning that Shelby is having an affair with Clayton (Caleb’s father and the deputy director of the FBI). Meanwhile, Simon discovers that “Nimah” is actually a set of twins.
Ryan is shown kissing and showering with both Natalie and Alex. (A timeline jolt shows the two women with him back-to-back, as it were, and we see clothes being stripped off and lots of skin.) Ryan shares a bed with Natalie as well. Shelby and Caleb sleep together a lot at Quantico. (From the back, we see her putting on her bra and shirt after a roll in the hay, then both pull off their shirts for another.) Surveillance footage shows Shelby and Clayton kissing.
“He’s married!” Caleb tells Shelby later. “To my mom!”
“They’re not even living together,” Shelby retorts, insisting that both want a divorce.
When Shelby tells Alex that she doesn’t have any feelings for Caleb and that their relationship is one of pure physical fun, Nimah (a practicing Muslim who wears a hijab) expresses exasperation. “Why would someone go into an empty room and make love to someone who they have no connection to?” she asks. But her sister, Raina, has other ideas, revealing her hair to Simon—who also admits to the sisters that he’s not gay.
Sexual double entendres are thrown around, as are references to condoms. Surveillance methods aren’t always legal. We hear about Miranda’s son’s foiled attempt to shoot up a school. We see footage of a bomb exploding. Foul language includes “h—” (three or four times), as well as “a–” and “p—” (once or twice each). God’s name is misused a few times.
Paul Asay has been part of the Plugged In staff since 2007, watching and reviewing roughly 15 quintillion movies and television shows. He’s written for a number of other publications, too, including Time, The Washington Post and Christianity Today. The author of several books, Paul loves to find spirituality in unexpected places, including popular entertainment, and he loves all things superhero. His vices include James Bond films, Mountain Dew and terrible B-grade movies. He’s married, has two children and a neurotic dog, runs marathons on occasion and hopes to someday own his own tuxedo. Feel free to follow him on Twitter @AsayPaul.
Dead Boy Detectives targets teens in style and story. But it comes with very adult, problematic content.
An elf mage contemplates on connection and regret as she watches her human friends grow old and pass away.