During Wednesday’s Republican debate, I was hoping John King would draw out Rick Santorum about his beliefs regarding Satan, who, Santorum has said, “has his sights on the U.S.” Does Santorum think “the Father of Lies” is an actual supernatural being, and not just a metaphoric way to talk about evil with children and dumb people? If so, as president, would Santorum direct the Pentagon to develop anti-demon weapons? Would he ask the C.D.C. to research a deviltry vaccine? Would he shut down Pitchfork?

Most pressingly, how can anyone believe in an ascendant Satan but still deny global warming?

Sadly, King didn’t press Santorum on any of this—but even with its forays into the less colorful arcana of congressional earmarks and birth-control votes, the debate made for surprisingly riveting and often amusing spectacle. The drama was all in the set-up, with former shoo-in Mitt Romney now the underdog, hoping to take down also-ran turned front-runner Santorum. Newt Gingrich and Ron Paul were meanwhile relegated to supporting roles—the bitchy gay neighbors, perhaps, or Luis Guzman turning up for a few laughs as the drug kingpin’s low-level, motor-mouthed henchman.

This debate was promoted as a finale, so can we pause for a moment and offer thanks to the candidates for the sheer entertainment value of the entire campaign? (Yes, we can.) The 2008 Democratic primary was a brutal, bloody psychodrama that went on far too long. It could have been written by Eugene O’Neill. Happily, this year’s Republican campaign has unspooled more like an ingenious, well-written thriller—a plot full of twists, turns, and sudden reversals, and a cast stacked with vivid eccentrics. AMC’s terrific-until-it-wasn’t The Killing comes to mind: each episode brought a new prime suspect, just as the campaign each week coughs up a new front-runner. First Donald Trump, then Michele Bachmann, then Rick Perry, then Gingrich, then Herman Cain (right?), then Romney, then Gingrich again (no?), then Romney again (yes?), and now Santorum, for another day or two at least. (Did Jon Huntsman have a moment in there, too, or did I make that up?)

For Democrats, this has been almost too much of a good thing—a satirical, bleakly comic thriller wherein everyone ends up dead or compromised. Republicans should keep in mind The Killing’s fatal flaw: it went one red herring too far, and even the most committed of fans turned away in disgust.

The thing about long campaigns fought on silly distinctions is that the participants morph into caricatures of themselves—often voluntarily. Since I tend to look at the world through a scrim of old movies and TV shows, each of the four remaining candidates, to me, represents a shallow pop-cultural archetype: