Pushing Daisies Delights in Its Second and, Sadly, Final Season

The 2007-2008 Writers Guild of America Strike shut down production on shows across America, with the result that many series wound up dramatically shorter than they otherwise would have been. I was very bummed out to lose about three episodes of LOST, but I think that most of what was missing from the fourth season, such as Miles’ backstory, was worked into the fifth. Sadly, for some series, picking up and dusting off wasn’t so easy. The strike killed the building momentum for Pushing Daisies, which started out as one of the most promising and acclaimed shows of the season. While the series lasted another season, it never really found its footing again in terms of ratings, and a fascinating, exuberant series got cut short.

Pushing Daisies is the story of Ned (Lee Pace), a shy pie maker with a secret: he can revive the dead. He discovered this during his childhood, as we see in one of the flashbacks that usually opens the shows. Whenever he touches the dead, they spring back to life in whatever condition they died in. If he touches them again, they return to their deceased state, never to awaken again. However, if he allows them to survive past one minute, someone else will die in their place, even though his touching them again will still kill them. If the party involved is a person, another person will soon drop dead. If it’s an animal, another animal of comparable size is not long for this world. It’s a lot of responsibility for one unassuming guy to handle.

Still, he makes the best of it. His rare ability allows him to buy rotten fruit extremely cheap, then bring it back to full, glorious life. Of course, the downside of this is that he can never eat his own pies - though surely he could reserve a bit of properly ripe fruit for himself. I don’t know how I could stand to make such delicious pies and never eat them. The pies are a visual spectacle, as is the shop itself, which is in the shape of a pie, and just about every other element of the show. Everything is intended to dazzle the eyes in much the same way that a Tim Burton movie like Big Fish does. The creator this time is Bryan Fuller, and his fairy tale vision for this world never falters. With each episode, it feels as though you are stepping into a Technicolor dream world. Adding to that impression is the warm, funny narration provided by Jim Dale, best known by many as the man behind the American Harry Potter audiobooks.

One of the most colorful characters in the series is Olive Snook (Kristen Chenoweth), who works in the pie shop with Ned and is, as she sings in the first season, “hopelessly devoted” to him. She adores the kind but emotionally distant Ned, and her flashy outfits are part of her attempt to capture his attention, in much the same way as Clark’s smitten best friend Chloe keeps changing her hairstyle in the early seasons of Smallville. Her outfits tend to be a little less ostentatious in the second season, during which she has grown used to the presence of Chuck (Anna Friel), Ned’s sheltered, rather tomboyish childhood chum whose sweet-as-honey demeanor makes it impossible for Olive to truly dislike her, despite their romantic rivalry. It was never much of a rivalry anyway, since Ned never gave Olive any real reason to hope for a relationship with him and since he and Chuck have been practically attached at the hip since she mysteriously arrived on the scene.

What Olive does not know is that Chuck is dead, or at least was dead. Ned resurrected her as a part of a murder investigation undertaken with the acerbic detective Emerson Cod (Chi McBride), not realizing who she was. Once he did, he couldn’t bear to return her to the coffin. While one would think anyone given this new lease on life would be inclined to get as far away from the gravest threat to her existence as possible, Chuck loves Ned as deeply as he loves her, so they find a way to make their relationship work, being careful to never touch each other. They manage to come pretty darn close to physical contact, sometimes sharing a smooch with a bit of plastic between them, but there are definite restrictions to what they can do. Their love for one another is so wholesome and chaste, it’s gotta be one of the most tender and G-rated romances in prime time history.

The second season features thirteen wonderfully quirky episodes in which Emerson teams up with Ned, along with Chuck and occasionally Olive, to solve several puzzling murders. In some ways, Pushing Daisies is a procedural, but every situation is so unique and the dialogue is so punchy that the formula never gets tired, especially after just 22 episodes. For instance, the season opener finds Ned, Chuck and Emerson trying to wriggle their way into Betty’s Bees, a company that makes honey-based products. We learned in season one that Chuck was an avid beekeeper, so this seems like a natural environment for her. For me, it’s rather traumatic, since bees and I don’t exactly see eye to eye, and it’s more than flinch-worthy to watch scenes of people covered from head to toe in buzzing bees. The design of the company is spectacular, though, and this episode also introduces an early season two story arc that I especially love: an extended spoof on The Sound of Music, a real contender for my favorite movie ever, with a bit of the marvelous Sister Act thrown in.

Olive, wanting to distance herself from Ned, joins a convent on the advice of Chuck’s abrasive aunt Lily (Swoosie Kurtz), who has divulged to Olive that she is actually Chuck’s mother, a fact that would shock not only Chuck but also Lily’s naive sister Vivian (Ellen Greene), who was in a lengthy relationship with Chuck’s father. In the convent, where she is given a habit of gorgeous blue, Olive tries to keep a low profile - aside from a bit of inevitable mountaintop singing - and become spiritually centered. However, trouble finds her soon enough when one of her fellow sisters dies, prompting her to enlist Emerson’s services.

This ultimately leads to her leaving the convent, but it also means we get to spend an entire episode - Bad Habits - there, causing Chuck to do some hard thinking, reminiscent of Edward in the Twilight series, about whether her resurrection has so violated the natural order of things that her soul has been imperiled. The episode also adds another member to the gang of regulars: Pigby, a truffle-hunting pig, who becomes fast friends with Ned’s ageless dog Digby, the Richard Alpert of Pushing Daisies who evidently is just as wise, since he somehow has the smarts and self-control to make certain that he never comes into physical contact with his master.

Family connections often take center stage in the second season. Emerson’s mother (Debra Mooney) comes calling and gives us a better sense of what makes him tick. Emerson’s tart tongue is just as twisty in season two; I don’t know how McBride managed to spit out half those lines without tripping up. But his softer side shows more often now, and every now and again, he pulls out the pop-up book that he hopes will lead his estranged daughter back to him. Meanwhile, although Chuck has forgiven Ned for his accidental role in her father’s death, she longs for a chance for closure, and after he reluctantly grants it, she manages to hoodwink Ned into allowing her to keep him alive indefinitely. At the same time, her family’s secrets risk exposure when her father’s old friend pays a visit to Vivian and Lily. Ned learns that he has twin half-brothers and tries to become a part of their life, while there are hints that his own father, whose relationship with him was so troubled, may be prepping for a reappearance. Because the show got the chop so soon, some of these storylines don’t find any resolution, while others are rushed. This is a definite shame, but I think Fuller and his team did the best they could under the circumstances.

Along with fascinating set pieces that immerse us in a totally unique landscape in each episode, we have guest stars who liven up each investigation. Eric Stonestreet of Modern Family puts in an appearance as the scooter-bound judge of a baking competition in which Ned and Olive take part. Comfort Food also includes a character who is a rather grotesque spoof of Colonel Sanders and a poignant rendition of the Bangles’ Eternal Flame by Olive. In Oh Oh Oh... It‘s Magic, Fred Willard, who seems to have managed to work his way onto just about every television series out there, plays the magician who has been looking after Ned’s brothers.

In Window Dressed to Kill, George Segal and Richard Benjamin make a big impression as Roy and Jerry, the petty criminals who accidentally kidnapped Olive when she was a little girl and have remained her pen pals ever since. Now that they’ve escaped from prison, Olive is determined to help them start a new life. Meanwhile, Ned agrees to pretend that they’re engaged, as she had indicated in her letters, and frustrates Chuck and Emerson by refusing to use his “superpower”. This episode also includes David Arquette as Randy Mann, who appears in several episodes as an eccentric taxidermist who is a potential love interest for Olive.

Aside from Olive‘s stay in the convent, I think my favorite episode may be The Legend of Merle McQuoddy, which delightfully riffs on Pete’s Dragon. I’ve never actually listened to the Harry Potter audiobooks, so my primary association with Jim Dale is the role of scheming medicine man Doc Terminus in that 1977 Disney musical. Pushing Daisies aired on ABC, so technically it, too, is under the banner of Disney, and with that actor such an important, albeit unseen, part of the show, evidently Fuller saw fit to honor one of the great Disney classics with an episode. The name McQuoddy is a play on the town Passamaquoddy, where Pete’s Dragon is set, and the climax of the episode occurs at the top of a lighthouse in the pouring rain. Just in case viewers didn’t catch the references on their own, the show lays the source of inspiration on thick by having an a cappella group in rain slickers suddenly appear and burst into Candle on the Water, the movie’s most memorable song. This was one of the episodes that I didn’t see until after I received the DVD for Christmas, so it was fresh in my mind when I learned that the fourth episode of LOST’s final season would be entitled Lighthouse. Evidently, great shows think alike!

It’s a real shame that Pushing Daisies died off before it could pull off more fantastic tributes like the episode above and that it only barely had the opportunity to give viewers a proper ending. The last few minutes of the final episode feel tacked on, with sub-par special effects and a hasty wrap-up of all the major dangling storylines. Again, given the constraints, I think it’s the best that fans could hope for, though I can’t help wishing that a movie or at least a comic book could be made that explores the story more fully. Pushing Daisies may be a show centered around death, but it was one of the most joyous series I’ve ever seen, and I catch myself smiling whenever I think about it. If only Ned’s fantastic finger had the power to revive this show.

House's Foundation Begins to Crumble

I'm turning into a real couch potato. With the exception of Friday - and even Friday has something to tempt me with Ghost Whisperer - I'm glued to the TV every night of the week. Heroes on Monday. Ugly Betty on Thursday - while we tape Smallville at the same time. American Idol and, more importantly, LOST on Wednesday. And American Idol and House on Tuesday. Both of these shows have begun to lose their luster for me, but I continue to watch them faithfully, partly because it's an excuse for my friend Libbie and me to get together. House really fell into a stellar deal by ending up just after American Idol in the lineup. I'd never heard of it until the spring of its first season, when Idol came along behind it to massively boost viewership. Would it have made it otherwise? I have major doubts.

I keep watching House mainly because of the main character. Hugh Laurie makes a fantastically cantankerous curmudgeon, and we are extra alert whenever he is on screen, which is most of the time. Like Simon Cowell, House is a master maligner, flinging colorful insults at everyone he meets and scarcely letting a remark go by without a snappy sarcastic comeback. He's marvelously entertaining. Yet by the second season, I had rather hoped to be watching the show for more than just the weekly barrage of one-liners. There are a few story arcs and a bit of character development, but for the most part, the show is just as episodic and formulaic as before. In every episode, somebody shows up with some mysterious ailment, and after one or several incorrect diagnoses, House and his team hit upon the answer at the last minute, almost invariably leading to a full recovery.

While House remains by far the most commanding presence, with his arresting blue eyes and his barking voice with no trace of Laurie's British accent, all the other major players from season one return and add interest. I like the evolution of Dr. Chase (Jesse Spencer) the best. An arrogant young Australian, he's a real pain throughout much of the first season, but in season two he begins to soften up, becoming more of a decent guy and not stabbing people in the back as he did in the past. Dr. Foreman (Omar Epps), like House and Chase, has issues with his father, and we get some emotional scenes of them together toward the end of the season. I'm not sure what to think of his character; he's ambitious and aloof, and his attitude near the conclusion of the season really grates on me, and I think it has something to do with the unpleasant way in which Dr. Cameron (Jennifer Morrison) begins to change.

Back in season one, she was unassuming, quiet and gentle. In the second season, she begins her descent into the barely likable character we see in season three, by which she and Chase seem to have swapped dispositions. She becomes hard-edged, always fiercely looking out for herself and increasingly locking heads with the others. She also seems to pick up a major dose of hormones along the way - or maybe it's all pent-up frustration for the fact that she and House can't make a relationship work. Bad things do happen to her in season two. She gives up what little hope she may have harbored about winning House's affection when his old girlfriend Stacy (Sela Ward) pops up and starts working at the hospital. Foreman essentially steals a paper she wrote and then, rather than apologizing for it, informs her that they are merely colleagues and will never be friends. Oh, and she almost winds up with AIDS. So it's a bad year for her, but I still hate to see her turn away from the sweetness of the first season.

House's boss, Dr. Cuddy (Lisa Edelstein), continues to rage against House for his defiant indiscretions, even as she defends his behavior as a necessary evil in the interest of helping hopeless cases. Easy-going Dr. Wilson (Robert Sean Leonard) is my favorite of the side-liners, and the second season has some fun with him when he moves in with House and his patience with his obnoxious friend is sorely tested.

Despite the various problems facing the characters - including deadly diseases - I never really found myself saying, "Gee, I can't wait until next week so I can see how this turns out." It didn't infect my psyche the way more compelling shows like LOST and Smallville have, and just within the context of this show, none of the second-season arcs riveted me as much as the first-season ordeal with corrupt millionaire Ed Vogler (Chi McBride). The season finale is a definite cliff-hanger, but the first episode of the third season, while boasting an emotional and uplifting ending, doesn't really tie up the loose ends very well.

House really didn't improve with its second season, and if it weren't for American Idol, I have my doubts as to whether it would still be around. But as long as House keeps being an insufferable git with an impressive vocabulary and razor-sharp wit, something tells I'm going to keep watching.

Leavin' On a Jet Plane, Don't Know When He'll Be Back Again

I am drawn to movies for a variety of reasons. One of them, which does not happen terribly often and is perhaps a silly excuse to see a movie, is that the preview contains a song that I like very much. It was the playing of Simon and Garfunkel’s America in the trailer that first attracted me to Almost Famous, and it was the melodic strains of a lovely cover of John Denver’s Leavin’ on a Jet Plane that grabbed my attention when I first saw a trailer for The Terminal. I cannot claim, however, that my interest stemmed from the song alone. I am generally a big fan of both Steven Spielberg and Tom Hanks. Throw John Williams into the mix, and that’s one heck of a winning combination. I added it to my list of films I wanted to see.

I suspected that I probably wouldn’t catch The Terminal while it was still in the theater, but Mom proposed a trip to Tinseltown as a capper to Father’s Day, with this as the movie of choice. I’ve heard and read a number of negative reviews of this movie, though my favorite critic, Good Morning America’s Joel Siegel, loved it. As is generally the case, I agree with him. This will probably not go down as one of the major films in either Hanks’ or Spielberg’s career, but it is a perfectly enjoyable movie nonetheless.

Hanks turns in one of his most endearing performances yet as Viktor Navorsky, the gentle traveler from the fictional Krakozhia who becomes stuck in limbo at the airport when a coup breaks out in his homeland and his visa is declared invalid. He comes across as a very simple man, partly because his command of the English language, even at its best, is shaky, but also because of the naive decency he constantly displays. It’s not that this character lacks intelligence, but rather that he boasts a certain spark that can’t help but touch many of the airport denizens with whom he comes into regular contact. In addition to his overabundance of common courtesy, his skills as a builder and artisan are considerable and help him to pass his days in the airport in a useful manner.

Though Hanks is the film’s focal point and his performance is a brilliant mixture of befuddlement, devotion, charity and charm, the supporting cast members all enhance the film with their unique characterizations. Stanley Tucci brings an interminable twerpiness to the role of Frank Dixon, the airport administrator who antagonizes Viktor after the latter refuses to enter the United States through illegal or dishonest means. He’s an annoying fellow who generally lacks both common sense and compassion, yet Tucci brings a comedic touch to the role that prevents us from disliking him too much.

Catherine Zeta-Jones plays Amelia Warren, a stewardess with a knack for landing in bad relationships. Viktor is smitten with her on their first meeting, while she gradually comes to realize that he is unlike the men she has unsuccessfully romanced in the past. Although they have several sweet scenes together, the female cast member I most enjoyed was Zoe Saldana as Delores Torres, the icy security clerk softened by Viktor’s visits to her as romantic liason for his lovestruck friend, food service worker Enrique Cruz (Diego Luna). When she finally melts entirely, she is luminous.

Along with Enrique, Viktor bonds with Joe Mulroy (Chi McBride), a gentle baggage handler, and Gupta (Kumar Pallana), a crusty old janitor who gets his jollies from watching people slip on his freshly mopped floors. These three help Viktor navigate his way through life in the airport, providing equal helping of heart and humor along the way. Also very enjoyable is Barry Shabaka Henley as Ray Thurman, Dixon’s personal assistant. He is the first major character we meet after Viktor, and his quiet, sometimes statuesque manner stand in contrast to Dixon’s manic panic. Although his interactions with Viktor are limited, Thurman subtly demonstrates to the audience Ray’s growing respect and affection for the unintended guest. Aside from Hanks, he probably gave my favorite performance in the film.

Although this is a drama, at no point could I take the movie as seriously as, say, The Green Mile or Forrest Gump. There is a fairy tale air about it. We never have a sense of Viktor being in any real danger or discomfort. He’s such an easy-going guy, it seems as though he would be content in any circumstance, and if you’re going to be stuck somewhere for weeks on end, an airport isn’t such a bad place to be stuck in. Moreover, Viktor’s ability to re-align rows of chairs to his liking, support and repaint an entire wall and construct an intricate work of art on airport property without being stopped seems highly suspect. But it didn’t bother me. Balancing out the more unnatural aspects of the film are brand-name establishments, which reeks of product placement to some but which made it easier for me to accept this as a functioning current-day airport.

I found The Terminal to be funny and heart-warming. I enjoyed hearing Hanks take on an accent other than some sort of Southern dialect, and the character he produced stands among my favorites of his. Although the film is rated PG-13, there is little within its two-hour span to merit that rating. The profanity in the film is unusually sparse, there are only a few passing references that would make a prude squirm and the most violence we see is some silent video footage of a war-torn Krakozhia. With a cast of fine actors and an engaging story, The Terminal is a feel-good, family-friendly movie that I would readily recommend.