High School Nemeses Reunite in You Again

When I was in high school, I was pretty easily identifiable as a nerd. Happily, however, I never had a nemesis striving to make my school days miserable. This can’t be said of Marni (Kristen Bell), the main character in the 2010 comedy You Again, written by Moe Jelline and directed by Andy Fickman. She most definitely had a tormenter, and she is horrified to learn, after a few years away from home making it big at a PR firm, that her beloved older brother Will (James Wolk) is about to marry Joanna (Odette Annable), the woman who bullied her so relentlessly in high school. Even more galling, Joanna claims not to remember her.

Marni is furious and determined to break up the impending nuptials. She doesn’t buy Joanna‘s nice-girl act one bit. Meanwhile, as she plots sabotage, her mother (Jamie Lee Curtis) discovers that Joanna‘s aunt (Sigourney Weaver) is her very own high school chum, with whom her relationship went sour. While the middle-aged women try to keep their hostility for one another veiled, Marni scarcely disguises her contempt for her sister-in-law-to-be. Caught in the crossfire of all these negative vibes is good-natured Will. Is there any hope for his marriage?

This movie boasts a cast full of A-listers, which I’m guessing is the main reason that the first time my friend and I tried to rent it, all 20-odd copies were out. In addition to Bell, Weaver and Curtis, there’s Victor Garber as Marni‘s father, who is gently befuddled by all the drama unfolding around him; Kristin Chenoweth as a vivacious dance instructor helping the family prepare for the big reception; and Betty White as Bunny, Marni‘s zesty grandmother. Though less of a big name, I also recognized Wolk from the short-lived drama Lone Star, and he fares well in providing much of the movie’s heart. All of the actresses turn in primarily comedic performances, with slapstick particularly prevailing toward the end.

I found each of the main quartet to be fairly likable, though all of them stoop at some point to ludicrous behavior. Although I sympathized with her, I found Marni the most abrasive of the characters, and I was a little turned off by the extent of her grudge against Joanna. Granted, she suffered great abuse in high school, and certainly an apology is warranted, but some of her actions are still inexcusable. But then the movie’s premise wouldn’t really work if everybody took the high road. This is a movie that requires a massive catfight followed by reconciliation.

White is hilarious as always here, stealing whatever short scenes she has. Annable is the only major cast member I didn’t recognize, and she does a good job of making her character likable despite what we know about her past. Some of the humor is pretty absurd, but I laughed several times, and I enjoyed the heartwarming bits as well. I’m glad we didn’t give up after our first rental attempt because You Again is plenty of fun.

Relive the Magic of Pushing Daisies Through Its Enchanting Soundtrack

In its all-too-short two seasons, ABC’s Pushing Daisies consistently delivered witty, warm-hearted viewing. Every element of the show came together to create a perfect whole, and that includes the music. With one of the most distinctive scores in prime time, it shouldn’t have surprised me that Pushing Daisies released a soundtrack; nonetheless, I was startled to stumble upon it while browsing through my library’s music collection.

Over the course of 32 tracks, composer Jim Dooley and the Hollywood Studio Symphony, conducted by Tim Davies, weave a magical spell. It all begins with the main title, with the suspenseful brass and strings giving way to the gentle waltz that comes up again and again. In just a few notes, it evokes the feeling of blossoming - both new life, bestowed through Ned’s touch, and renewed love between him and his childhood sweetheart Chuck. It has an epic air of romance and antiquity about it that reminds me of the score for the opening scene in Disney’s Beauty and the Beast.

This tender thread is most prominent in the tentative Lying in the Dark; the sweet Pie Hole Holding; Morgue to Love, which intercuts with the more mysterious music; the affectionate but perilous Plastic Kiss; the initially delicate Play-Doh Dreaming; the romantic Park Picnic; and Hands Against the Wall, the very brief final track. Waltzes also come into play in the nostalgic Young Ned’s Dissection and the breezy Chucky Bees, as well as Waltz, which evokes the setting of a 1940s formal dance, and the sweeping Olive and Alfredo.

In contrast with Ned and Chuck’s tender theme, we have the punchy music indicative of crusty detective Emerson Cod. This is generally jazzy and reminds me of Henry Mancini’s Pink Panther music. Short bursts of bass, finger-snapping and keyboard are hallmarks of these tracks, which include Lefty Arrives; Jeanine Pie; Emerson and the B*tches (that‘s dogs, folks...); Knitt Witt; Who’s Smoking? and Don’t Mess With the Pie Hos.

Others present a more general aura of mystery and suspense. There’s the illuminating Chuck’s News Flash; the fast-paced Where’s My Briefcase?; the creeping, accordion-tinged Homeopaths; the ominous Poor Customer Service; the spooky, harpsichord-filled Happy Halloween; the furtive Follow the Yellow Thick Hose; and the threatening Institution Omnibus.

Other tracks have a unique sound. Chuck’s Swing feels, appropriately enough, like a big-band swing dance, while Bittersweets sounds like a slightly demented carousel ride. Wilfred Woodruff’s War makes one think of intense, carefully plotted battles, with unusual instrumentation ranging from banjos and whistles to march-like percussion. Jason Lucas Diamonds does some strange things with the guitar, while Death Came is accompanied by what sounds like an assault of squeaky toys and Victor Narrowmore creatively incorporates a typewriter.

Along with the instrumental music, we have three vocal tracks that actually start off the album. The opening track is from one of my very favorite moments in the first season, when Ellen Greene’s gentle, despondent Aunt Lily, aided by the considerate Olive, allows herself to embrace life again for the first time since her beloved niece’s death. Morning Has Broken has always been one of my favorite hymns, and all that vibrant imagery about fresh life feels incredibly fitting on a show that is so much about starting again. Greene’s performance is exceptional, first hesitant, then exuberant, and it felt particularly meaningful when the episode initially aired the day before Thanksgiving.

Also included are Hopelessly Devoted to You, sung with heartfelt affection by Kristin Chenoweth’s lovelorn Olive Snook, and Greene and Chenoweth’s infectiously cheerful duet on They Might Be Giants’ Birdhouse in Your Soul, a song as sweetly daffy as the show itself. Ever since I popped in the CD last week, this one has been running through my head, and I don‘t mind.

Pushing Daisies is long off prime time now, but this soundtrack offers another opportunity for those who fell under its enchantment to recapture the magic.

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.

Glee Lives Up to Its Name in its First 13 Episodes

Last May, around the time LOST and American Idol were wrapping up, FOX provided a preview to whet my appetite for fall television, making me a little less annoyed at having to wait until January for the return of my favorite shows. Years ago, I watched The Glee Club, a season three episode of The Wonder Years in which a naive teacher tries to turn Kevin and his fellow eight-graders into a functional choir, and to this day I think it’s one of the most disastrously hilarious television episodes I’ve ever seen, so I figured that Glee, a series seemingly born out of a similar premise, had plenty of potential. Except boy, can those kids in Glee sing!

Glee, created by Ryan Murphy, Brad Falchuk and Ian Brennan, is an hour-long musical dramedy that, like Ugly Betty and Pushing Daisies, seems just a step away from reality. Of course, there’s the bursting-into-song-in-the-middle-of-the-hallway thing, but there’s also the outrageous behavior of some of the characters, none more so than Sue Sylvester (Jane Lynch), the demented cheerleading coach who is a veritable fount of startling statements. Ruthless and competitive, she immediately sees red when idealistic Spanish teacher Will Schuester (Matthew Morrison) decides to revive the Glee Club he so loved when he attended McKinley High School a decade and a half earlier. She fears that if the club succeeds, it will divert both resources and acclaim away from her “Cheerios,” and there is nothing she won’t do to sabotage Will’s efforts.

But Will is one determined guy. With a passion for music and for making a difference in the lives of troubled teens, he assembles a ragtag team of misfits, only just enough to qualify the group to compete at Sectionals in the mid-season finale. (Frankly, this is one of the most unbelievable aspects of the show for me. After seven years of American Idol and three installments of High School Musical, I can’t quite accept that only a dozen students in the entire school want to join the Glee Club, and that nearly everyone else in the student body regards each member of that club as the epitome of loserdom.) Most prominent among his singers are Finn Hudson (Cory Monteith) and Rachel Berry (Lea Michele). To a certain extent, I think these two get a little more screen time than they deserve, to the exclusion of their equally talented castmates. But there’s no denying their talent.

Finn is cut out of the same mold as Troy, the basketball-dribbling crooner Zac Efron plays in High School Musical. His game of choice is football, and at the beginning of the series, he is most definitely one of the cool kids. But when Will overhears him singing in the locker room shower, he knows he can’t let that talent slip out of his fingers and reels Finn in through his laughable gullibility. He stays, though, because he really does love to sing and finds it freeing to spend so much time among people who accept him for who he really is. Finn, who has been raised by his devoted mother and a series of her boyfriends, is an incredibly sweet-natured boy who is gentlemanly, courteous and ethical. When faced with the choice between being hip and being considerate, he nearly always chooses the latter. Unfortunately, his easy-going, overly trusting nature leads him to be taken in by his not-nearly-as-perfect-as-she-seems girlfriend Quinn Fabray (Dianna Agron), whose contemptuous treatment of him throughout this first half-season despite his stalwart loyalty to her is the biggest strike against her.

Rachel isn’t quite as lovable as Finn, simply because she is such a diva. A Barbra Streisand wannabe, she’s spent most of her young life preparing for stardom, under the watch of her doting dads, who we have yet to meet. Consequently, she is incredibly talented but equally unpopular. The more she seeks attention through methods like going online and posting a steady stream of videos of her singing, the more derision she invites. She seems to have been born to be the Glee Club’s star member. But that doesn’t sit so well with the other singers in the group, who are tired of always being upstaged. Scarcely an episode passes in which Rachel does not severely grate on my nerves, but the feeling always passes, since in many ways she is a very kind-hearted girl. She harbors a thinly veiled crush on Finn, and, considering how he is being taken advantage of in his existing relationship, it’s hard to resist rooting for the two of them to have a shot together, especially when they clearly have so much natural chemistry.

While Quinn, the straight-laced daughter of strict parents, is to be pitied for the unfortunate situation in which she finds herself, what’s deplorable is the way she deceives Finn and doesn’t even treat him with a greater degree of respect for standing by her after she informs him that he is the father of her unborn baby, even though he, out of respect for her religious convictions and role as the president of the Chastity Club, remains a virgin. Clearly the boy needs some remedial biology. Quinn, having made a stupid mistake while intoxicated, cheated on Finn with his best friend Noah “Puck” Puckerman (Mark Salling), a macho football player who uses his pool-cleaning business to snag cougars. Though joining the Glee Club brings out his sensitivity, he’s definitely the bad boy of the bunch.

On the opposite end of the spectrum is Kurt Hummel (Chris Colfer), described by one character as looking like “an eleven-year-old milkmaid”. With his soft, high voice and acute attentiveness to the world of fashion, he reminds me of Justin, the flamboyant nephew on Ugly Betty. Like Rachel, Kurt has dreams of singing glory, though he fears that pursuing them too far might pain his father (Mike O‘Malley), a widowed mechanic. Throughout the season, he navigates the rough waters of his identity, trying out football in an effort to please his very masculine dad and struggling with his unrequited affection for Finn. He also must figure out how to deal with the amorous advances of Mercedes Jones (Amber Riley), a plus-sized tour de force who pours her soul into her songs and is most disdainful of Rachel’s leading role in the club. Sassy but sweet, Mercedes has a deep kinship with him. Among the club members, she’s one of the most likely to extend a spontaneous hand in empathy.

While there are twelve students in the club, the only remaining member who has been fleshed out much to date is Artie “Wheels” Abrams (Kevin McHale), a deep-voiced boy with thick glasses who has been relegated to a wheelchair since he was in a car accident several years earlier. His lower register is so much deeper than anyone else’s in the group, it makes a wonderful impact upon the harmonies during group numbers. His unique situation is the focus of Wheels, arguably the most touching episode of the series thus far, which has Will insisting that the members of Glee Club come to school in wheelchairs in order to truly appreciate what he must go through each day; in a subplot, Sue reveals her softer side after she recruits a student with Down Syndrome to the Cheerios. The five remaining members include bubble-brained Brittany (Heather Morris), stuttering Tina Cohen-Chang (Jenna Ushkowitz), cheerleader Santana Lopez (Naya Rivera) and football players Matt Rutherford (Dijon Talton) and Mike Chang (Harry Shum).

While managing the dynamics of this diverse group of students, Will, a starry-eyed educator who already has earned a place among a list of inspiring fictional teachers, has his peers to deal with as well. Whenever Sue antagonizes him, he finds himself in the office of Principal Figgins (Igbal Theba), a mostly competent, ethical administrator doing his best do get by with limited resources. He thinks Will is crazy for starting up Glee Club again but grants his permission anyway, with certain conditions. Though he sometimes proves a stumbling block, more often than not he is in Will’s corner. Occasionally, Will comes into contact with Sandy Ryerson (Stephen Tobolowsky), the eccentric former leader of the Glee Club who now comes across just a hair shy of sociopathic. Eventually teaming up with Sue, he becomes a sort of shadow villain as the season progresses.

And then there is Emma Pillsbury (Jayma Mays), the guidance counselor who enjoys an easy rapport with Will and shares his concern for each member of the student body. Innocent and doe-eyed, she tries to hide her deep desire for her married co-worker, but it’s an open secret, particularly since there are times when the affection seems mutual. While burly, taciturn football coach Ken Tanaka (Patrick Gallagher) attempts to woo her away from Will, it’s clear even after she begins to date him that she only has eyes for the charming Glee Club director. And of all the potential romances on the show, theirs is the easiest to root for, given their extreme compatibility and tenderness. Except that Will is married. But his wife Terri (Jessalyn Gilsig) is so thoroughly shrewish, it’s hard to imagine how he ever could have fallen in love with her. His marital situation reminds me of the fairy tale-like It Could Happen To You; evidently both parties have changed since high school, and she took a turn for the worse while he honed his altruism. When she embarks upon a deception as audacious as Quinn’s in an attempt to salvage their deteriorating marriage, it seems even rockier times are inevitable for the couple.

While we mostly see the same people week after week, certain episodes have allowed for the addition of guest stars. My favorite among these is probably Victor Garber as Will’s supportive dad, though Kristen Chenoweth’s appearance as April Rhodes, a washed-up high school diva, is a nice salve after Pushing Daisies was so mercilessly cancelled and Josh Groban’s cameo as himself is a hoot.

If these characters were not so engrossing, both in terms of how they are written and how they are portrayed, we might not be so eager to embrace their musical stylings. As it is, however, the performances that fill each episode are a treat. Sometimes exuberant, often character-revealing, these musical numbers are not limited to the members of the Glee Club, though the students and Will are responsible for the majority of the songs. Will gets an unusual amount of time in the spotlight in Acafellas, when he forms a quartet, though perhaps my favorite of his performances is the hilariously icky mashup of Don’t Stand So Close to Me and Young Love, sung in an effort to dissuade Rachel from developing a schoolgirl crush on him.

Kurt soars as he battles Rachel in Defying Gravity, Puck gets a big smile out of me with his upbeat rendition of Sweet Caroline and Mercedes gives Jennifer Hudson a run for her money with her version of And I Am Telling You I’m Not Going. Finn and Rachel wind up with a duet in just about every episode, but it’s hard to beat their impassioned performance of Don’t Stop Believin’ from the Pilot. Of the group-oriented numbers, my favorites include the supportive Keep Holding On and Lean On Me; the heartfelt Imagine, performed with a deaf choir; the riotous Single Ladies dance put together by the floundering football team; and Proud Mary, which includes some rather impressive wheelchair choreography and puts Artie in the spotlight.

If you didn’t get to see Glee while it was on, I recommend giving it a shot on DVD. The second half of the season doesn’t begin until April, so you have plenty of time to catch up. With its captivating characters, complex plots that broach issues faced by many contemporary teens and exhilarating musical numbers, Glee is a show that truly lives up to its title.

Kristin Chenoweth's A Lovely Way to Spend Christmas Is What It Claims to Be

I first became aware of Kristin Chenoweth several years ago, probably via a performance in the Macy’s Day Parade or some similar vehicle, but it wasn’t until she landed a co-starring role as Olive, the flashy but sweet waitress who secretly pines for her pie-making boss in Pushing Daisies, that I really became a fan. The Emmy she received for her work on the sadly short-lived series was well-deserved. I especially loved the moments when the show afforded her an opportunity to show off her sensational singing voice.

Naturally, when I noticed that she had put out a Christmas album, I queued it up at the library. While I expected outstanding vocals on her part, I wasn’t sure what else I’d be getting. I was pleased to find an album of real substance, with a solid mix of the secular and sacred, the familiar and the little-known and an interesting mix of instruments. This album has given me several songs to keep a lookout for, along with an especially exquisite version of a longtime favorite.

I’ll Be Home for Christmas - Kristin does a good job of conveying the underlying yearning in this sax-driven number. A nice way to start the album.

Christmas Island - Her dramatic voice is ideally suited to this chipper reflection on the imagined loveliness of a Hawaiian Christmas. A chorus that flits in and out with “Mele Kalikimaka” helps set the mood.

The Christmas Waltz - A dreamy little number that really shows off Kristin’s pipes, in a nice understated sort of way.

Do You Hear What I Hear? - This is my second-favorite traditional Christmas song, so I was especially interested to hear Kristin’s take on it, and she sings it beautifully, harmonizing gorgeously with herself to delicate accompaniment that tinkles like gently falling snowflakes. An aside of Angels We Have Heard on High before the final verse accentuates the majesty of the moment nicely.

Sleigh Ride / Marshmallow World - This rather campy medley of 40s throwbacks is the only duet on the album, and she and John Pizzarelli sing together well and also engage in a bit of amusing banter.

Sing - Kristin is joined by several children for this Sesame Street classic. This wasn’t originally a Christmas song, but it’s appropriate considering all of the joyful feelings that come from singing Christmas carols, an activity that everyone ought to be free to enjoy equally whatever their talent level. Besides, this version does include some Christmas-specific lyrics. “Sing a Song / Make it last the whole year long / Sing of joy for mankind / Sing for peace for all time.”

Silver Bells - Kristin sings the often-overlooked intro, which is nice, though it’s when she gets to the more familiar portion that the song really takes off, with some nice, slightly honky-tonk piano and guitar helping her along.

Come On Ring Those Bells - A nice follow-up to Silver Bells, this lesser-known song incorporates bells throughout in a very country-flavored tune. A lovely a cappella portion precedes an ode to down-home family goodness and the true meaning of Christmas. I’d never heard this song before, and it’s a definite keeper. “Come on, ring those bells / Light the Christmas tree / Jesus is the king / Born for you and me. / Come on, ring those bells / Everybody say, / ‘Jesus, we remember / It’s your birthday.’”

What Child Is This? - Bagpipes and harps lend a Celtic flavor to this haunting tune, which Kristin sings beautifully. Its lullaby-ness is accentuated during the portion in which she softly hums the tune.

Home on Christmas Day - This wistful piano-driven reflection is an unfamiliar song about the desire for family to be together on Christmas. It reminds me of Trans-Siberian Orchestra’s Christmas Eve and Other Stories with its theme of wishing for a loved one to be home for Christmas and its emphasis on angels. “Angels calling from up high / Will bring a starry sky / To light the frosted ground below / So you will know your way.”

Born on Christmas Day - With a title just one word removed from the track before it, I’d never heard this song either, though it seems to have been covered by several prominent singers. Another piano-driven song, it focuses on the Nativity, and Kristin puts a lot of heart into her rendition, really letting loose toward the end. “This is the story, / The power and the glory. / Three wise men knelt to pray, / a guiding star had led the way. / There He lay, born on Christmas Day.”

Sleep Well Little Children / What a Wonderful World - The accompaniment on this medley ranges from gentle music-box instrumentals and Celtic pipes to rolling piano and melancholy strings. Kristin’s tender vocals pull the whole thing together into a lovely lullaby. “Sleep well, little children, / Pleasant dreams through the night. / Tomorrow is Christmas, / All merry and bright…”

For the most part, the first half of the album deals with traditional but not religious aspects of the holiday, while the second half reflects on Jesus in various ways. If Do You Hear What I Hear? had been shifted down a few tracks it would be an almost perfect division. But hearing that one fairly early on showed me where this album was heading, demonstrating the heights of loveliness Kristin is capable of. That is certainly my favorite of the familiar tracks, while the rollicking but reverent Come On Ring Those Bells edges out the other two new-to-me songs. Given her frequent appearances on A Prairie Home Companion, I shouldn’t be surprised that she has a taste for folksy, faith-driven tunes of this sort, but it caught me off-guard anyway. I feel like I’ve gotten deeper insights into her personality, and I like what I see. And most especially, I like what I hear. A Lovely Way to Spend Christmas indeed.