Wednesday, October 3, 2007
Review: Pushing Daisies
This is a strange TV show. As I watched the premiere, I couldn't help but think of how I felt the first time I saw Edward Scissorhands: it's a little like peering into an alternate universe, where the rules are almost the same as here, but not quite. And where that's different than other shows where unbelievable things happen like, say, Heroes or Lost, is in the way the characters react to the weirdnesses.
For example, in the 1990 Tim Burton fantasy with Johnny Depp and Winona Ryder, you've got a main character with scissors for hands. That's weird! And yet people within the surburban neighbourhood in which he eventually ends up, don't really seem to find that so strange... especially if Edward uses his appendages to carve up nifty hedge statues for them! Kind of like the real world, and kind of not. In Pushing Daisies, the viewer is painstakingly lead through a Rules of the Game opening in which we're both shown and told - thanks to a fairly cheesy narration - exactly how Ned discovered and came to understand his unique ability. If you haven't already heard, central character Ned can touch any dead creature and bring it back to life. However, precisely one minute later, if Ned hasn't touched the re-animated flora or fauna a second time, causing it to resume being dead forever, then some other living creature in the area will die in its place. And the creature brought back to life initially will still end up dead if Ned ever touches it again. As rules go, those are pretty tight, albeit nonsensical (why exactly one minute? how is the alternate life decided? why manifest when the child is ten, or had he simply never noticed before then that he was bringing cut flowers back to life, for example?); so I give them points for tightness.
With the setup out of the way, it's time for someone to discover Ned's secret. Many years later, Ned, all grown up but seriously repressed from fear of touching anyone (not sure why he thinks it's bad to touch non-dead types, but whatever) is a pie-maker (cuz, see, his mother was making a pie when 10-year-old Ned accidentally killed her... twice!) Unfortunately, though, Ned's spotted accidentally re-animating and then de-animating (within that crucial sixty seconds) a freshly dead man. The onlooker who spies this strange turn of events, who just happens to be a private detective (ish), immediately sees an opportunity for easy money: have Ned wake a murder victim up just long enough to ask, "So, who killed you, anyway?" before a second touch and then off to collect the reward by ID'ing the murderer. I guess if he'd been anything other than a P.I. we'd have gotten a different show. Or something. You'd think, though, that someone with that knack for spotting the goose that lays the golden eggs might think: "I wonder how much a rich dude might pay us to bring a dead loved one back to life?" But no. Again: different show. Instead, we get the first of what appear to be many characters who just... accept... that this is the way the game is played, and go from there. It certainly makes for convenient plot advancement, but it also takes away any sense of reality. Which can be OK, like in the case of dear old Edward and his "Don't run with scissors?! What part of my life don't you understand?" charm.
But then the Contrivance Machine shifts into overdrive. See, Ned's childhood crush just happens to get murdered, setting up the scenario that some might call a gimmick: Ned gives her the first half of the usual treatment, but then can't bring himself to send her on to her Eternal Reward. Instead, the minute passes and death befalls a nearby funeral director - thankfully, a corrupt and worthless sort, saving Ned any messy guilt that might otherwise complicate things - leaving girlfriend Charlotte among the "alive again" crowd. And wouldn't you know it, just like Ned hasn't really moved on from that childhood crush because of his strange gift, Charlotte was sent off to live with twisted aunties - they were synchronized swimmers, OK? of course they're sick! - which saved her from ever developing a normal life! Whew! These two lovesick kids were so meant for each other!
Again, it takes Charlotte less time to adjust to this new situation, explained to her as she awakes in a coffin, than it took me to type this sentence - or, in fact, any word in it - as she eagerly joins Ned and the P.I. in their search for her killer. And here's the money shot, the gem that must've had the writers high-fiving each other raw when one of them came up with it: Ned and Charlotte can't touch, or she dies! Oh my God! I totally didn't see that one coming... except about a mile away.
The rest of the premiere is just more of the same, with a few laughs along the way but nothing terribly surprising. I've managed to make it sound like I hated Pushing Daisies, when in fact I didn't. It's horribly written in parts, and contrived as Hell, but it certainly has its heart in the right place (each of the main three characters are likable to some degree). I loved Edward Scissorhands and I wanted to like Pushing Daisies... but it didn't quite grab me. Maybe it'll get better. I think my strongest reaction, though, was: this is what's being touted as the best new show of 2007/08? Huh! That pretty much sums up this year's new crop, I think.
Rating: **
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6 comments:
interestingly, i likened the show to another depp/burton movie (sort of) while watching it: charlie and the chocolate factory. i agree that it sort of seems like an alternate world where different rules apply, and as such, you have to suspend your belief and roll with it, rather than question the actions and decisions of each character. i didn't mind doing that while watching the pilot, and really enjoyed it. it remains to be seen whether i'll still not mind doing so after 22 episodes.
I enjoyed it well-enough for its CGI-ed world and overall quirkiness, but doubt I’ll still be fond of it 1 or 2 episodes from now. Can you imagine the same premise (which I think is brilliant) but with more of an Angel-esque spin? Darker, more challenging decisions for Ned (i.e. funeral director that wasn’t an ass), and without the narration …
Agree that there's a huge willing suspension of disbelief required with PD. I think that deciding to not "question the actions and decisions of each character" is synonomous to me with "turn off your brain and just enjoy it," which, sadly, I've never been able to do.
As for the concept being "brilliant", I guess I can't get by the contrived - or, if you prefer, 'magical' - aspect of it. A more interesting spin on this sort of thing was the Kid Eternity character DC Comics introduced decades ago. His power was that he could bring back to life, long enough to help him in whatever quest he was on, any dead character from history (real or fictional, as I recall)! So he could call on Paul Bunyan, or Samson, or Winston Churchill, for that matter, to give him an edge in achieving some goal. Now that was brilliant, not the least of which because of what you'd learn about Kid E simply based on his selections! And in that case, it was clearly magic and no particular attempts at keeping things real were stated or implied.
Just watched the pilot - I'm not sure if I liked it or not. Sure, the visuals were fantastic and the show is ripe with motif opportunities. I'm just not sure I can get past that basic premise ... I want to know what dies when he brings those strawberries back to life! How old is his dog and how did he get away with not touching it for so many years? And don't even try to explain Charlotte...
...to note that he's the son of two French teachers, and a pedant.
And there it is again: "Couer d'couers". Hope it's fixed (or at least explained) in future episodes. Ouch.
Fixed, per the tag on the pie in this week's episode. Yay. :)
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