Pushing Daisies: Til death (or over-quirk) do us part
Nerve's recent review of Pushing Daisies totally nails this show's seductive power. Writer Bryan Christian describes Daisies as a "whimsical, deeply stylized, romantic murder-mystery fairy tale" that "took the piss out of the deathly serious murder porn that litters the network landscape" yet still "hews close to the classic screwball tropes." Think "Law and Order" meets "Moonlighting," with emphasis on the latter.
"Like Moonlighting," writes Christian, "Pushing Daisies knows that screwball means more than just snappy banter and sexual tension: it means having the discipline to be in constant pursuit of the good part of the story — the chase, the flirt, the best joke at hand — then move on to the next thing with giddy momentum."
I was initially wary that the show, with its saturated colorscapes, flouncy frocks, sweetly chaste lovers and CG sets would send my internal Quirk-o-Meter into spasms. But like Christian, I was lured in by the soothing, Potter-y baritone of venerable British actor Jim Dale, and charmed by the moony green eyes and expressive eyebrows of American actor Lee Pace. I'm still occasionally irked by the "Gilmore-ish" dialogue (add that to the Gen Y lexicon), but I'm really enjoying the bizarre weekly mysteries and the Chuck-Ned-Olive love triangle -- and Olive herself, played with lots of sass and cleavage by Kristin Chenoweth.
"Moonlighting's" ratings plummeted after Maddie and David finally slept together. Lucky for "Pushing Daisies," sex will never be an option for Ned and Chuck (if he touches her, she dies). So as long as the characters keep their libidos and their quirkiness in check, we'll be able to have a satisfying and fulfilling relationship.