depravity and gravity have always got a grasp on me.

One of my latest vices that has kept me stark awake into the countless wee hours of the bitter night is a show I always meant to watch while it was originally airing but was never able to nail down.  In my true nature, I hauled derriere to the nearest Best Buy, keen-eyed and armed with a modest gift card in order to find the program that had wearily escaped me for far too long.  And there is was, gleaming in all its glory, a prize waiting to be claimed – the first season of Pushing Daisies.  I scooted home, clad myself in comfies, scuttled into bed and pressed play.  And thus, a new chapter began – one dripping with sweet, unfiltered imagination, brilliance of imagery, classic kitschiness, and transcendental fantasy, all tied up neatly in one clean, tidy bow.  Sure, Daisies is incredibly silly, but its goofball charm is what makes it so likable – it’s operating on a realm completely its own, which makes it easy to turn a blind eye to its wacky nature.

Daisies revolves around the unexplainable magical powers of its protagonist Ned (Lee Pace) – a grown manboy with achingly sweet charm and the ability to revive the dead with the touch of his adorable finger.  However, his graveyard dance comes with a hefty price tag – for every soul he brings back to life for over one minute, another person must perish (“It’s a random proximity thing.”)  With the help of a pessimistic private eye with a penchant for the green, Ned hones his trade into a business, reviving murder victims in order to reap in the rewards.  Through his work, Ned is happenstantially reunited with his long-lost love – a girl named Chuck (Anna Friel) that he knew as a child.  However, Ned and Chuck are doomed to remain star-crossed lovers as they cannot touch, lest Chuck – who met her maker once already – kick the bucket for all eternity.

What makes this show so appealing is that it is so incredibly easy to become swept up by its sugary sweetness while still enjoying the bitter twinge of it all.  Daisies is perfectly cast – Pace and Friel’s chemistry is so contagious that the audience finds themselves caught up in its clockwork, and Chi McBride (Ned’s business partner) and Kristin Chenowith (the pining and paltry waitress suffering from unrequited love) offer such hilarious and bright turns that their mark is incurably indelible.  Sure, the show suffers from internal formula syndrome, and sure, it may turn a bit Scooby-Doo as the gang solves mystery after wacky mystery, but it’s all presented with such inventive writing and empathetic allure that the occasional absurdities hardly seems to matter.  Sadly, however, all adorable fairy tales must come to an end, and I’m dismayed to report that Pushing Daisies is, in fact, pushing daisies – it was nixed prior to season three taping. Too bad Ned couldn’t revive this gem with the touch of a finger.