Lovable goofballs push pretty 'Daisies'
'PUSHING DAISIES' 7 to 8 p.m. CST Wednesdays starting Oct. 3 on ABC
August 22, 2007
BY DOUG ELFMAN Television Critic
When Ned was a boy, he ran with his dog in a field that looked for all the world like a painting of three colors: blue-blue sky, yellow-yellow daisies and green-green grass. It was Utopia.
Curious to Ned, he developed out of nowhere a rare gift/curse. If he touched dead creatures once -- his mom, his dog, a fly -- they'd spring back to life. If he touched them a second time, they'd die again forever.
"Pushing Daisies" follows Ned as an adult piemaker, along with Chuck (a woman who's the love of his life), plus their detective partner Emerson. They find corpses, Ned resurrects them to find out who killed them, then he kills them again.
That is the literal breakdown of "Pushing Daisies." But the magic of this procedural, romantic fairy tale is in the brush strokes, not the frame.
In Hollywood-speak, it seems like "Amelie" meets Tim Burton, although director Barry ("Men in Black") Sonnenfeld, who is responsible for the tone, bristles gently when people say this since, well, he's Barry Sonnenfeld.
Many scenes look sumptuously saturated in colors. Some shots are composed like postmodern and surreal pictures. A mature male narrator speaks "Winnie the Pooh" soothingly of bends in the storyline.
Creator-writer Bryan Fuller tells me the original conception "was 'Amelie' meets 'Kiss Kiss Bang Bang.' " I can see that, too.
"Daisies" debuts Oct. 3, but it's already garnering better buzz from critics than any other new show this fall, since everything seen so far (one episode) is beautiful.
It works on its most important level, as a twisting tale about lovable goofballs, told with lovely images and crisp dialogue.
When Ned (Lee Pace) sees his childhood crush Chuck (Anna Friel) for the first time in years, he awakens her from death and falls in love with her all over again.
"I guess dying is as good an excuse as any to start living," Chuck says.
But because his second caress would kill her, Ned and Chuck may never kiss or touch each other again. Their sober-eyed partner Emerson (Chicagoan Chi McBride) views their love as tragic and as a bit of a business encumbrance.
Yes, this is sadly romantic. But it is also a parable. We communicate more than we actually touch in our safe-sex, telecommunicative world.
"That is our culture now. We have a barrier to our physical relationships," Fuller says.
I have two questions. One: Will the show continue to look artistic? Fuller says yes. I hope "Daisies" even steps up post-editing color saturation, as director Jean-Pierre Jeunet did for "Amelie."
Two: Will the lovebirds will give us a drawn-out affair with no payoff? Fuller told me a few things about their future, but I won't divulge spoilers.
Fuller does say he's "steering right into" the unrequited love frustration, very soon. "We're doing an episode that's a procedural," he says, "with dog breeders. So Chuck and Ned are surrounded with sex."
Episodes will also see them using unsexy "prophylactics," like when they kiss covered in Saran Wrap or wearing protective suits.
"You mean like bear suits?" I ask Pace.
"I don't think we'll get that kinky," Pace says.
"Them dancing in bee suits, with bees swarming around them, is more our speed," Fuller says.
delfman@suntimes.com
August 22, 2007
BY DOUG ELFMAN Television Critic
When Ned was a boy, he ran with his dog in a field that looked for all the world like a painting of three colors: blue-blue sky, yellow-yellow daisies and green-green grass. It was Utopia.
Curious to Ned, he developed out of nowhere a rare gift/curse. If he touched dead creatures once -- his mom, his dog, a fly -- they'd spring back to life. If he touched them a second time, they'd die again forever.
"Pushing Daisies" follows Ned as an adult piemaker, along with Chuck (a woman who's the love of his life), plus their detective partner Emerson. They find corpses, Ned resurrects them to find out who killed them, then he kills them again.
That is the literal breakdown of "Pushing Daisies." But the magic of this procedural, romantic fairy tale is in the brush strokes, not the frame.
In Hollywood-speak, it seems like "Amelie" meets Tim Burton, although director Barry ("Men in Black") Sonnenfeld, who is responsible for the tone, bristles gently when people say this since, well, he's Barry Sonnenfeld.
Many scenes look sumptuously saturated in colors. Some shots are composed like postmodern and surreal pictures. A mature male narrator speaks "Winnie the Pooh" soothingly of bends in the storyline.
Creator-writer Bryan Fuller tells me the original conception "was 'Amelie' meets 'Kiss Kiss Bang Bang.' " I can see that, too.
"Daisies" debuts Oct. 3, but it's already garnering better buzz from critics than any other new show this fall, since everything seen so far (one episode) is beautiful.
It works on its most important level, as a twisting tale about lovable goofballs, told with lovely images and crisp dialogue.
When Ned (Lee Pace) sees his childhood crush Chuck (Anna Friel) for the first time in years, he awakens her from death and falls in love with her all over again.
"I guess dying is as good an excuse as any to start living," Chuck says.
But because his second caress would kill her, Ned and Chuck may never kiss or touch each other again. Their sober-eyed partner Emerson (Chicagoan Chi McBride) views their love as tragic and as a bit of a business encumbrance.
Yes, this is sadly romantic. But it is also a parable. We communicate more than we actually touch in our safe-sex, telecommunicative world.
"That is our culture now. We have a barrier to our physical relationships," Fuller says.
I have two questions. One: Will the show continue to look artistic? Fuller says yes. I hope "Daisies" even steps up post-editing color saturation, as director Jean-Pierre Jeunet did for "Amelie."
Two: Will the lovebirds will give us a drawn-out affair with no payoff? Fuller told me a few things about their future, but I won't divulge spoilers.
Fuller does say he's "steering right into" the unrequited love frustration, very soon. "We're doing an episode that's a procedural," he says, "with dog breeders. So Chuck and Ned are surrounded with sex."
Episodes will also see them using unsexy "prophylactics," like when they kiss covered in Saran Wrap or wearing protective suits.
"You mean like bear suits?" I ask Pace.
"I don't think we'll get that kinky," Pace says.
"Them dancing in bee suits, with bees swarming around them, is more our speed," Fuller says.
delfman@suntimes.com
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