Pushing Daisies: Pigeon
First things first: Pushing Daisies has officially been picked up for a full season (22 episodes) by ABC, which means we have at least 18 more weeks of candy-coated cracked-out weirdness ahead of us. I, for one, am as pleased as a shut-in eating a pie with a gruyere crust and homeopathically enhanced apple filling.
This week's episode concerning an (ahem) one-armed fugitive ratcheted up the weirdness in the Pushing Daisies universe a bit. Granted, there's been a decent amount of twisted humor over the past three episodes, but this time around the creepiness felt a little more purposeful, rather than like a counterpoint to the tweeness of the show. Between the grave-digging, Frankenpigeon, and that sweet, sweet prison-amputee love, this episode was the first that really warranted all the Tim Burton comparisons the show has received. Not to mention that terrifying They Might Be Giants sing-along. (Of course, I kid. I think I've established that I am firmly pro-song when it comes to PD. More singing, always more singing.)
While this week's mystery was decidedly more complex than previous episodes' (we went from a suicide investigation to a treasure hunt to a long-distance love story), it was probably the weakest so far. Despite the clamor and excitement that windmillery always brings to the proceedings, I was completely underwhelmed by Lefty's quest. There was much more in the way of character development going on this time around though, which made up for that any meh-ness on the mystery-solvin' front.
Finally we get something besides moony eyes and aw-shucks foot-shuffling in the Ned-Chuck camp. I was wondering when the whole not-being-able-to-touch thing would become a real obstacle and not just an excuse for cutesiness, and this week we saw that all the Saran wrap in the world can't change the fact that it's really hard to begin or sustain a relationship when you can't show any physical affection—particularly when other people CAN provide that missing element. Even though Chuck infuriates me on a weekly basis, and Ned is far too swoony, there was more genuine sadness to their relationship this week, which made me a tad more sympathetic to their plight. Seriously, is there anything more pathetic than two adults awkwardly dancing in full-coverage beekeeping apparel?
Meanwhile, Olive and the aunts seem to have become a fantastically effed-up trio, a relationship that will hopefully continue to bring equal amounts of silly and sweet. Olive's conflict over outing Chuck and devastating Lily and Vivian was a nice moment—though I suspect that crafty minx will find some way to wield her newfound knowledge to torment Chuck. I can't wait. And how much longer can the aunts remain in the dark about their niece's lack of deadness? Lily seems far too cunning to simply shake off her Chuck sighting, and as Olive grows closer to them, will she start to feel guilty about keeping her secret from the aunts? Well, we have at least 18 more weeks to find out!
Grade: B
Stray observations:
—Finally, a reason to bust out my old BeDazzler!
—Ned pressed against the window of the Pie Hole watching as Chuck held Lefty's hand was simultaneously horrifying and adorable.
—It's a good thing Digby somehow understands Ned's powers. That's one way to keep your dog from jumping up on you.
—We're really racking up the callbacks: the necrophelia/narcolepsy discussion, Olive's mixing up words, Emerson's knitting. Any others?
—Is every victim on this show going to have a horribly disfiguring facial malady? I can only hope.
—This week's pie: cherry (again).