The great tragedy in losing Pushing Daisies—and I do not write “a show like Pushing Daisies,” because, frankly, there has been no show quite like it—has as much to do with the actors involved in this heartwarming, intentionally precious, and wonderfully charming dramedy as it does with the show’s emotional core.
From the outset, this show’s creators made no mistake about their intention to give thespian delectation to trained theater actors whose skills are so rarely given their due on primetime television. Lee Pace, a Juilliard alum possessed of a subtlety of expression and the sort of élan normally associated with golden age stage gods, was to be its star, and Anna Friel, so winning onstage in her guffaw-worthy turn as Alice in Patrick Marber’s Closer, was to be his muse. (Clearly instilled with good actorly taste, Friel had the wisdom to make the fine stage and screen actor David Thewlis her life partner. These are actors’ actors.) Kristin Chenoweth—she of the sharp tongue, deliciously sweet-then-sour-then-sweet disposition and the well-turned harrumph—was plucked from Broadway’s Hallowed Pantheon and, lo and behold, given something worthy of her pluck. And Swoosie Kurtz and Ellen Greene—need I expound?
This was immediately a show that took acting as seriously as it took whimsy. From the start, and practically every week, Pushing Daisies found a way to blow the mind of my inner theater geek. The witty and toothsome Christopher Sieber as an olfactory genius gone mad! Theatrical jack-of-all-trades Raúl Esparza as an itinerant purveyor of mood-enhancing potions! Chenoweth and Greene chirping a They Might Be Giants tune like it was a beloved ditty in the Mitzi Gaynor songbook! And all of this cloaked in the incomparable Jim Dale’s singsong narration! Was I dreaming?
And this was no mere trotting of the TV boards; this was pitch-perfect delivery—all of it directed, dressed and scored thrillingly. TV had actually provided a legitimate stage for its stage-inaugurated performers. On shows like the various branches of the Law & Order franchise, which are based in New York, theater actors are often consigned to the wings; they are given small, stock roles that offer some room for interpretation but are streamlined to allow a criminal case to unfurl more or less unhindered. That is why, in relief, and to my relief, Pushing Daisies has always been so refreshing.
Even its bit roles have brimmed with the firm belief that, as in the old adage, there really are no small parts. Pushing Daisies has never underestimated its players, and thereby has never underestimated us as viewers. And what of us viewers? So many of us know what is what in the world of theater, and we were elated to have found the medium of television calling on our best artistic sensibilities. Perhaps we are comparatively few (as theater enthusiasts have always seemed in relation to the showier realms of television and film), but we are passionate, and that passion is priceless. Like the Piehole itself, which has acted as this wondrous show’s main backdrop, we are cozily sized, ebullient and always ready for something sweet. What a singular, weep-worthy pity that our shop has had its shutters—nay, curtains—closed.
Rakesh Satyal is a writer and editor who sings a cabaret show in New York.
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