Thank God for Emerson Cod

The thing about Pushing Daisies is that you really do have to watch it to fully comprehend just how unrelentingly sweet it is. It’s so stylistically different to literally every other show on TV right now that it makes for quite a large pill to swallow, but I am soldiering on with it, despite ITV’s attempts to make me do otherwise.

“But, ITV? Aren’t they the channel broadcasting Daisies?”, I hear you ask. And yes, you’re right. However, in a move not unsurpising considering its track record, ITV recently had a really good go at completely shafting its prime-time Saturday night show – by not broadcasting the second episode. You see, after whatever crappy programme they were previously showing in the 9 PM Saturday slot finished, there was only 8 weeks until the start of Euro 2008, which ITV has shared coverage rights for in tandem with the BBC. Pushing Daisies’ first season is 9 episodes long. Which, obviously, means that they couldn’t broadcast the whole season in a one-per-week format without damaging the football scheduling, which takes precedence because of its inevitably higher ratings.

Now, the sensible thing to do, which most broadcasters tend to do with such things, would be to show either the first or the last two episodes back-to-back to fit in the slot. But no. ITV decided that repeating American Pie 2 yet again was a better idea than showing episodes one and two consecutively. So, they got rid of episode two because “it was the best candidate to cut without damaging the continuing story”. To put this into context, the second episode of Pushing Daisies is widely acknowledged as being the first season’s very best offering.

Man, I’d really love to see American Pie 2’s viewing figures that night compared to the first episode of Pushing Daisies. Now, ITV assures us that the episode will be broadcast when the show is rerun, but as far as I’m concerned that’s nowhere near an acceptable compromise. Frankly, if ITV didn’t think it would be able to show the entire season, they shouldn’t have bid for it in the first place. Ridiculous.

But I don’t want to go on and on about that act of insanity, really I don’t. I want to say good things about Pushing Daisies. You see, wrapped in several layers of faintly nauseating sugar is a charming and quietly involving story, with visual and linguistic gags aplenty and one of my favourite new characters of recent times – private investigator Emerson Cod, played by Chi McBride.

Emerson is the one guy in the whole series who doesn’t bleed caramel. His deadpan cynicism, at times laugh-out-loud funny, is complemented by occasions of vulnerability and tranquility. (One of the things I missed when the second episode was cut was the revelation that Emerson knits – I really, really wish I’d seen that scene.) He always gets the best lines of the show, and McBride milks it for all it’s worth. I was doubly impressed considering that the last, and only, time I saw his work was when he played nasty corporate slimeball Adam Vogler in House, the complete polar opposite to Emerson Cod.

For completely different reasons, I love Anna Friel. Dammit, if Chuck isn’t the single cutest character I’ve ever seen on TV, I’ll eat my hat – and for her to stand out so much for that reason on a show like this is quite an achievement.

TV: America knows best

Truth be told, I’m not the world’s biggest fan of the United States of America. Invasions of Middle-Eastern countries aside, they butchered the English language and maintain a general lack of awareness of the world they (mostly) control. (Incidentally, I don’t wish to stereotype all Americans in this bracket, there are a good deal of very aware and intelligent people over there – that’s the law of averages for you.) I tend to resent somewhat its influence.

However, it’s difficult not to develop a grudging respect for the total superiority of American television over that of the British. I think I would have a very hard time dealing with the (rather wide) shadow of the stars and stripes that encompasses the globe if it were not for the saving graces of (to name but a few) Lost, 24, House, Battlestar Galactica and so on and so on.

There just seems to be something about the American mentality that lends itself to making amazing TV. There may be a link between the fact that Americans tend to be more outgoing and less guarded than the stereotypical Englishman and the far more edgy nature of American TV. People take risks with ideas and hence we see shows like 24, which created an entirely new format for how a TV show could exist – the real-time hour-per-episode length that we take for granted with the show now that it’s had six seasons. I can’t see anyone in Britain having ever made a programme like that.

Of course, after things become great successes in the US, then the British market start making bad copies of it – witness Spooks, which can try all it want but it’s always going to be an inferior 24 without the time gimmick. On the other end of the genre scale, the frankly pathetic Mistresses that recently failed to set BBC One viewers alight is a painfully crap rehash of the superb Desperate Housewives. (Yes, I’m male, I watch Desperate Housewives. You try it, then try and laugh.)

Occasionally, American TV gets so good that it passes its own viewers by. Joss Whedon’s magnificent space western Firefly suffered this fate – it was critically acclaimed, rightly so, as one of the very best television series of recent years, but just couldn’t get the viewers to survive. As I mentioned not long ago, Jericho found itself in a similar situation (though I’m not about to claim that Jericho is anywhere near as awesome as Firefly).

The only thing that Britain has to pride itself upon is Doctor Who, which continues to fly the flag for family entertainment. The fourth season starts up again on Saturday 5th April and despite the thoroughly disappointing return of Catherine Tate as the new companion, it’s going to be a cracker. Torchwood’s second season has done much to make up for the horrendous first effort, but it needs to be this good consistently to earn its place next to its parent show as genuinely great British TV. Life on Mars was the only other really excellent production we’ve had recently, and even that is having its reputation eroded away somewhat by the lacklustre Ashes to Ashes spin-off.

This is a great time of year for the British viewer, but it’s barely anything to do with our own TV. Running alongside Doctor Who (and, frankly, probably outshining it) will be the fourth seasons of Lost, House, Battlestar Galactica and Desperate Housewives. Fantastically, all of the above are on different days of the week, so almost every day there is going to be some compelling telly to watch. And it’s all thanks to our friends across the Atlantic. God Bless America!

Re: Hugh Laurie, and a confession

If you’re expecting another wall of text like yesterday’s blog, then today you’re sorely mistaken, as I am attempting to fit this entry around selected snippets of the BBC’s Sport Relief marathon and catching up with House – I have 13 episodes of season three to watch before season 4 starts broadcasting on five on Thursday. Speaking of House, I should mention that I did at last get my hands on the Radio Times featuring the Hugh Laurie interview that I wrote about a few days ago. What surprised me was how downbeat he seemed on the future of the show, but surely as a show that was popular enough to survive the writers’ strike, it can theoretically go on for quite a while longer. I hope so, anyway.

But speaking of Sport Relief, there’s something I have to get off my chest. The only part of the evening’s programming that I have indulged in so far was hosted by a man whom it appears cool to actively dislike. I’ve never once read a good review of him, anywhere. But I’m sorry. Maybe there’s something wrong with me, but dammit, I like Jimmy Carr!

I’m not going to write heaps about him – I mean, he’s funny, but he’s no Bill Bailey – but I just feel he gets a bit of a raw deal. So sue me, establishment.

Just to finish off (mainly to avoid making this post look tiny when compared to yesterday’s Eurovision marathon), here’s a joke I came across a week or so ago on the internet.

Luke Skywalker decides to take some time out from the stress of being a Jedi to take up a career in art education. He chooses to start by writing an informative pamphlet for kids about the many different shades of the colour purple. After writing the first draft, he feels it’s lacking something and goes to ask his friend Han Solo for feedback.

“Hey, Han,” says Luke, boarding the Millennium Falcon, “can you take a look at this pamphlet? I just feel it’s not quite right – any ideas?”

“I dunno, kid,” says Han, “have ya spelt ‘mauve’ right?”

“Yeah,” says Luke, “I spell-checked it twice.”

“Ah, probably right. I never was too great at spelling. Hey, maybe you should go ask Darth Vader.”

Luke agrees and pops over to the Death Star to talk to Vader.

“Hey dad,” he says, “I’ve been writing this pamphlet on the colour purple but I just feel it’s missing something. Can you help me?”

“Hurrr-haaaa, hurrr-haaaa,” breathes Vader, “Son, are you sure you have enough detail in your entry for ‘violet’?”

“Yes,” says Luke glumly, “I had an expert fill in that section, he seemed happy that it was detailed enough. Anything else?”

“No,” says Vader, “the force is strong in this pamphlet.”

Still not convinced, though, Luke flies to Dagobah to ask Yoda his opinion. The wise Jedi Master takes a look at the pamphlet and turns to Luke.

“Your problem, understand it I do.”

“You do?” asks Luke excitedly, “what is it then? What’s wrong with my instructional pamphlet on purple?”

Yoda points a finger at the offending section and says, “hard to see, the fuschia is.”

The wonders of the internet, eh?

Hugh Laurie: “snubbed by Britain”?

So apparently Hugh Laurie (yeah, that Hugh Laurie, i.e. the best actor on TV in House) feels he’s been “snubbed” by Britain since he became the super-mega-star in the US. This is from an interview in the new issue of the Radio Times, which was released in the UK today – unfortunately, as I live in the Netherlands at the moment, I won’t be able to read it in full until Friday, but that won’t stop me from making an uninformed judgement on the situation, oh no.

I read this story, therefore, on the BBC News website, and this is how they word the story:

The award-winning star told the Radio Times the hours on the show are “relentless” and he has not been offered any work in his home country.

“The door slammed behind me, and that’s it. There’s a notion that I’ve sold out,” said the performer.

Now, is it just me, or is the fact that Laurie has “relentless hours” working on House possibly the reason that he’s not getting any work in the UK? I mean, he’s doing this for 20-odd weeks a year, which, yes, leaves time during the off-season, but would surely be a possible, if not probable, stumbling block for many producers and directors trying to get a project off the ground.

That said, I am inclined to sympathise with Laurie, despite any misgivings, because he’s clearly a ridiculously intelligent and talented man – I’ve always loved his work, particularly on House, the third season of which I am working my way through on DVD at the moment – so much so that you’ve got to think that anyone who wants to work with him would surely try to plan production when House is in its hiatus.

With any luck this story (though big, big news it is definitely not) might kick some British employers into finding a job for Laurie, who’s clearly keen on such an idea. Frankly, they should be waiting hand and foot on him.