A Wing and a Prayer: Carrier Pigeons and Birdhouses of the Soul on "Pushing Daisies"

I'm still on a high after last night's episode of Pushing Daisies ("Pigeon"), a sweet as pie installment scripted by Rina Mimoun (Gilmore Girls) that upped the romantic quotient while still remaining true to its quirky off-beat drumming. (My high might also have something to do with the sinfully delicious piece of cherry pie my fiancée brought home for the occasion.)

Wednesday nights have truly become a highlight of the week since Pushing Daisies launched. I can't tell you how much my face hurts after an episode, what with all the grinning. And last night's episode was no exception. What other series could take a plot about jewel thieves, a downed crop duster, a one-armed man, windmills, a mono-winged carrier pigeon, and bees and make it into pure, unadulterated joy? (None, I tell you.) Plus, Chuck and Ned's rooftop waltzing trumped any B&B-related romance with Jim and Pam, making these star-crossed lovers the only ones I can't get enough of lately.

Ned. I completely sympathized with poor Ned when he stepped out of the way to let Chuck fall; while not a gentlemanly thing to do, Ned couldn't risk catching her and inadvertently letting his flesh touch hers. (Bad idea.) But at the same time, he's constantly existing in a state of proximity to his heart's desire but can't even touch her, not even to hold her hand. (My solution: always carry gloves, should the urge for hand-holding arise.) Still, Ned has proven himself quite adept at adopting the most unusual methods for getting close to Chuck: plastic wrap, fiberglass car panels, beekeeper suits, etc. I thought that their dance at the end of the episode was perhaps one of the most romantic things I've seen on television so far this season.

I loved the flashback scene with Digby as he searched out young Ned, prevented a fire along the way, and instinctively knew not to touch Ned again. (We should all have a canine friend as perspicacious as Digby.) Instead, the whole notion of proxy love was created for Ned, one that carries over into his relationship with Chuck. Which makes me wonder how far Ned would take this concept: is he willing to open up their relationship to a sort of polygamy? Not the Roman Grant/Hollis Greene kind, but a sort of open dating policy where they can see other people?

Speaking of questions, I am also wondering a few things about the extent of Ned's abilities. We know that if he keeps the resurrected (or "alive again"), well, alive for more than a minute, something within a certain proximity dies and the resurrected stay that way, supposedly forever. But is "forever" really forever? Can Digby (or Chuck for that matter) stay alive for eternity or can they be killed? Also, in this episode, we saw Ned resurrect the dead jewel thief who had been long buried (and missing his eyes), but I am pondering this: is there a limitation to how long someone is dead with regards to Ned's power to bring them back to life? Curious...

Chuck. I'm head over heels crazy for lonely tourist Charlotte Charles and each week just shows us how adorably quirky she is; this week's tidbit: that Chuck once worked as a stay-at-home juror for a paraplegic judge. This week, we saw the extreme downside of Chuck and Ned's relationship, embodied in that single misstep in the apartment; still, she saw it as a sweet gesture, that Ned would sacrifice propriety and politesse in order to ensure her longterm well-being. But then she was literally swept off of her feet by "Conrad" (aka Lefty), who did manage to catch her. While another series may have inserted a misguided courtship here between Chuck and Lefty, I'm glad that--like Digby--she found a proxy for her love for Ned. The scene in which she held his hand and closed her eyes, pretending that she was holding Ned's hand, was absolutely heartbreaking. And hysterical, to boot, when Ned spied Lefty and Chuck from the window of the Pie Hole.

I completely understand Chuck's frustration with her new situation. She's regained her life and her childhood sweetheart but with the most Faustian of bargains: she can't physically touch Ned and she can't let aunts Lily and Vivian know that she's alive, as much as she might want to do both. I loved the fact that Lily did see Chuck standing outside the windmill with her own eye. Even if she believes herself to be mistaken, the clues are starting to stack up and it's only a matter of time before Chuck is reunited with her aunts.

Olive. I'm growing to love Olive in a very unexpected way; I didn't really think that she would become an integral part of the series but in the talented hands of Kristin Chenoweth, Olive has blossomed into a central role. I love the battle raging in her soul between jealousy and good nature, a war which seems to take its toll on lovelorn Olive. I loved the scene in which she, Lily, and Vivian took a car ride into the country while singing "Birdhouse in Your Soul" (They Might Be Giants, natch) and following carrier pigeon Pidge, whose missing wing problem had been solved--much like Lefty--by the addition of a prosthetic body part, in this case a taxidermic parrot's wing attached to the body with a harness and a Bejeweler. (Loved how Olive asked if she could do one, only to be told by Lily that maybe she could do that last one. No such luck.) Olive does have the opportunity to make Chuck's house of cards come crashing down when she sees Chuck, Ned, and Emerson outside the windmill but her benevolence, rather than jealousy, kicks in and she secretly tells Chuck who is inside with two simple words: "Tart apple." It's with those two words that Olive Snook moves from lovelorn pie waitress to full-blown hero.

Best line of the night: "Big Daddy needs some new yarn." - Emerson.

Guest stars galore. Lefty was played by Dash Mihok, who most recently appeared in the original pilot for ABC's Cavemen, but we all know as Ben's goofy swim team friend Lynn McKennan from Felicity. Downed crop-dusting pilot Bradan Caden's wife Becky was played by Karly Rothenberg, who hilariously recurs on The Office as the mannish warehouse employee Madge. And Elsita, the adorable redhead who lives in a windmill and exchanges messages with a convict via carrier pigeon, was played with aplomb by Jayma Mays, recently recurring as Betty's nemesis Charlie on Ugly Betty; she also played the lead on botched comedy pilot Nice Girls Don't Get the Corner Office and Charlie Andrews on Season One of Heroes.

Next week on a Halloween-themed episode of Pushing Daisies ("Girth"), Ned, Chuck, and Emerson are hired by Olive to investigate a series of possible murders involving jockeys being trampled to death by the ghost of a long-dead rider and his horse when all signs point to the ex-jockey Olive Snook being the next victim. (Didn't know she was a jockey? Cheno told me herself here.) Meanwhile, Ned must face his own fears of Halloween when faced with some uncomfortable childhood memories.