"Better a fallen rocket than never a burst of light."
~ Tom Stoppard, The Invention of Love

Thursday, October 8, 2015

Relationship Spotlight: Ned & Emerson (Pushing Daisies)

Pushing Daisies is one of those infinitely-pairable shows, where you can put virtually any two characters in a scene together and get gold.  You’ve got Chuck and Olive, Ned and Vivian, Emerson and Chuck, Ned and Olive, Ned and Chuck, Olive and Emerson, Lily and Vivian… Any way you slice it, it works.  Amid all that fun and watchability, though, I think Ned and Emerson might be my favorite.  (A few character-related spoilers.)

Logistically, they make perfect sense as partners.  Emerson is a private investigator, and Ned can wake a murder victim with a touch of his finger to ask who killed them.  It’s a no-brainer!  (Not to mention, Ned owns a pie shop and Emerson has a sweet tooth – I’d be shocked if they didn’t want to associate with each other.)  However, as we move from the hypothetical to the actual, we see that they’re tremendously different people.

If Ned hadn’t been struggling financially when he met Emerson, he probably wouldn’t have agreed to their unconventional sleuthing arrangement.  He’s a bit of a homebody who’s uncomfortable with change and likes to have a system.  He generally prefers keeping his head down, which makes sense, because he’s had a spontaneously-occurring magical power since childhood and a fear of being discovered/dissected.  But at the same time, when his emotions take over, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t know what he’s doing until he’s already done it.  It’s his heart that leads him to the reckless, impulsive decision of permanently reviving Chuck, and it’s responsible for the brunt of the greatest/scariest/most complicated things that happen to him.

On the other hand, Emerson is street-smart and imminently practical; some would say ruthlessly so.  He’s not above sniffing around the morgue and trying to ingratiate himself among some bereaved next-of-kin in the hopes of securing new a new job.  While Ned can be awkward as an investigator and is almost laughably inept at any type of undercover work, Emerson is in his element here.  He’s well-versed in the tricks of the trade, knows how to put the screws to someone, and though I wouldn’t call him a natural cynic, he certainly comes by it honestly.  Once Chuck enters the picture, it’s Emerson who chews Ned out for his hasty actions and worries that Chuck will be found out, throwing a wrench in his operation with Ned.  And later, he becomes the annoyed observer of their overall schmoopiness and is sometimes roped into playing the begrudging proxy to their hugs, high-fives, and hand-holding (if Ned and Chuck touch a second time, Chuck will be dead again forever.)

Working together, both men pick up a lot from the other while remaining utterly themselves.  Ned learns plenty of P.I. skills from Emerson, and under the somewhat bossy tutelage of his friend, he starts to grow bolder and more discerning.  He also manages to get his head out of the clouds at least a tiny bit where Chuck is concerned, thinking of the real ramifications of their relationship and situation.  Meanwhile, Ned helps Emerson to access his emotions a bit more (that sounds way more flowery than it really is, by the way.)  Like Ned, Emerson has a soft side, but he doesn’t like to let anyone see it.  Gradually, though, he starts to open up to Ned about the things he usually keeps to himself, which in turn helps him open up to others as well.  I love how delightedly incredulous Ned is when Emerson first eases up on the gruff routine, revealing that he went to art school, and any scene that features Emerson confiding to Ned about his lost daughter is basically perfect.

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