"Better a fallen rocket than never a burst of light."
~ Tom Stoppard, The Invention of Love
Showing posts with label Emerson Cod. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Emerson Cod. Show all posts

Friday, June 5, 2020

Favorite Characters: Emerson Cod (Pushing Daisies)


Pushing Daisies is a show where pretty much every character, from the leads down to the bit parts, has a lot to offer, and Emerson Cod brings so much to the proceedings. The knitting detective, named after after a poet and a fish, at first seems at odds with all the bright colors and sweetness, but Emerson helps balance the show in important ways, and the show in turn balances him (premise spoilers, along with a few Emerson-related spoilers from season 2.)

We’re introduced to Emerson as a jaded opportunist: seeing Ned’s gift (the piemaker can bring dead things/people back to life without consequence for up to a minute, just by touching them,) he gets the idea to partner with Ned and solve murders by temporarily waking the deceased to ask them about their murder. Emerson sees Ned as a potential cash cow, an easier way to solve crimes and collect either reward money or P.I. fees, and while characters like Chuck wear their sunshiny idealism on their sleeves, Emerson has lines like “dead bodies always lead to paydays.”

Similarly, Emerson seems at first a gruff guy with no time for sentiment. This might make his partnership with Ned appear unfortunate for him, since Ned and Chuck are all about sentiment and cute romance. Many a sweet moment between those two are punctuated by Emerson’s “kill me now” face as they rope him into “proxy” displays of affection. Ned brought Chuck back to life on a permanent basis after her own murder, but the nature of his powers means that if he ever touches her again, she’ll be dead forever – so, they’ll sometimes hold Emerson’s hands instead of each other’s or get him to hug one of them on the other’s behalf. And all the while, Emerson glowers.

And no denying, Emerson is sharper and more cynical than Ned and Chuck – more so than Olive too, even though she’s a little further down the cynicism spectrum than the two lovebirds. He brings his dry sarcasm to most situations, he lectures Ned when he thinks the piemaker is being stupid, and he generally has little faith in humanity. But Emerson’s streetwise guardedness comes about in part from being once bitten, twice shy. Lilah, his ex, is a con woman who tricked him, and what’s worse, she took his daughter Penny from him. He’s spent years beating himself up for not seeing through Lilah’s games, desperate to see Penny again but unsure of how to find her and blaming himself for their separation almost as much as he blames Lilah. His experiences with Lilah robbed him of what trust he had, and his pain at losing Penny made him hesitant to care about anything else.

At heart, though, Emerson is a lot softer than he lets on, and even if he doesn’t express his feelings as openly as other characters do, it doesn’t mean he’s indifferent. Over time, he slowly begins to open up to his friends about what he’s been through. He develops an affectionate friendship with Olive, he recognizes Ned’s worth beyond the financial advantages his powers bring, and he even warms up – a little – to Chuck. And so, just as his gruff zingers keep the series from feeling too saccharine, the other characters’ sweetness help the sometimes-curmudgeonly P.I. let a few of his walls down.

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.