No show pushes my buttons the way Pushing Daisies does. Like its awkward hero who resurrects the dead (albeit only momentarily in most cases), this Technicolored kaleidoscope fable of life, love and perpetual whimsy restores my faith in TV's ability to amuse, enchant and entertain with endless invention and eye-popping style.

Bearing echoes of "Edward Scissorhands," "Amélie" and The Avengers (when a killer is disguised as a crash-test dummy), Daisies is wonderful in the best sense of the word. It inspires a childlike wonder as we meet a fabulous array of wacky, lovable characters.

Ned (the adorable Lee Pace), a lonely pie maker, brings the dead to life with a touch, but only for a minute — or someone else will die. Touching them again sends them away forever. He broke precedent for Chuck (luminous Anna Friel), the childhood sweetheart he keeps alive and who joins him on his bizarre misadventures, along with curmudgeonly private eye Emerson (hilarious Chi McBride), who uses Ned's gift to solve mysterious deaths and reap rewards.

There's also pert little Olive (Kristin Chenoweth), the waitress who pines for Ned — she once belted out a show-stopping "Hopelessly Devoted to You" when no one was looking — and Chuck's weird aunts Lily and Vivian (Swoosie Kurtz and Ellen Greene).

A show this offbeat invites skepticism and scorn. Many wonder how long Daisies can sustain its premise, especially the need to keep Ned and Chuck physically apart (they kiss through plastic wrap, among other barriers). Some find its preciousness cloying, like the viewer who e-mailed me to call it "the children's movie that even the kids say is boring."

To each their own. But to those of us who own up to loving Daisies, this is one exhilarating leap of faith, a garden overbrimming with brilliant joy.

Pushing Daisies airs Wednesdays at 8 pm/ET on ABC. 

Carol Burnett: A Woman of Character

On her classic The Carol Burnett Show (1967-78), TV's last great variety-comedy hour in a sadly neglected tradition, the legendary clown cracked up America (and her cast) with an anything-goes bravado that bridged slapstick and satire.

And yet, "It was always being somebody else that gave me confidence," Burnett reveals in an American Masters biographical/career portrait. She's an extraordinary subject, still projecting warmth and wit in a present-day audience Q&A (a staple from her show she continues to take on the road), but this is only an ordinary American Masters. It relies too heavily on redundant celebrity testimonials, and in one trite moment shows Burnett singing Sondheim's "I'm Still Here" anthem to underscore her survivor mentality. Watch it for the clips and for the memories of putting on a great show with amazing talent and grace.

Carol Burnett: A Woman of Character airs Monday, Nov. 5, on PBS; check local listings.