A woman performing a tracheotomy in the back seat of a speeding car driven by a wisecracking indie girl who takes orders from inanimate objects? I'm sold! Wonderfalls was one of a string of never-had-a–chance FOX series (Firefly, The Tick) that probably suffered from the fact that it was a pagan analog of Joan of Arcadia, which came along at about the same time.

Halfway through the pilot episode, the trach-in-the-backseat scene cast a spell on me. Three weeks later, on March 26, 2004, the fourth episode of Wonderfalls became the last to air. The bitter, bitchy, cute in a very uncuddly way antihero, Jaye Tyler, her band of friends, wacky family, and, most notably, cadre of talking, taunting animals (from plastic toys to a cow-shaped creamer) were gone.

When I encountered Wonderfalls: The Complete Viewer Collection (13 episodes, including 9 that never aired!), I hesitated—had the show really been that great? Or was it impossible to know, having seen only three episodes? (I missed the fourth and final ep, which Fox, in its wisdom, ran on a different night than the first three.) Am I just a sucker for a lesbian performing unorthodox medical procedures at speeds of 40+ MPH? As it turns out—yes. Yes, the show had real potential. Yes, it was too early to judge the whole season. And, yes, that pen-trach scene did kick ass. And how could I forget the catchy theme song from Andy (XTC) Partridge?

Wonderfalls centers around Jaye (like the letter "J"—as in Joan of Arc, get it?) Tyler, a Brown University graduate who lives up to her high school yearbook aspiration of being "overeducated andunemployable" by working as a clerk in a Niagara Falls gift shop. Caroline Dhavernas turns in a perfectly acid and exasperated performance as Jaye, the reluctant and downright bewildered heroine who starts hearing voices, learns that her life will be much easier if she obeys them, and then has to try to figure out what the hell they want her to do. At the prompting of a toy wax lion, she gets involved in the lives of strangers and the relative strangers who make up her family. The woman performing that tracheotomy is her sister, Sharon (Katie Finneran), at the end of a blind date gone horribly wrong.

The show, which was created by an impressively yet ominously pedigreed team (co-creator Bryan Fuller was also responsible for the late Showtime series, Dead Like Me, and executive producer Tim Minear wrote and directed on Firefly and Angel), can't quite decide if it's a screwball comedy, a metaphysical exploration or a family drama.

Over the course of the series, Jaye is compelled to shift her attitude from that of a self-involved twenty-something who's too cool to care about others into an engaged adult who's trying to make a positive difference in the world (albeit not entirely willingly). In each episode, one or more inanimate objects (called "muses" by the show's creators) badgers Jaye with repeated commands. As central plot motivators, these animals and their messages are often exasperating. Sometimes the animals speak in koan-like phrases that seem calculated to be as vague and misleading as possible. In these cases, we're stuck watching Jaye make her "best" guess, only to do the opposite of what was wanted. Other times (i.e., when it serves the plot), the muses are maddeningly clear and specific, as when a stuffed iguana finally tells Jaye how to get out of the building at the tail end of a hostage crisis.

The show succeeds as a family dramedy, as Jaye tries to cope with both her "gift" and her wacky parents and siblings. The family angle also raises the question of who is really crazy—her family all appear to be living successful lives, yet harbor secrets ranging from being a closeted lesbian to being a closeted Democrat, while slacker Jaye hears voices but is at least trying to do the right thing.

Least satisfyingly, the series attempts to incorporate—of course—a love story. The object of Jaye's conflicted desire, Eric (Tyron Leitso), is cute enough, but whether because of the writing or the actors' chemistry, the relationship is never as compelling as the plot needs it to be. Jaye does have chemistry with a castmate, but unfortunately, it's with Lee Pace, who plays her brother, Aaron. Things get even yuckier when the writers set up Aaron with Jaye's best friend, Mahandra, who proceeds to go on and on about how weird it is to have "these feelings" for someone who's just like your brother. Also, repeated claims that Jaye is some sort of man-killer are hard to buy—an appearance from a devastated ex or two might have helped, but instead, all we get is talk that's tough to swallow.

The show's strong points are its inventive humor and visual style, sharp writing and sparkling performances, especially from Dhavernas and Finneran. The effects used to bring the muses to life are creative and usually successful, while the stylistic conceit of the Viewmaster-style credits and transitions are clever beyond almost anything I'veseen on TV. (It doesn't hurt that I'm a Viewmaster collector … but I think evennormal people would find it cool.)

Wonderfalls' plots get a little hokey and contrived, especially later in the season as the writers get bogged down with the romantic storyline. Jaye's lame misinterpretations of the muses’ orders get old—when she's told to "mend what is broken" after dumping Eric, it's preposterous for her not to take the words to mean that she should patch things up with him. Have you ever been around a girl who's smitten? She doesn't need that much encouragement!

The series boasts a great ensemble cast and a standout recurring cameo from Jewel Staite (Kaylee of the late, great Firefly), who shows her range as a bitchy sorority girl scorned.

Presentation
The three-disc set comes in a slipcase box with two slim-line keep cases. The Viewmaster theme is carried onto the discs themselves.

The show is presented in anamorphic widescreen and the transfers are crisp and clean with good saturation and no noticeable compression artifacts or edge sharpening.

The English 5.1 surround mixes aren’t overly aggressive, reflecting the show’s focus on dialogue.

DVD Features
Since only four of these episodes were aired, almost everything in this set is an “extra.”

Six commentary tracks with actors Dhavernas and Finneran and series creators Todd Holland and Bryan Fuller provide insight into plot decisions and the complications of last-minute casting changes.

Welcome to Wonderfalls – This 22-minute docu on the series' creation, the cast, the muses and the music features interviews with Dhavernas, Finneran, Holland and Fuller. The creators reveal that their "Save our series" campaign essentially started before the first episode aired, and star Dhavernas reminisces about visiting the fan Web site daily for inspiration. Also discusses alternate names for the series, such as “Touched by a Crazy Person” and “Babble Head."

Fantastic Visual Effects – A fun, three-minute short on the animation effects for the muses.

Music video – My first take on the video for Partridge’s theme song was, “This proves that just because you can act, you can't necessarily lip-sync worth a damn.” However, I found the video less embarrassing on additional viewings … it’s actually kind of cute. At any rate, it’s a way to hear the whole track.

Bottom Line
If you appreciate quirky humor and want to get into a TV series that doesn’t require the dedication and decoder ring you’d need to understand Lost, you’ll enjoy Wonderfalls: The Complete Viewer Collection.  I especially recommend it for fans of female-led series like Buffy and Veronica Mars.

Even in light of its shortfalls, Wonderfalls feels like a breath of fresh air compared to average television fare. With out-of-left-field humor and charming performances, these 13 episodes deserve a screening in your living room.