If I Whisper That I Like This Show, Do You Promise Not to Tell?

Last May, I was most aggrieved to learn that Joan of Arcadia, at the time my favorite show on television, had been cancelled. Its replacement was to be Ghost Whisperer, because CBS head Les Moonves thought the vital young adult demographic would rather watch a show about a 20-something woman talking to ghosts than a teenage girl talking to God. I was disgusted, and I vowed not to watch Joan's replacement and to glare at the television whenever I saw it advertised in hopes that I could telekinetically force its failure. But then a most unfortunate thing happened. I saw the show.

I was flipping channels on a Friday night, and my curiosity got the better of me. In the episode, Melinda Gordon (Jennifer Love Hewitt), a soft-spoken, tender-hearted newlywed who owns an antique shop, discovers a trio of dirty young boys, along with their dog, in a big old inn that used to serve as an orphanage. She soon learns that they died in a fire there decades earlier, and she hurries to convince them to "cross over" before the building is demolished by a wealthy gentleman who seems to have a vendetta against the property. Melinda quickly wins the trust of two of the boys, timid Ernie (Zach Mills) and spunky Marty (Terrence Hardy Jr.), but tough-talking ringleader Rat (James Henrie) is harder to convince. The episode, entitled Lost Boys, relies heavily on the extended metaphor of Peter Pan, with Melinda as Wendy, Rat as Peter and his pals as the lost boys. And it's enchanting.

I didn't want to like the show, but by the conclusion I confess I shed a tear or two, and that doesn't usually happen to me - though I think I'm becoming more of a softie, or developing more overactive tear ducts, in my old age. Had my first exposure been another episode, perhaps I wouldn't have been so drawn in; this remains my favorite of the episodes, though any dealing with children tend to tug at my heartstrings. At any rate, while I remain upset with the decision to cancel Joan of Arcadia, I'm forced to admit that I really do enjoy this show about a woman who lives a double life, earning a living by selling old objects (sometimes with spirits attached) while committing the bulk of her time to helping ghosts deal with their unresolved issues so they can quit hanging around Earth. In this sense, she is rather like a superhero, dedicating her life to helping others but only revealing her superpower to those who need her assistance. Well, and to two very special people.

Unlike Joan of Arcadia, Ghost Whisperer does not have a large supporting cast of character who recur week after week. Only two characters regularly appear throughout the first season: Melinda's good-natured, devoted husband Jim (David Conrad) and her best friend and business partner, Andrea Moreno (Aisha Tyler), both of whom know of Melinda's unusual abilities. Rarely appearing but often on Melinda's mind is her mother (Ann Archer), who disapproves of Melinda's use of her powers, although they were nurtured by her grandmother (June Squibb). The small principal cast and the focus on one or two particular ghosts per week makes this reminiscent of Touched By An Angel, Highway to Heaven, Quantum Leap, Kung Fu and other shows in which one or two people spend their lives assisting others with a little help from some unusual abilities or divine assistance.

Of course, if Highway to Heaven was on shaky theological ground, Ghost Whisperer doesn't seem to have much of a Judeo-Christian viewpoint at all. It's very New-Agey, with references in every episode to "the light," where the departed must go in order to find peace, but never to God. While most ghosts are simply misguided and confused, we are introduced toward the end of the season to a demonic presence compelling spirits to remain on Earth. It's all right in line with Sylvia Browne, the self-proclaimed psychic who appears on Montel every week. Of course, it also is reminiscent of Ghost and The Sixth Sense, two of my favorite movies, so I'm not complaining much.

What's nice about Ghost Whisperer is that Melinda is such an incredibly compassionate person - much more pure-hearted, I'm sad to say, than snarky Joan - and nearly every episode ends on a heartwarming note as she manages to make life better for both departed and bereaved. Because of this spirit that drives the show, I tune in despite its muddled philosophy (and extremely freaky opening sequence) and my continued disappointment over the loss of Joan of Arcadia. It won't be making my top ten list of all-time favorite shows any time soon, but if Joan had to be replaced, I'd much rather it be with this than another reality TV show.