Tom Jones

"Adopt the bastard, your worship?" Poor Tom Jones (Max Beesley)--alternately referred to as a bastard, the son of a whore, and the offspring of a country slut within the opening fifteen minutes of A&E's latest literary adaptation--is, after Dickens' very different orphan Oliver Twist, English literature's best known foundling. Here, 18-century novelist Henry Fielding himself appears as a character to guide viewers through the enjoyably labyrinthine tale of Tom's quest for the heart of next-door neighbor Sophia Western (Samantha Morton). Unfortunately, Tom is beset on all sides by a sea of troubles, including Sophia's father, Squire Western (outrageously played by Brian Blessed, whose favorite response to contradiction is "kiss my ass"), a series of low- and high-society women whom Jones is obliged to favor--not always against his will--with his amorous attentions, and the conniving Master Blifil, who wants Tom's girl and any fortune which might come his way. On the whole, Tom Jones is a faithful and wonderful romp through a time when "letters" were of the utmost importance, women could be "undone," and seduction was a verbal art first and a hormonal dance later. And if I occasionally thought the humor a little overplayed, Fielding stayed my critical hand with the following withering observation:"...nor can society produce a more abject vermin than the critic." Ouch, Hank. Recommended. Aud: P. (R. Pitman)