It is one of the great advantages of modern technology that we are not only able through a number of services to stream current movies at home, but we also are able to download movies that we have seen in the past and wish to revisit.
I was made particularly aware of this when watching the latest Masterpiece Theatre series on PBS. Masterpiece Theatre has indeed been marked by a number of truly great offerings, including I, Claudius and Bleak House. At their finest, especially in the adaptation of novels, they provide great entertainment, at the same time prompting one to return to the books on which they are based. At their best, they remain true to the spirit and narratives of the works on which they are based and also prove to be fine examples of the new medium.
So it was that I warmly greeted the latest in the series: Tom Jones. Sadly, I have been disappointed in the viewing. However, it did prompt me to return to the 1963 film version.
People of a certain age will remember that the film was regarded by many as immoral; indeed, it was actually banned in Alberta, resulting in organized bus trips to B.C.
Of course like the novel itself, Tom Jones the film is clearly a controversial work in that its hero is noted for being involved in a number of sexual escapades. In reality, author Henry Fielding was trying to write a book which had important moral lessons. He was actually intent on satirizing a society which he saw as guilty of a host of sins, including hypocrisy, mistreatment of the poor and disadvantaged, greed and false pride – a veritable catalogue of the deadly sins in which he recognized that there are other commandments than the sixth.
His main intent was to present a morality fully in keeping with the teachings of the New Testament: the only way to overcome the evils of sin is through generosity, kindness, and love. It was his genius that allowed him to frame his moral criticism of society in a plot of enormous complexity, laced in the narrator’s voice with comedic and trenchant commentary.
To adapt all this to the screen presents a challenge, but in 1963 playwright John Osborne and director Tony Richardson did it to such great effect that the film won four Oscars, including Best Picture.
It is indeed a film of enormous merit. Superbly acted by a brilliant cast and graced with a musical score that hints at everything from 18th-century classical music to the kind that used to accompany silent movies, it employs a variety of cinematic techniques ranging from fast motion to removal of the “fourth wall,” from the gorgeously romantic to the grimly grotesque.
In its two-hour running time it still manages to retain the tone and style of the narration with a humourous voice-over commentary while also including the complexities of the novel’s plot.
At the same time, it offers a comprehensive depiction of 18th-century English society, rural and city, rich and poor. It even includes a brilliant hunting sequence which undoubtedly played a role in the banning of hunting in England.
It is by turns romantic, farcical, comedic, and dramatic, in large measure because it is presented in a boisterous, energetic, and lively style. Thoroughly entertaining, it is certainly one of the great achievements of British cinema.
Sadly, almost none of this is true of the latest Masterpiece interpretation. Told in a plodding manner, it limps along at a slow pace, unfolding the plot in a labourious fashion quite at odds with the spirit and panache of both the novel and the 1963 film version. At best, it may be described as dully workmanlike. It is noteworthy that the television adaptation of the novel is less faithful to the original plot than the film, though it is considerably longer in running time.
The consolation is that the 1963 film is easily available for download on a number of services, so rather than having to work one’s way through the television series one can return to delight again in the film – or if one is unfortunate enough not to have seen it, to remedy this with the pleasant experience of doing so at home.
And then one may even wish to read the (very lengthy) novel.