Tom Jones

Having established himself as the premiere purveyor of the rather grungy and depressing British Kitchen-Sink movement with A Taste of Honey and The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner, director Tony Richardson spun about 180-degrees with 1963's joyful adaptation of Tom Jones, a giddy romp through 17th century England following the amorous adventures of a well-to-do bastard who was, by all accounts, "born to hang." While the rampant sexism may be as humorously out-of-date as the early Bond films, Albert Finney could charm the pants off 99% of the #MeToo movement with his star-making turn as the chivalrous but weak-willed hero desperately trying elevate his station and earn the love of his beloved Sophie Western (Susannah York).

Raised as foundling by a wealthy landowner, Tom is blessed with dashing good looks and a heart of gold. Unfortunately, he's also a bit naive about the rules and regulations involved with aristocratic life. Framed for a pregnancy he didn't commit, Tom is cast out into the cruel world where he runs afoul of one ridiculous circumstance after another, usually involving a woman. But through it all, he pines after the affections of Sophie, his highborn neighbor next door, who has actually chased after him despite her father's wishes. The two suffer a series of spats and comic misunderstands before Tom finally finds himself about to take a long fall at the end of a short rope.

Tom Jones is all in good fun; Finney's frequent fourth-wall breaks make the audience complicit in the fact with casual deftness. And Richardson uses every cinematic trick in the book - from silent film title cards and under-cranked camera hijinks - to lighten the mood. Yet he's deceptively skillful in introducing an entirely new approach to period piece comedy (Woody Allen and Mel Brooks certainly lifted a trick or two for their own historical spoofs). "I have shot it all as if it's happening today," Richardson says regarding the film's style. And the handheld veracity of the fox hunt sequence - staged like a chaotic tailgate party at a modern sporting event - is proof that the director didn't leave all the realism of the Kitchen Sink genre behind him.

The cast - including a young David Warner as Tom's despicable half-brother - is uniformly excellent. So much so that Finney often gets lost in the shuffle of his own film. But every time the camera captures his ear-to-ear grin, the audience falls back in line. The lustful buffet sequence, with lobster claws and ripe fruit serving as a sloppy bit of unsubtle foreplay, was worth a Best Picture nomination all on its own. But Tom Jones managed to actually win four Oscars, including Best Picture, at a time when having fun at the movies was something the Academy actually rewarded rather than punished.

Now part of the Criterion Collection, Tom Jones debuts on Blu-ray with a new 4K digital restoration of the original theatrical version and 1989 Director's Cut. Extras include featurettes on the film's cinematography, interviews with composer John Addison, editor Robert Lambert, film scholar Duncan Petrie and Vanessa Redgrave (ex-wife of director Tony Richardson), an excerpt from The Dick Cavett Show featuring Albert Finney, plus an essay by film scholar Neil Sinyard.