A ROLLICKING SATIRE
TOM JONES
Directed by David Greenham; adapted by David Greenham from the novel by
Henry Fielding; costume design by Luke Brown
With: Mike Anthony, Mark S. Cartier, Kathleen L. Nation, Melissa Graves,
Marcy Amell, Patrick Pope, R. Chris Reeder, Maureen Tannian Butler, and
Dennis Price
Performed in repertory at the Theater at Monmouth in Monmouth, Maine
From July 27 to August 24, 2007
Reviewed by Laurie
Meunier Graves
“There is perhaps no surer mark of folly, than to attempt
to correct the natural infirmities of those we love.”
—Henry Fielding, The History of Tom Jones, a Foundling
A friend, who is in her sixties, once remarked that one
of the biggest, most important changes in her lifetime has been the advent
of birth control, specifically the pill. She recalls that when she was in
high school, a student she knew suddenly went away for a spell, perhaps to
visit an “aunt” or some other relative. Later my friend discovered that this
girl had in fact become pregnant and was sent to a home for unwed mothers
where she could have the child, who would then be adopted and not bring
shame upon the family.
The leitmotif of unwanted and unplanned pregnancy runs
like a current through Tom Jones, set in England in the 1700s. After all, the eponymous hero is
left as a foundling child to be cared for by the kindly but stern Squire
Allworthy and his equally kindhearted sister Bridget. When Squire Allworthy
thinks he has found the child’s mother, she gets a lecture as well as some
money and the promise that her child will be well cared for by him and his
sister Bridget. When pressed to reveal the identity of the father, Tom
Jones’s mother refuses, thus carrying the full burden of shame with all its
Scarlet Letter implications. Whoever the father is, we can be sure
that for him baby Tom’s arrival is a most “inconvenient truth,” which is
best hidden.
In different hands and in different times, Tom’s story
could have been one of unremitting woe and shame. Indeed, a hundred years or
so later, Dickens would mine similar territory with compassion and outrage
but not much humor. Henry Fielding (1707–1754), however, chose a divergent, lighter route to
handle this serious subject, using satire and pungent humor to illuminate
the folly, hypocrisy, and cruelty of mankind. But along with the wit
and satire, there is also generosity and affection, which work to leaven the
sharpness of Fielding’s observations, and, in the end, Tom Jones
emerges as a shrewd yet humane story. Tom Jones may be buffeted by fate and
foiled by circumstance, but his buoyant nature, his essential goodness, will
not let him sink, and it inspires many around him to defend and protect him.
The paperback edition of The History of Tom Jones, a
Foundling is over one thousand pages long, and the Theater at Monmouth’s
Producing Director David Greenham undertook a formidable task when he
decided to adapt the story for the stage. Squeezing one thousand pages into
two or two and half hours couldn’t have been easy, but fortunately, in Maine
the winters are long. What else to do on a cold winter’s night but to work
at writing an adaptation for Tom Jones?
Maine theatergoers can be thankful that Greenham decided
to tackle such a big project, and, when they see the results, they will be
even more thankful. The Theater at Monmouth’s Tom Jones is a
sparkling success, a witty, “bawdy” romp that never loses sight of the moral
undertones of the story and makes us root for the hero the whole time.
To achieve Fielding’s wry tone and aphorisms, Greenham
added a narrator appropriately called Henry Fielding, and he is played with
wonderful crispness by Dennis Price. In both movies and plays, awkward,
unnecessary, or heavy-handed narration can sink a production, and I was a
little uneasy when it became obvious that Price was going to be narrating on
and off the entire time. However, his witty observations added a lot to the
play, and it really did feel a bit like having Fielding on hand to provide
commentary.
As for the plot, it twists and turns until it loops back
on itself for an ending that can only be called a grand finale. Here is a
brief summation: Tom Jones, as previously mentioned, is raised by Squire
Allworthy and his sister, who unfortunately gets married and produces an
heir. This means that Tom Jones, who, after all, is only a foundling, will
receive a comfortable inheritance, but he will not get Squire Allworthy’s
estate. Instead, the duplicitous Blifil, Bridget’s son, will be the heir.
Not content to inherit his uncle’s entire estate, Blifil, who has a jealous,
vengeful nature (unlike his sweet mother), is determined to undercut Tom by
any means possible. Blifil succeeds, and our hero is unfairly banished,
leaving behind the estimable Sophia Weston, Tom’s true love. Sophia loves
Tom, too, but her gruff father wants her to marry Blifil, so that both
estates can be joined. While Tom hightails it to Bristol, even though he
doesn’t know the way, Sophia decides to flee to a relative in London, even
though she doesn’t know the way. Their paths cross without an encounter
until after much sexual romping and folderol, everyone winds up in London,
where Tom is falsely accused of killing a man. Poor Tom! It’s just one
darned thing after another. Tom’s friends and enemies converge in court,
where the narrator appropriately takes on the role of a judge and metes out
a fair and satisfying justice. The judge is aided by a convergence of events
and coincidences so often found in older British stories, and although they
are wildly improbable, they are nonetheless satisfying.
By my count, there are at least thirty actors involved in
Monmouth’s Tom Jones—at the beginning of this piece, I’ve only listed
the main characters. At a time when many theaters, for budgetary reasons,
feature plays with small casts, it is extremely satisfying to see a stage
crammed full with actors, bringing a terrific vitality that just can’t be
duplicated with fewer people.
This whole, huge cast did a fine job with the play; there
wasn’t one weak performance. Special mention, however, must go to Mike
Anthony and Marcy Amell, who respectively play Tom Jones and Sophia Western.
Mike Anthony’s Tom Jones is chipper, open-faced, and appealing. He
immediately engages the audience’s sympathies, and it’s completely
believable that he would win Sophia’s heart. By the same token, Marcy Amell
plays Sophia with a winning combination of spunk, commonsense, decency, and
forbearance. Even when Sophia discovers Tom has been unfaithful on more than
one occasion, she forgives and loves him. And even though Tom is a flawed
hero, we want him to wind up with Sophia because we know that despite his
transgressions, he loves her, too. For a love story to work, it is
absolutely essential that we care about the lovers. Furthermore, we must
want them to be together, and Anthony and Amell very much succeed on both
counts.
Henry Fielding wrote at a time when sex often led to
unwanted pregnancies, and those without an estate had a hard time making it
in the world. While pious men condemned those who gave in to carnal
impulses, they often did the very same thing and relied on others to cover
their transgressions. On the surface, Tom Jones might seem like a
celebration of the pleasures of the body, and it certainly does revel in
earthy delights. But Fielding also makes it clear what the consequences of
this might be and how they are not always pleasant. Along with being a
first-rate satirist, he was also a keen moralist, and I mean this in the
best sense. The late, great V. S. Pritchett wrote that Fielding is
“arbitrary but not destructive…of the eighteenth century’s three scourgers
of mankind, he is the least egotistical and most moral. He has not destroyed
the world; he has merely turned it upside down…”
Many thanks to David Greenham and to the Theater at
Monmouth for bringing us the “upside down” yet highly entertaining world of
Henry Fielding.
