Smith

Review by Laurence Marcus

Thames Television’s 1970 adaptation of Smith, dramatised by Stanley Miller from Leon Garfield’s award-winning novel, is an atmospheric, occasionally dark but thoroughly engaging slice of children's period drama.

Garfield was renowned for his historical novels aimed at children, although he also authored works for adults. Throughout his career, he wrote over thirty books and contributed to the television series Shakespeare: The Animated Tales. His inaugural book, the pirate novel Jack Holborn, was initially intended for an adult audience. However, an editor at his publishers, A. Constable & Co. identified its potential as a children's novel and convinced Garfield to modify it for a younger readership. This version was subsequently published by Constable in 1964. Garfield's second book, Devil-in-the-Fog (1966), received the inaugural Guardian Prize and was adapted into a television series in 1968.

With its grubby Georgian backstreets, roguish anti-hero, and swirling conspiracy, Smith manages to walk a fine line between hearty adventure and gritty social commentary — all while maintaining a wry sense of humour.

Set in late 18th-century London, the series centres on Smith (played with spirited charm by Ian Ramsey), a streetwise yet oddly charming ragamuffin whose life is turned upside-down when he lifts a bundle of seemingly worthless papers from a well-dressed gentleman — only to see that same gentleman brutally murdered moments later for the very papers the lad now has in his possession. Unwittingly the custodian of something far more valuable and dangerous than he ever imagined, the boy goes on the run, hunted not only by the law but by a sinister trio of men known only as Mr Black (George Innes), Mr Grey (Michael Goldie), and Mr Brown (Leon Collins), whose interest in the papers suggests that they would not be merely content with the boy simply handing them over.

Despite being unable to read, Smith gradually learns of the document's value with the help of his sisters (Jo Rowbottom and Cheryl Hall) and a blind magistrate who may have a legitimate claim to the mysterious papers. As he tries to avoid Newgate prison, Smith finds himself helping this unlikely ally in the hope of both justice and survival.

What makes Smith especially engaging is its deft balance of tone. Though aimed at younger audiences, the series never talks down to its viewers. It is exciting, sometimes darkly so, with undercurrents of real threat and a palpable sense of peril. Yet it also retains a sly humour, with a knowing nod to the tropes of the adventure genre. The series' depiction of poverty and marginalisation is more than mere backdrop — it is integral to the narrative and delivered with a Dickensian vividness that never feels forced or preachy.

The direction by Michael Currer-Briggs is brisk and atmospheric, evoking the grime and danger of 18th-century London with commendable economy, especially given the limitations of television production at the time. The supporting cast is strong, with the three villainous gentlemen in particular relishing their roles with delicious menace. There’s blood (implied if not shown), genuine menace, and moral ambiguity - not least in its young protagonist, who is no angel, yet wholly sympathetic. This was a series that trusted its audience to handle complexity, and it’s all the stronger for it.

Sadly, like many of Thames’ younger viewer productions of the era, Smith has largely slipped from public memory, overshadowed by better-preserved or more frequently rebroadcast contemporaries. That’s a shame, as this remains an energetic and intelligent piece of family drama, one that deserves rediscovery.

Verdict (2025 perspective):

★★★★☆
A gripping, atmospheric and mischievously macabre tale of treachery, treasure, and survival. Smith is children’s adventure television at its most artful, and most daring. Well worth seeking out.