The Owens household faces potential chaos: Two working parents and three unsupervised children! In sweeps Mr. Belvedere, British nanny/housekeeper, imposing order on America's suburban anarchy. From this simple yet preposterous premise, a classic sitcom was born. Though popular sportscaster Bob Uecker (Major League) was the first actor cast (as hapless father George), the success of Mr. Belvedere rests on two sets of shoulders: Christopher Hewett, as the snippy but affectionate Lynn Belvedere, and Brice Beckham, as Wesley, the smallest, smartest, and wiliest of the Owens children. The rest of the family--George, mother Marsha (Ilene Graff), teenage brother and sister Kevin and Heather (Rob Stone and Tracy Wells)--get to have their moments, but Hewett and Beckham dominate the show, and deservedly so. Though ostensibly a fish-out-of-water/culture-clash comedy, Mr. Belvedere is secretly about the amoral drives of childhood slowly being shaped into the civilized consciousness of adult life. Or, to put it another way, Wesley is a cunning, self-serving brat being taught compassion and thoughtfulness by the effective one-two punch of Mr. Belvedere's barbed comments and gentle wisdom. What makes the show delightful (and delightfully subversive) is that Mr. Belvedere doesn't teach Wesley rigid notions of right and wrong, as might happen in a more conventional sitcom. Instead of laying down rules, Mr. Belvedere seeks to awaken Wesley's conscience; he inspires the pint-sized schemer to look at the world, recognize injustice, and make up his own mind what to do about it. This may take the form of being nice to guests at a party or standing up for a friend who's ostracized because he has AIDS. The AIDS episode, which came out during the Reagan era, may have been a cultural landmark, but Mr. Belvedere treated everyday social conflicts with the same mixture of gravity and wit. Don't get the wrong idea: This is a formulaic sitcom, with all the slapstick and gags-per-minute that requires. But what keeps Mr. Belvedere from being Alf with a plump Brit instead of a second-rate muppet was this surprising sense of humane purpose. This, combined with the great rapport of Hewett and Beckham, resulted in surprisingly good television. Extras include some sweet reminiscences by the cast and a sour Saturday Night Live sketch about a Mr. Belvedere fan club. --Bret Fetzer