At first blush — and I do mean blush — you may wonder about the sensibility of PBS' latest Jane Austen movie. It opens like a literal bodice-ripper on a scene of bare flesh and fiery passions: Bizarro-World Jane?

Not to worry. This overheated prologue, which is explained much later, is intended as a sharp contrast to the more genteel but emotionally charged romance that follows. Master adapter Andrew Davies' two-part Sense and Sensibility provides a flavorful, spirited finale to Masterpiece's "The Complete Jane Austen" series.

It lacks the star power (Hugh Grant, Emma Thompson, Kate Winslet) of Ang Lee's 1995 Oscar winner. But Austen's characters are so enduring and endearing in their virtues, vanities and passionate follies that they don't require movie stars to bring them to life.

Hattie Morahan and Charity Wakefield are agreeably understated and instantly sympathetic as sisters Elinor (the quietly suffering pragmatist) and Marianne (the reckless romantic). Dispossessed after their father's death and downgraded from the family manor to a cramped seaside cottage with their warm, wise mother (the excellent Janet McTeer), they endure many humiliating social impediments in their quest for love.

The men they covet are charmers, even the invariable cad. The villains are wonderfully hissable, especially Jean Marsh (Upstairs, Downstairs) as a monstrous matron whose purse strings decide several couples' fates.

All along, we yearn for these deserving heroines to get their happy endings, which has but one downside. When they find their bliss, it means the story (and this Austen series) is actually over. Which is why we tend to reread and rewatch. The sign of a true masterpiece.

Sense and Sensibility air Sundays, March 30 and April 6 on PBS; check local listings.

Tracey Ullman's State of the Union

A comic chameleon with few peers, Tracey Ullman can be anyone and everyone, from a blog-mad Arianna Huffington to a drab philosopher-at-the-clothesline in Nebraska to Renée Zellweger and her "chronic narcissistic squint."

Too bad the state of Ullman's comedy isn't as sharp as her protean gifts. Depressingly hit-or-miss (mostly miss), each episode of her sketchy State of the Union series presents a day-in-the-life panorama of polyglot American types. One moment she's a celeb, the next a pharmacist who breaks into zany Bollywood dances.

Even when her aim is true, her targets are flimsy: environmentalist Laurie David on a Gulfstream, a henpecked David Beckham, Campbell Brown broadcasting nightly panic alerts.

We know Ullman has range. What this Union needs is focus.

Tracey Ullman's State of the Union airs Sundays at 10 pm/ET on Showtime starting March 30.