AROUND THE WORLD IN 80 DAYS (UA/Magna, 1956) Warner Home Video
BEST PICTURE -
1956
Difficult today
to place one’s head in the mindset of Academy voters honoring Michael Todd’s
mammoth travelogue, Around the World in
80 Days (1956). As Best Picture winners go, it’s a one-of-a-kind oddity.
Certainly, nothing like it had been seen on the screen before. Perhaps, such
novelty played its part in the enthrallment; the picture surpassing such
titanic efforts as George Stevens’ Giant,
DeMille’s The Ten Commandments and
Darryl F. Zanuck’s personally supervised production of Rodgers and
Hammerstein’s The King and I. Still,
Todd’s opus magnum proved the one that could not be denied. Having spent a
bundle on its pre-planning, after a failed attempt (together with Orson Welles)
to bring such spectacle to the Broadway stage, Todd endeavored to give
audiences a grand show – perhaps not of narrative force or even marginal
strength, but of mammoth scope and size, unprecedented in the history of
film-making and blindingly all-star. His
timing could not have been more apropos. After the fallow war years, Hollywood
emerged like a hungry bear from hibernation, ready to launch into its most
profligate decade yet. Even so, Jules Verne’s 1873 novel was hardly ideal; a
clumsily strung together series of misadventures following the exploits of a
staunchly determined adventurist who enters into a seemingly impossible wager –
to encircle the globe by whatever means at his disposal in a mere eighty days –
purely to save face at his gentleman’s club. In preparing Around the World in 80 Days, Todd was resolute his movie should
have every luxury; amassing a mind-boggling potpourri of talent that only a
bullish showman of his enterprising bombast would dare. “There have been many other pictures loaded with big names,” Todd
would later admit, “…but the story has
always been built around the stars. My idea was to have each star fit the part
in the story…besides, running into them, (like) old friends, is one of the many
delights of this production."
Indeed, Todd may
have had something there; his coining of the term ‘cameo’ becoming common
practice in the movies ever since. Most of the famous names featured in Around the World in 80 Days came to the
project with little cajoling while others, like imminent stage and screen star,
Noel Coward, would eruditely suggest later on, “Todd bullied me over an inferior lunch and so I just gave in!” Around the World in 80 Days is really
not a movie, per say, but the manifestation of Todd’s driving ambition to give
his audience a spectacular visual feast of every movie idea ever conceived; all
rolled into one intoxicating and delicious pantheon of screen magic. At
intervals, it’s a lavishly appointed drama, a comedy, a race against time, a
road picture, and an adventurist’s escapist daydream, teeming with a visual
resplendence few movies of either the past or present can hope to compete; a
daring and decorous cavalcade of stars doing what they used to do best.
The original
prologue intended for Todd’s brainchild was of travelling companions, Phileas
Fogg (David Niven) and Passepatout (Cantiflas) seated comfortably on a modern
Boeing commercial airliner, marveling at the aerial view from 10,000 feet; the
rest of the passenger list padded out by some of the stars who would later
appear ‘in cameo’ somewhere in the rest of the film. But as other concepts
began to metastasize to Todd’s fertile imagination, he harbored even greater
delusions of grandeur. Eventually, Todd settled on a series of curiosities to
open his show; a prologue featuring respected newsman, Edward R. Murrow
narrating the history of travel itself; also, man’s aspirations to venture on a
trip into outer space. From here, Around
the World in 80 Days moved into a truncated screening of Georges Méliès’
1902 silent sci-fi classic, A Trip to
the Moon, then, a top-secret rocket launch somewhere in the New Mexican
desert. During this the latter sequence, the traditional 1.33:1 Academy aspect
ratio of the screen dramatically opened to reveal the expansive curved vistas
of the Todd A-O screen. At a glance today, these introductory moments seem
relatively archaic and not terribly prepossessing. Indeed, on the surface they have
nothing to do with the central narrative about to regress us all the way back
to 1872. Yet, set aside ‘modern day’
prejudices and Todd’s audacity to provide us with context via contrast is
already awe-inspiring brilliant.
At its core Around the World in 80 Days deifies
progress, not only in mass communication and man’s ongoing exploration of the
world, but equally as a showcase for the technological advancements in
movie-making. As Todd had never produced a movie before, he placed his zeal in
the capable hands of accomplished British director, Michael Anderson. The
film’s pedigree continued to expand with the hiring of James Poe, John Farrow
and S.J. Perelman to bring cohesion to the screenplay; Victor Young to write a
memorable score, and Lionel Linden to lens the spectacle in the less
complicated, but just as cumbersome Todd A-O process, employing its unique
‘bug-eye’ lens, capable of capturing 120 degrees in a single shot. Initially,
John Farrow had been assigned to direct the picture. But after a mere two days
shooting, Todd fired him and took on Anderson in his stead. The split came
during the location work in Toledo, Spain for the sumptuously mounted corrida –
or bullfight sequence. In retrospect, it’s one of the most spectacular
sequences in the picture if not, in fact, its lopsided centerpiece; employing
6,500 extras (most of them inhabitants from the tiny hamlet of Chinchón), with
Todd eventually importing another 3,500 from Madrid.
To accommodate
the gargantuan assignment of clothing everybody, Todd turned to the vast
storehouses of the Western Costume Company – the largest costumier in Hollywood.
Alas, Around the World in 80 Days
proved so titanic an effort, Todd would eventually raid the costume and prop
departments of MGM, Universal, Paramount, Fox and Warner Bros.; in essence,
tapping every major studio in Hollywood to sheath his characters in a patina of
ultra-glamour. A lot of Around the World
in 80 Days was shot on sound stages and/or back lot facades, in addition to
a daunting production schedule that included no less than 13 countries and 116
locations. To add even more cache to class, Todd sought out the biggest names
in showbiz on both sides of the Atlantic; beginning with Noel Coward. “Get Coward and you’ll have the rest,”
Todd later admitted. And so, it proved to be true; the likes of John Gielgud,
also Trevor Howard, Robert Morley and Robert Newton falling into line. The
latter proved a cause for concern. Newton had been one of Britain’s brightest
stars before ramped alcoholism brought his fall from grace. In engaging Newton
to play the film’s wily Inspector Fix, Todd made the actor promise he would not
only remain sober while working, but on the wagon with not a drop of booze to
spare. Desperate to work again, Newton agreed to these terms, but immediately
following completion of his part in the movie, went on a bender of such
magnitude it ultimately foreshortened his life. He died without ever seeing Around the World in 80 Days completed.
Meanwhile, Todd
was endeavoring to do the impossible. His first order of business was to secure
the famous Mexican comedian, Cantinflas for the pivotal role of Fogg’s
ever-devoted man servant, Passepartout (described as a Frenchman in the Jules
Verne novel), whose healthy penchant for young ladies frequently lands him in
trouble. To date, Cantinflas had resisted doing any American film; enjoying
unprecedented notoriety and good fortune as an undisputed comic genius in his
native Mexico. Indeed, at the time Around
the World in 80 Days went into production he was a much beloved figure. He
owned his own studio in Mexico and wielding autonomy unlike any other star of
his generation – except, perhaps, Chaplin. While Cantiflas would later suggest
his reluctance was heavily influenced by his lack of mastering the English
language, he nevertheless garnered praise for his Chaplinesque quality. Chaplin
himself called Cantiflas the greatest living comedian. Accepting second billing
under David Niven, Cantiflas would reap the rewards when Around the World in 80 Days began to ring cash registers
everywhere. Its’ overwhelming success would make Cantiflas the highest paid
actor of his generation.
About billing:
although David Niven’s name would remain above the rest for the American
release, abroad, these credits were altered so Cantiflas’ name dominated the
marquee. Viewing Around the World in 80
Days today, one can see how great Todd’s respect was for this Spanish
social satirist who clearly has the meatier and more flamboyant of the two
costarring roles. To play the congenial world traveler, Phileas Fogg, Todd
turned to David Niven whose pre-war career in Hollywood had slightly stalled
after the war. Nevertheless, Niven had born a reputation as a dedicated
workhorse and was so pleased by Todd’s blunt pitch to star in the picture he
offered to do the role for nothing; an allowance Niven was grateful Todd
refused to accept when the landslide of residuals began pouring in. Niven, a
Scot by birth (though frequently mistaken as the epitome of the erudite Brit),
evidently received a telephone call from Todd one Sunday in 1955; Todd, bluntly
inquiring if the man on the other end was, in fact, Niven and then commanding
he go immediately to the house of Joseph Schenck for a tête-à-tête and to shake
hands on the deal. “I cleverly protected
myself by picking up my agent along the way,” Niven would later muse. He really had nothing to fear. Todd, among
other things, was a man of his word – generally, a man of few, but always,
potently, a force of nature to be reckoned with. “If he respected you there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for you,”
co-star, Shirley MacLaine (cast as the Indian Princess Aouda) later suggested, “He was tough as nails, but just as fair.”
Todd had been
fascinated by Verne’s pseudo literary epic ever since his failure to bring it
to the stage in 1946. It became a compulsion of sorts for Todd. As a neophyte
film producer, the property had its intangibly delicious appeal. And although
most of the cameos would be filled with stars personally decreed by Todd
himself, the part of Princess Aouda proved something of a minor challenge to
cast. Initially, Todd had hoped to entice Jacqueline Park – a former Miss
Ceylon and also an experienced actress – to accept. Unable to win her
participation (Ms. Park apparently wanted too much money to partake), Todd
briefly toyed with casting either Suzanne Alexander or Marla English; two
long-forgotten names in the cinema firmament. One of Todd’s most endearing
qualities was his mastery of the con – or rather, his ability to make any star
believe a smaller part was of the utmost benefit to their career. As rumors
began to snowball about the producer’s pet project, shaping up to be one of the
grandest entertainments of all time, its’ cost a whopping $6 million (the final
budget swelling to twice that much), Hollywood’s biggest names began to clamor
for an opportunity – however small – to be in it. As such, Todd could afford to
be choosy rather than having to beat a path to the front doors of these stellar
talents he as desperately wanted in his picture.
From such
dizzying heights it was perhaps inevitable Michael Todd’s own star should fall.
But for the moment at least, he was basking in the most glorious coup ever
wrought in a town usually far too jaded to take notice; convincing no less an
authority than Edward R. Murrow to introduce his story, the kaleidoscope of
swirling images of the earth captured by tacking on a camera to the backside of
a guided missile, leading into the real beginning of our story. Around the World in 80 Days is
something of an affront to the precepts of traditional movie-making. Todd had
decreed it such, and his director, Michael Anderson was not about to disagree
with the master showman paying his bills. Indeed, if Todd knew nothing of film-making,
he certainly had a very firm handle on what he liked and also what he fervently
expected to see up on the big screen. Todd was exceptionally proud of the fact
London’s Reform Club, exclusive and haughty for well over a hundred years, had
at least allowed him access to photograph his star, David Niven in full Phileas
Fogg regalia inside its walls. In the film, however, only the exterior of the
club is glimpsed, the rest of it, including a lavishly appointed foyer and
front parlor, constructed at Britain’s Shepperton Studios.
Ever since Todd
A-O’s initial foray with the debut of Rodgers and Hammerstein’s Oklahoma!, Mike Todd had been searching
for the ideal project to really show off what his process could achieve. As an
ex-partner in the Cinerama Corp., Todd was determined to prove to his film-making
peers that his competing wide-gauge film process could be viably used to tell
more than travelogues. Around the World in 80 Days was actually
born of this passion and, in hindsight, the movie excels as a visually
resplendent 70mm test subject, boldly conceived in its compositions and color
design. The idea to transform Jules Verne’s novel into a movie had been British
producer, Alexander Korda’s. He actually owned the film rights to a 1946 Cole
Porter musical adaptation of the novel, produced for the stage by Orson Welles.
Korda would eventually sell off his interests to Todd for a cool $130,000,
forewarning of the unfeasible nature of the project. But with Todd at the
reigns, Welles’ participation fell by the waste side. Todd then briefly courted
independent, William Goetz and Columbia Studios to co-finance the project,
leaking a story to The Hollywood Reporter about a deal already struck. Perhaps
Todd was reaching too high. For Goetz and Columbia would never partake of the
movie; nor, would Columbia’s president, Harry Cohn commit to distributing Around the World in 80 Days even after
some of Todd’s rough cut from his Spanish location shoot had already been
screened.
Todd’s replacement
director, Michael Anderson was intended only to cover the British shoot, with
Todd already planning to hire an American director once production moved
state’s side. But Todd was so impressed with Anderson’s work he decided to keep
him on instead. And so, the globe-trotting began. In London, Todd cluttered the
city streets with all manner of Victorian transportation, including Hansom
cabs, horse-drawn carriages and a Penny-farthing for Passepartout’s arrival at
the employment offices of Roland Hesketh-Baggott. The agency is overseen by a
rather stuffy manager (Noel Coward), who, at present, is listening to the
protestations of Phileas Fogg’s latest ex-valet, Foster (John Gielgud).
Passepartout endeavors to fill this position and, after brief consideration, is
afforded the opportunity to at least try. He finds Fogg a rather demanding
sort, but is unafraid of the challenge to become his right-hand man. In short
order, Fogg is cajoled by various members at the Reform Club into accepting a
wager to do the impossible – encompass the world’s circumference in just eighty
days. For this sequence, Todd gave Fogg a formidable array of Britain’s top
talent, including Findlay Currie, Robert Morley, Trevor Howard, Basil Sidney
and Ronald Squire; the disarming Brits, resurfacing throughout the picture to
chart Phileas’ arduous progress from the comfort of their armchairs.
Meanwhile, Fogg
and his man servant have left London for Paris to book passage inside the
stately offices of Thomas Cook and Sons, presided over by Monsieur Gasse
(Charles Boyer). Passepartout makes a flirtatious nuisance of himself with a
girl at the train station (famed French actress, Martine Carol). She slaps his
face, however, and their carriage rides off through the streets of Paris,
conducted by another beloved French star, Fernandel; a role originally intended
for Maurice Chevalier who, like Jacqueline Park, stalled negotiations with Todd
and was eventually discarded. The
Parisian shoot, although brief, was amongst the most arduous for Todd, who
narrowly escaped incarceration after giving his production team the green light
to break into and push out of the way, or otherwise have towed, various
automobiles parked in the streets, owned by the locals.
Interestingly,
Fogg’s jaunt between Paris to Spain is conducted in a large balloon; a mode of
transportation never discussed in Jules Verne’s novel, but preferred by Todd as
it would afford the Todd A-O process some magnificent aerial views. Taking to
the skies from the French Square set on Universal’s backlot, Fogg and
Passepartout inadvertently land in Spain, encountering the world-famous Flamenco
dancer, José Greco and his entourage in the Cave of the Seven Winds (actually,
a set built at the old RKO studios, soon to become the home of TV’s I Love Lucy). Fogg is determined to
gain access to Achmed Abdullah’s (Roland Gilbert) steam ship to rectify their
oversight and make up for lost time. But Achmed’s henchman (Cesar Romero) is
proprietary about his master’s belongings. Nevertheless, Abdullah is most
impressed when Passepartout demonstrates a bullfighter’s prowess, using a red
table cloth as his cape, to entice one of the female dancers into a spirited
pas deux. If Passepartout will entertain them all with a similar demonstration
in the legitimate bullfighter’s ring the next afternoon, the seafaring vessel
will be given to Fogg without question or charge.
Todd now moves
us into Around the World in 80 Days
first impressive set piece; the corrida, shot on location in the magical town
of Chinchon, Spain and teeming with extras, spectacularly attired by a gracious
whim of fate: more on this in a moment. To contemporary tastes, this sequence
may appear to halt the momentum of Fogg’s globe-trotting journey. In point of
fact, it does exactly that for nearly fifteen minutes; an interminable duration
by today’s impatient standards. But the sequence is so spectacularly staged,
lensed with Todd A-O’s bug-eye to encapsulate the vast expanses and the
glitterati of ole Spain, one simply cannot help but marvel at the spectacle of
it all; also, to reconsider the machinations fraught to bring this moment to
the screen. It began when Todd hired semi-retired bullfighter extraordinaire,
Luis Miguel Dominguín. Even by 1953, bullfighting was vaguely regarded as
quaintly barbaric by the rest of the world. But in Spain, it represented a
national heritage and celebration of both pomp and pageantry, and, human
dexterity and skill. Reportedly, Dominguín enthusiastically agreed to Todd’s
request after only a brief conversation.
“We forgot to mention money,” Todd insisted, to which Dominguín is rumored
to have incredulously replied, “How much
do you need?”
Indeed,
Dominguín could afford to be magnanimous. He was a millionaire. But he also
became quickly disillusioned by the costumes Todd had accrued for this
sequence. Instead, Dominguín offered Todd access to his private collection of
authentic Goya-period museum pieces, amassing an impressive assemblage of Spain’s
most accomplished bandoleros and picadors to appear alongside him in the ring. Eight
identical bulls were used to represent one bull and Cantinflas did all of his
own stunt work. Having conquered the beast and gained the admiration of the
village, Fogg is given access to Abdullah’s steamship. A notorious rumor
develops; that Fogg has stolen £55,000 (approximately £4.3 million in today’s
dollars) from the Bank of England to finance his jaunt around the world. As
such, Scotland Yard detective, Inspector Fix (Robert Newton) picks up Fogg’s
trail in Bombay – or rather – a Bombay set on the 2oth Century-Fox backlot,
ingratiating himself to Passepartout to gain access to his employer. To augment
this sequence, Mike Todd sent a second unit to India to photograph authentic
travelogue moments, later inserted into the picture and infrequently used as
process plates.
Fogg and his man
servant take the Great India Peninsular Railway, befriending Sir Francis
Cromarty (Ronald Colman) of her Majesty’s Royal Fusiliers en route to Calcutta.
Regrettably, the tracks have not been completed and Fogg and company quickly
find themselves at the mercy of the jungle (again, a sequence shot entirely at
2oth Century-Fox with rubber foliage, flora and fauna added). As night falls,
Fogg, Passepartout, Fix and Cromarty witness a funeral processional. It seems an aged Prince has died. By ancient
decree, his much younger wife/now widow, the Princess Aouda (Shirley MacLaine)
must be burned alive atop his funeral pyre so they may spend all eternity together.
Fogg is appalled by this custom, the murder narrowly averted when Passepartout,
masquerading as the corpse, rises from the pyre, causing the inhabitants to
flee into the night. From here, Fix orchestrates a delay in Hong Kong
deliberately designed to separate Fogg and Passepartout, forcing Fogg to forge
on ahead with only the Princess. Fogg and Passepartout are later reunited and
continue on to California’s notorious Barbary Coast; in reality, a thriving
enclave for the criminal element where everything from prostitution and drug
trafficking to white slavery was being practiced. The film’s Barbary Coast
isn’t quite as foreboding. In fact, Todd has staged it as a mostly lavish
evening parade a la Mardi Gras, complete with marching bands, fireworks and cheering
crowds. Fogg, Passepartout, the Princess and Inspector Fix befriend Colonel
Proctor Stamp (John Carradine); a wily San Franciscan politico who intends to
make the next length of the journey across the American west with this
entourage. In the meantime, Passepartout wanders into one of the many saloons,
where he encounters a playful drunk (Red Skelton) at the buffet and the likes
of Frank Sinatra, playing the piano.
We are also
briefly introduced to the saloon’s madam (Marlene Dietrich) and her protector/bouncer
(George Raft), who repeatedly threatens Fogg with a switchblade until everyone
departs for the nearest railway depot. The trek aboard the Durango &
Silverton narrow-gauge railway is hardly a pleasure, despite its picturesque
backdrop of towering and craggy stone buttresses and densely forested canyons.
An Indian attack places everyone in peril, the train’s conductor (Buster
Keaton) taking up arms, along with the Colonel and Fogg. The men had begun
their journey on acrimonious terms, but now discover an alliance against this
enemy. In its initial stages, this sequence was to have included Gregory Peck
as a United States Cavalryman, the part eventually recast by Todd with Tim
McCoy. Todd had also sought out John Wayne, although this time around it was
Wayne who refused to fall into line with Todd’s brash cajoling. Narrowly
averting disaster along a very shaky trestle – it collapses mere moments after
the train has cross it – and, stalled by a buffalo stampede, Fogg and company
are stranded at a barren outpost after their steam locomotive experiences
mechanical difficulties. Fogg’s quick thinking manages to rig a makeshift sail
to a flatbed; the stiff and formidable Santa Anna winds pulling their open cart
along the tracks at a breakneck pace.
To consolidate
the narrative and also manage the film’s skyrocketing budget, we return to the
members of the Reform Club, discussing the latest length of Fogg’s journey from
Omaha to New York where he has boarded a steamer – the Henrietta – to take him
to Venezuela. Herein, we pick up the journey on Fogg’s return sailing to
Britain, the Henrietta running out of fuel in the middle of the ocean and Fogg,
having purchased the vessel outright from its Captain (Jack Oakie)
commandeering every available scrap of lumber, including its masts and
planking, to be torn up and fed into its furnace to ensure their safe return.
Alas, Fogg is met at the Liverpool station by Inspector Fix who is waiting to
arrest him. Delayed yet again, Fogg is
beside himself, believing he has lost the wager by missing his prearranged
Saturday arrival date. A contrite Fix confesses to Fogg the real culprit was
apprehended in Brighton. So, Fogg is free to go. Having begun his journey with
blindsided determination, in his shame now, Fogg is a ruined man – not only by
reputation, but also, financially. Alas, he has discovered how to love another
greater than himself and has acquired the Princess Aouda’s love in return. Fogg
announces to Passepartout he and the Princess shall marry at once and directs
him to fetch a parson.
However, salvation
of a different sort is at hand, when Passepartout hurries past a newspaper
seller, discovering the date on his placard still reading as Saturday. Indeed,
Fogg has quite forgotten to factor in the time zone differences in his global
crossing. He isn’t late. He’s early. But time is running out. Relaying this discovery
to his employer, Fogg now reasons that by crossing the International Date Line
they have, in fact, gained a whole day on their proposed time of return. Fogg
has not lost the wager, but actually arrived home ahead of schedule. There is
still time to reach the Reform Club and win his bet. Meanwhile, at the club, the
members have already begun to gloat over their victory, pompously assured such
a venture could never have been undertaken successfully. However, as the clock
chimes 8:45pm, Fogg unexpectedly strolls in, followed by Passepartout and the
Princess; her presence startling the members and causing minor pandemonium, as
no woman has ever been allowed inside this exclusively gentlemen’s club.
Viewed today, Around the World in 80 Days is far more
interestingly an anomaly than a movie; its 160-day shoot, one of the longest on
record at that time. In retrospect, it owes more to the Cinerama craze gripping
America in the mid-1950s; not surprising since Mike Todd had been one of the
proponents behind the Cinerama Corporation. Todd’s departure from Cinerama was
predicated on his own distaste for the heavy and obvious seams between the
format’s tri-panel mode of projection; also, the cumbersome 3-camera apparatus
necessary to photograph – at least, by Todd’s logic – virtually impossible for anything
other than travelogues. Getting too close to the Cinerama camera created a
queasy vertical warping of the image. Approaching American Optical’s Brian
O’Brien to develop a Cinerama-esque process by which the entire image came, as
Todd put it, “out of one hole”,
O’Brien helped pioneer and patent Todd A-O; its 120-degree bug-eye lens, almost
rivaling Cinerama’s 140-degree vistas. Better still, O’Brien developed a series
of interchangeable lenses. So, Todd A-O’s wide gauge format could accommodate
virtually all the luxuries a cinematographer was used to; able to create medium
and close-up focal ranges with startling clarity. Only the second movie to be shot in Todd A-O,
Around the World in 80 Days,
benefited immensely from O’Brien’s expertise by design; also, from Todd A-O’s
30-frames-per-second exposure through the camera, virtually eliminating flicker
during projection.
Even in
post-production, Around the World in 80
Days proved a Herculean effort. As there were no facilities anywhere in the
world, except in Hollywood, capable of screening 65mm dailies, the movie’s
original editor, Paul Weatherwax – responsible for the first rough cut assembly
– was often the very first person to see what director, Michael Anderson had
shot on the other side of the globe. When Weatherwax left the production, citing
other commitments, Todd replaced him with Gene Ruggiero from MGM. To keep
production costs down, Todd enlisted various local governments in Thailand,
Bangkok, Spain, France, the U.K., as well as the United States, to offer
whatever assistance was possible. In hindsight, the story is rather obviously
cobbled together from a rich amalgam of backlot fantasy, shot under optimal
conditions, later, grafted onto brief establishing inserts, shot on locations
around the world. As example; Todd’s infamous aerial sequence employed ‘La Coquette’ – a hot-air balloon hired
from the Balloon Club of America. The balloon was carted from Universal’s
backlot to Nevada, then France, and finally, Spain. For close-ups of Fogg and
Passepartout surveying the stunning French countryside effortlessly passing
underneath them, Todd had a replica of the balloon’s basket and the underside
of its bulbous bag erected on a crane, capable of being operated with a painted
blue sky and clouds cyclorama, subbing in for the stratosphere. Todd would also order the construction of
nearly $75,000 worth of miniatures, including the steamship Henrietta, as well
as Acmed’s private yacht.
As Around the World in 80 Days was
reaching completion, Mike Todd found himself in hot water over the ‘potential
Communist influences’ attached to his project; chiefly, two members of the
studio orchestra, Eudice Shapiro and Victor Gottlieb, who had both refused to
name names during HUAC’s recent interrogations. Universal-International had, in
fact, fired the pair to prove a point – albeit, an idiotic one. Todd, however,
had no quam about hiring either to perform their part in Victor Young’s
ebullient and memorable score. Ironically, none of this brouhaha would have
come to pass had Todd not hosted a luncheon for Russian Minster of Culture,
Vladimir Surin; the event covered by an interviewer for The Hollywood
Reporter. Todd had shown some enthusiasm
for shooting a forthcoming project in Russia, but was later ‘encouraged’ by producer, Stephen C.
Apostolof to ‘rethink’ these plans. Consequently, Todd never followed through
to make a movie in the Soviet Union. When Around
the World in 80 Days opened in New York on October 17, 1956, not even
Michael Todd could have imagined the magnitude of success in store. As there
were only a handful of theaters willing to retool for the 70mm premiere
engagement, Todd reluctantly agreed to allow United Artists to make 35mm
Cinemascope reduction prints for a wider general release.
Nevertheless, it
was the road show in New York that drew the most praise and crowds; line ups
forming at five-thirty in the morning and advanced ticket sales for nearly nine
months. Around the World in 80 Days took home a slew of Oscars, including
the coveted Best Picture Award, with other honors bestowed upon the screenplay,
cinematography, editing and musical scoring. The latter was a bittersweet
honor, composer, Victor Young having died mere months before. The following
year, the picture’s production designer, William Cameron Menzies would also
pass away, just as Todd was preparing for a lavish one-year anniversary party
for the movie (still playing in theaters) at Madison Square Gardens. Michael Anderson, who had been overlooked by
the Academy as Best Director, nevertheless won the Outstanding Directorial Achievement
Award from the Screen Directors’ Guild. And Todd found himself accepting the
even more coveted Jules Verne Medallion, bestowed upon him by the Jules Verne
Society International. By any measure of success, Around the World in 80 Days is an impressive achievement. Yet
deprived of its original opening night splendor in magnificent Todd A-O and
jam-packed with a cavalcade of the world’s most accomplished glitterati and
thespian talent yet seen together in a single picture, Around the World in 80 Days is infinitely greater than the sum of
its parts. Todd – a showman, not a film-maker – could take immense pleasure in
realizing he had effectively broken a time-honored tradition in picture-making
to the tune of a mind-numbing $65 million in worldwide box office returns,
playing for two consecutive years uninterrupted at premiere venues across the
country. Alas, his victory would be short lived. On March 22, 1958 – barely
eighteen months after its triumph, Todd was killed in a plane crash in New
Mexico, age 49.
The time has
come for Warner Home Video to make a concerted effort to restore Michael Todd’s
opus magnum, preferably on Blu-ray. What’s here on DVD is adequate, though just
barely, and frequently reveals the painful ravages of improperly stored
elements in a perilous state of disrepair. A goodly amount of the visuals are severely
marred by age-related artifacts. A lot of the process shots and some of the
location inserts look very rough. There are also a few sequences where color is
not only faded by misaligned; disturbing halos, fuzziness, pallid hues and
perhaps a hint of mold damage and vinegar syndrome to boot, with minor edge
enhancement, sporadically scattered throughout. Around the World in 80 Days in 70mm ought to have been stunning.
The DVD, incapable of recapturing its aura of visual splendor, is mediocre at
best. This will not be an easy restoration to undertake. But it really must be
undertaken and soon if this movie is to survive in a condition befitting its
opening night zenith, so that subsequent generations will be able to marvel and
appreciate it for all it’s worth. Warner
has done its utmost to preserve what is currently left to salvage, but without
lifting a finger to meticulously commit to cleaning up with a new image
harvest. There are cringe-worthy moments scattered throughout this presentation;
huge amounts of dirt, scratches, a few tears and the occasional sprocket wobble
to distract. Pity this and other movies like Around the World in 80 Days that will likely fade into obscurity
over the next fifty years simply through neglect, lack of funds and executive shortsightedness. It’s a double-edged argument: restorations
cost money. No kidding! Will that money
be recouped in home video sales and distribution once the dollar amount has
been allocated and spent? Hmmmm. But in this case, I do not have the heart to
look the other way.
Around the World in 80 Days is a cultural
touchstone and a benchmark in American film-making. We can debate the film on
the grounds of its ‘artistic merits.’ However, as an artifact of that bygone
era worthy of study, the movie has few – if any – real peers. On the DVD:
colors can appear quite solid at times throughout this 179-minute presentation.
Mercifully, the movie is spread across two discs and cut appropriately at the
intermission. At times, the visuals can even marginally impress. But Fogg and
Passepartout’s flight over France exhibits a disastrous amount of color fading;
ditto for the bullfighting sequence shot in Spain. These were moments of epic
grandeur. Now, they appear no more captivating than an old faded postcard long
forgotten and/or locked away in the upstairs’ attic or in someone’s damp and
musty basement! For shame! The 5.1 Dolby Digital audio fares considerably
better; remarkably so, in fact, with exceptional clarity and spread, showcasing
Victor Young’s beautiful score. Extras include a Playhouse 90 tribute to the film, vintage and anniversary
documentaries on the making of the film and a very thorough and engaging audio
commentary by the BBC’s Brian Sibley, worth the price of admission alone. As we
are unlikely to see Around the World in
80 Days get the full monty restoration, I am going to recommend this DVD
for posterity only. It’s woefully below par to what we have come to expect from
Warner Home Video, and, I will be among the very first to champion the Warner
Archive to reconsider this movie as a flagship property worthy of their
immediate consideration. Judge and buy accordingly.
FILM RATING (out of 5 - 5 being the best)
3.5
VIDEO/AUDIO
2.5
EXTRAS
3
Comments