The Screengrab : charles coburn

Yesterday's Hits: Around the World in 80 Days (1956, Michael Anderson)

Paul Clark — Tue, 29 Jul 2008 19:00:00 GMT

If there’s one thing Hollywood is sorely lacking nowadays, it’s larger-than-life figures. Nowadays, most moviegoers want their industry types to be down to earth, but in the classical era of Hollywood, it was a different story. Tinseltown was ruled by grandiose, even vulgar men who flaunted their wealth, made bold statements and engaged in dangerous behavior just to fuel their taste for adventure. Today’s peekaboo paparazzi photos and pregnancy gossip pale in comparison to the stories of Errol Flynn’s legendary parties and John Huston deciding to make a movie in Africa with the notion of shooting an elephant while he was there.

Michael Todd was one of these men. Todd began his career in Hollywood by running a construction company that specialized in soundproofing studio stages, but after he was bankrupted by the Depression, his colorful life really began. He began producing stage shows, often of ill repute. He romanced Gypsy Rose Lee, star of one of his productions. He married Joan Blondell, after his first wife died under suspicious circumstances. He gambled and spent money like a decadent prince, causing Blondell to divorce him and leading to his second bankruptcy. He staged a nudie musical written by the future king of Thailand. And if that’s not enough drama for one lifetime, he later married Liz Taylor. Todd also had a hand in the development of the three-screen Cinerama process before pioneering a technological breakthrough of his own, the Todd-AO process, which Todd envisioned as being “Cinerama coming from one hole.” And the crown jewel of Todd-AO was 1956’s Around the World in 80 Days.

What made Around the World in 80 Days a hit?: In addition to its wide screen and greater clarity (Todd-AO cameras shot at 30 frames per second instead of the usual 24), Todd-AO also employed the widest-angle lens of the era, approximately 150 degrees. These factors made the format ideal for filming grand epics and panoramic vistas. The first Todd-AO release was 1955’s Oklahoma!, but the maximum potential of the format was realized the following year with Around the World in 80 Days. A long in-development project that had yet to come to fruition, Todd used his newly-regained resources- much of which had been earned by his stake in 1952’s This Is Cinerama- to film his adaptation of Jules Verne’s novel on location all around the world, showing off what Todd-AO was truly capable of doing.

For such an ambitious production, it was only fitting that Todd would fill it to the brim with international stars, all the better to draw in moviegoing audiences worldwide. After pairing up-and-coming Hollywood leading man David Niven with popular Mexican entertainer Cantinflas (as Phileas Fogg and Passepartout, respectively), Todd then surrounded them with a galaxy of stars in cameo roles. It seemed like wherever the travelers went, another handful of familiar faces would drop in to greet them, with bit roles for the likes of Noel Coward, John Gielgud, Trevor Howard, Charles Boyer, Ronald Colman, Charles Coburn, Peter Lorre, George Raft, Marlene Dietrich, Frank Sinatra, Buster Keaton, and Edward R. Murrow as the narrator of the film’s introduction. The combination of globetrotting adventure and big stars worked like gangbusters, with the Around the World in 80 Days pulling in $23.1 million dollars- the second-highest gross of 1956 behind The Ten Commandments- and taking home five Oscars including Best Picture.

What happened?: Jules Verne’s novel, written in 1872, was meant to inspire a sense of wonder in its readers. But as is often the case with gee-whiz science fiction, much of the wonder evaporated once the fantasy became reality. By 1956, humanity had long since “conquered the air,” and the notion of circumnavigating the globe in four score days didn’t hold too much magic. So while Around the World in 80 Days offered audiences the irresistible combination of big stars and widescreen vistas, the story was little more than an excuse for a series of misadventures involving Phileas and/or Passepartout rather than the wondrous futuristic spectacle Verne had intended.

In addition, while Michael Anderson was credited as the director, this was without a doubt Mike Todd’s film, something that was discovered early on by the film’s original director, John Farrow. But Todd wouldn’t be around much longer to enjoy his success. In 1958, while flying his unfortunately-monikered plane “The Lucky Liz,” Todd suffered a fatal crash. This negated the possibility of any more ambitious Todd-produced epics, as well as beginning the slow decline of the Todd-AO process, which continued in a more conventional 24fps format through the sixties before dying out altogether.

Does Around the World in 80 Days still work?: Not really. If the film was charming in 1956, it’s merely quaint today. For one thing, the much-ballyhooed international shoot comes across mostly as hype nowadays. To modern audiences’ more sophisticated eyes, the seams in the production really show, as when the film cuts from a sweeping foreign vista to a shot of the stars gazing at it in wonder. Much of the action that actually involves the actors looks like it was filmed on soundstages. This isn’t categorically a problem, but when a movie’s primary selling point is that it was filmed on locations around the world, it feels like something of a cheat when the international shots appear to be second-unit work.

In addition, the principal actors in the film are consistently underwhelming. Watching his work as Phileas Fogg, it’s clear why David Niven never became a superstar- not only does he lack the necessary star presence, but his screen persona isn’t very interesting. Phileas Fogg is clearly meant to be an upper-class eccentric- independently wealthy, time-obsessed yet impulsive. Yet with Niven in the role, we have to take the movie’s word for it as regards his eccentricity, since all he brings to the table is a vague air of urbane sophistication. Perhaps a leading man who was more adept at comedy- Cary Grant, perhaps, or Alec Guinness- could have made the role enjoyable, but with Niven it just sort of sits there.

Similarly, despite his celebrity status south of the border, Cantinflas wasn’t cut out for stardom stateside. He looks fairly uncomfortable acting in English, and his physical schtick isn’t very funny, although Anderson and Todd’s insistence on extreme long shots doesn’t help any. Shirley MacLaine, in one of her first films, is sorely miscast as the Indian maiden Aouda, in keeping with classic Hollywood’s highly uncool tradition of “browning-up” white actors for ethnic parts. And while Around the World in 80 Days popularized the practice of “cameo” roles, they’re almost always distracting. Is that brief flash of recognition that comes over audience members when the piano player turns out to be Frank Sinatra really worth the tedious setup? I would argue that it’s not.

In the end, Around the World in 80 Days hardly seems to warrant the “epic” label that many ascribe to it. Far from justifying the largesse of the production, the film feels like an amusing trifle with some picturesque scenes interspersed in order to make the film feel like an event. With comedy that isn’t especially funny and lead actors who get outshone by both the scenery and the stars in the bit roles, Around the World in 80 Days amounts to little more than a widescreen travelogue- diverting in spots with some pleasant company, but not very interesting cinematically, and not really worth revisiting.

Our 11 Favorite Romantic Moments in the Movies, Part 2

Phil Nugent — Fri, 15 Feb 2008 15:00:00 GMT

JACKIE BROWN (1997)

Max Cherry (Robert Forster) knows damn well he's not going to get the girl. He's not one of those idiots you meet in film noirs who feel some flicker of lust and start thinking that they can pull off some big score and get away and have it all; Max knows that whatever happens, he's going to end up back where he started, riding the deak at his bail bonds office, but in the meantime, he's prepared to do whatever he can to help Jackie (Pam Grier), because he figures he owes it to her, just for the way she made him feel the first time he laid eyes on her. He knows that she's out of his league, and he's okay with that; knowing that he could still feel that way is more than he expected to get out of one more trip to the jailhouse. What's amazing is that none of the other characters seem to see what Max sees when they look at Jackie: to them, she's just a middle-aged black woman, someone to be used and screwed over and forgotten. That's why they deserve the worst that can happen to them, and why Max deserves more than it would ever occur to him to ask for.

THE MORE THE MERRIER (1943)

Supernaturally avuncular matchmaker Benjamin Dingle (Charles Coburn, naturally) finally sees his plans come to fruition in this classic scene from George Stevens' comedy, More the Merrier. By trapping her dreary fiancé, Charles J. Pendergast, in a pointlessly prolonged meeting, genially uptight Constance Milligan (Jean Arthur) is forced to rely upon her inadvertent roommate and true love, hunky propeller designer Joe Stevens (Joel McCrea), to escort her back to her apartment on a warm summer night. As they make their way down the dark street, feeling the steam rising from other couples canoodling in the shadows, their conversation is all banal pleasantries on the surface, but McCrae's hands are in constant motion, laying Arthur's tiny jacket over her bare shoulders, kneading her hand in his (watch how gently he holds onto one of her fingers before letting her hand drop), guiding her forward with his hand pressed against the small of her back. Finally he dips her gently onto her front steps, draws her in close, kisses her hand, and, as she prattles on helplessly about the evaporating qualities of her former chosen one, he closes in for a deep, fatal neck nuzzle. She lifts her head, begins to stammer and is lost.

THEREMIN: AN ELECTRONIC ODYSSEY (1993)

This documentary tells the story of the Russian interventer Leon Theremin and his creation, in 1919, of the electronic musical instrument that bears his name. Although the theremin is best known in popular culture as the maker of spooky sounds in sci-fi movies (The Thing from Another World, The Day the Earth Stood Still) and freaky ones in pop songs such as the Beach Boys' "Good Vibrations", Theremin intended it to revolutionize classical music, and he worked closely with Clara Rockmore (seen here playing "Romance"), the acknowledged supreme master of the instrument, to tinker and perfect his device according to her suggestions and specifications. In 1938, Theremin was scooped up by the KGB and disappeared from the public eye. For most of the movie, the viewer who doesn't know better is likely to assume that he was dead. But it turns out that Theremin was alive and kept busy by the Soviet government until the end of the Cold War — working, he says, on "different kinds of bad things" — and the filmmakers brought him to the States and arranged a reunion between the maestro and his favorite pupil, when both of them were in their nineties. For a minute, they just stand framed in the doorway, smiling at each other. Then Rockmore ushers him inside, and as she prepares to shut the door, she says to the camera crew, "You go now." Yes ma'am!

LAW OF DESIRE (1987)

In this ripe specimen of early Pedro Almodovar, twenty-six-year-old Antonio Banderas plays a fellow called, for convenience's sake, Antonio, who is attracted to the film and stage director Pablo (Eusebio Poncela), but isn't sure that he can have sex with another man. Pablo offers to take him home so they can figure it out together. Things go swimmingly, but the next morning, Antonio is totally, obsessively in love, but Pablo considers him a one-night stand. So, to get Pablo's attention, Antonio tracks down the guy that Pablo is in love with, throws him off a cliff, then finds Pablo's sister Tina, who used to be Pablo's brother, and Tina's niece (who was actually fathered, or mothered, or something, by her transexual ex-lover) and takes them hostage, yelling to the police who are soon surrounding the house that he'll give himself up if Pablo will consent to one more hour between the sheets. Pablo does consent, and after their hour together is up, Antonio, have known the touch of his love object once more, can walk into the police bullets feeling that his life has been fulfilled. In real life, this would be an unhappy situation for everybody involved and would require the combined services of Dr. Phil and S.W.A.T. In a movie, it is the Technicolor apotheosis of everyone's fantasy of doing whatever the hell it takes to convince the reluctant prospective partner that the two of you have to be together, and ultimately succeeding. In Almodovar's world, it probably counts as a slow news day.

BEFORE SUNSET (2004)

It's a safe bet that few people who watched backpacking Gen X-ers Jesse (Ethan Hawke) and Celine (Julie Delpy) spend a memorable night together in Vienna in 1995's Before Sunrise ever expected to see a sequel, much less wait nine years for one. When that follow-up finally did arrive in 2004, it could hardly have been confused with a traditional movie romance. As befitting a Richard Linklater film, their belated reunion in Paris is all talk — talk about missed connections, the impermanence of youth and the mysteries of love. Jesse has a flight to catch, so we're always aware of the ticking clock — that is, until the sublime final moments, when the urgency melts away to the appropriate tones of Nina Simone singing "Just in Time." Delpy does a shuffling little dance. Hawke sinks into the couch with a silly grin on his face. And we all learn that the most romantic words of all are not "I love you" — they're "Baby, you are gonna miss that plane."

— Phil Nugent, Robert Gomez, Scott Von Doviak

Click here for Part 1.