‘80 Days’--The Second Time Around

Jules Verne’s Phileas Fogg is a man for whom order, routine and precision are almost a religion, a man who can be counted on to “do tomorrow precisely what he’s done today.”

It could be argued that a man of such rigidity in 1872 would hardly do anything as daring as staking his fortune on circling the globe in 80 days, and surely not on impulse.

Despite its soft foundation, however, Verne’s “Around the World in 80 Days” is a grandly entertaining yarn that Mike Todd turned into a memorable, Oscar-winning film with David Niven and Cantinflas in 1956.

And now comes “Around the World in 80 Days” the NBC-TV miniseries, at 9 p.m. Sunday through Tuesday on Channels 4, 36 and 39, with Pierce Brosnan as Fogg and Eric Idle as Fogg’s loyal French servant, Passepartout.

Some of it is quite good, most of it quite bad--notably when John Gay’s script is seized by extreme fancy in having Fogg almost get his head blown off by Jesse James. Yes, that Jesse James.

After betting his wist-playing companions at London’s Reform Club that he can circle the globe in 80 days, Fogg and Passepartout set out on their marathon journey, unaware that Fogg has been identified as the “gentleman” who recently robbed the Bank of England. With seemingly all of England charting their progress, they travel by train, by balloon, by steamer, by elephant, by rowboat, by rickshaw and by foot, all the while trailed by a bumbling detective named Fix (Peter Ustinov), who has been assigned to capture Fogg.

Part 1 gives “Around the World in 80 Days” a flat, plodding start, with the travelers getting airborne--in a majestic hot-air balloon that carries them from France to Italy--much faster than the story does. And director Buzz Kulik’s attempts at humor plummet faster than Fogg and Passepartout do when they run out of fuel over the Alps.

Set in the Far East, Part 2 is a golden, atmospheric, splendidly photographed travelogue that’s rich in pomp and spectacle and gets by on looks alone. Although diminished by the small screen, it’s still magnificent.

The scene shifts to the United States in Part 3, most of which is so profoundly stupid that by the time it concludes, you feel like you’ve been watching for 80 days.

Like the movie, the miniseries includes numerous star cameos, some of which--like Lee Remick as Sarah Bernhardt--are awkward and intrusive, though essentially benign.

What you miss most from Todd’s earlier version are the classic Victor Young score and the clowning Cantinflas as Passepartout. In some ways, however, the miniseries is at least a match for the movie.

Brosnan is a fit Fogg, suitably unperturbed and unruffled, facing peril after peril, yet ingeniously turning every adversity into an advantage while racing to beat the deadline for returning to London. As a bonus, he looks swell in a silk hat.

Moreover, Julia Nickson is more credible than Shirley MacLaine as Aouda, the ravishing Indian princess whom Fogg and Passepartout rescue en route to Calcutta. Nickson’s performance is especially crucial given the heavier emphasis on romance between Fogg and Aouda in this flabby version. And finally, there are those spectacular locales--in Britain, Macao, Hong Kong, Thailand and Yugoslavia--that Kulik exploits very well.

Yet Idle is often more Inspector Clouseau than Passepartout (Peter Sellers’ accent wasn’t any funnier), and as Fix, Ustinov is tiresomely mannered and overdoes grunting like Mr. Magoo.

Even more bothersome are parts of the script.

As a story, Verne’s Foggian tale is trivial and not meant to be taken seriously. The characters are so unbelievable and inconsistent, and some elements of the plot so ludicrous, that the author may have been 20,000 leagues under the sea when he dreamed all of this up. His saving grace here is his humor.

As a vehicle for pure adventure that fires the imagination, however, Fogg’s global journey is not only a delight, but also something that can be changed to taste by altering or dropping plot parts, or by inserting new ones. Retaining the adventure framework of the round-the-world tour is what counts.

Some of Gay’s additions seem preposterous, however, especially his changing of a Verne character to Jesse James, who somehow turns up with his brother, Frank, at a San Francisco dress ball and gets into a fight with Fogg over Aouda. Their clash later carries over to a moving train where they have a near-duel, after which Jesse makes an apparently suicidal jump off the train into attacking Sioux, only to somehow escape. Well, he was tough.

Also notable is a piece of contemporary dialogue put in the mouth of Aouda. Freshly arrived in the United States, she shows amazing perception by angrily criticizing the abuse of American Indians by white Americans--surely a hot topic in her native India circa 1872.

The plot fogs.