This movie is pure spectacle, exactly as conceived and intended. Novice film producer Mike Todd co-developed a new widescreen format with American Optical Co. known as Todd-AO, and the result is a feast for the eyes and ears. He approached his filmmaking through technology, having contributed a few years earlier to the ultra-wide Cinerama, which used a trio of cameras in tandem to capture panoramic images. This proved to be problematic with shifts in color as well as sync issues between the three projectors that were required to exhibit it. Todd found the perfect source material for his new, single-camera solution in Jules Verne’s 1873 adventure novel Around the World in 80 Days, which became the second feature film after Oklahoma! to be released in Todd-AO. Full advantage is taken of this innovation by delivering an epic travelog with as much “wow factor” as possible for 1956.

The movie opens with a diminutive prologue, projected in the standard 35mm ratio. Edward R. Murrow lends his authentic, journalistic tone to the onscreen narration about the life of Jules Verne. It’s accompanied by an edited version of the 1902 masterpiece A Trip to the Moon, directed by pioneer French filmmaker Georges Méliès, which was inspired by Verne’s novel From the Earth to the Moon. After Murrow tells us how Verne was way ahead of his time with his predictions of future scientific achievements, the opening sequence concludes with a modern missile launch. While the rocket rises slowly into a blue sky, the screen widens in height and width until it reaches full, 70mm, projected glory. The audio is a revelation as well. My theatre set-up at home includes a 5.1 Bose system, and while several previous releases for these award-winners have remixed soundtracks to achieve stereo surround, this is the first Best Picture with intended, discrete design. In other words, it’s more than just music and added sound effects that fill the speakers. This time, even the dialogue is directional. So are ambient noises—cheering crowds, ticking clocks, crackling fires, marching bands, etc. If someone walks across the screen from left to right, the audio pans with them. This is a huge leap forward in technology from all prior Best Pictures.

Scientific aspects aside, this movie is loaded with authentic locations, dazzling period costumes, and thousands of extras as Phileas Fogg (David Niven) and his faithful manservant Passepartout (Cantinflas) travel around the world. The plot is simple. While playing cards at the Reform Club in 1872 London, proper Englishman Fogg makes a £20,000 wager against his fellow members that he can circumnavigate the globe in 80 days. That’s about £2,000,000 in today’s money, and it establishes a “ticking clock” for the remainder of the story.

Cantinflas as Passepartout and David Niven as Phileas Fogg.

We are then treated to a string of adventures, mishaps, and triumphs before we find out if he makes it. Mike Todd is often credited with inventing the “cameo” for well-established personalities who agree to appear in minor, bit roles, and there are dozens of them in this film. In fact, the principal cast is small, comparatively. Aside from David Niven and Cantinflas, who was a Mexican film star and the highest paid actor in the world at this point, we have only two other major players: newcomer Shirley MacLaine (in her third movie) as Princess Auoda, complete with politically incorrect East-Indian makeup, and Robert Newton as Inspector Fix, a Scotland Yard policeman who believes Fogg is an escaped bank robber. Aside from that, we have the five primary gentlemen from the Reform Club, who are played by Finlay Currie, Trevor Howard, Robert Morley, Basil Sydney, and Ronald Squire.

Cesar Romero, Gilbert Roland, and David Niven in Spain.

The cameo list, on the other hand, is fairly staggering. These appearances, however brief, offer delightful moments throughout the film. They include Noël Coward, John Gielgud, Harcourt Williams, Fernandel, Charles Boyer, Evelyn Keyes, José Greco, Gilbert Roland, Cesar Romero, Alan Mowbray, Cedric Hardwicke, Melville Cooper, Reginald Denny, Ronald Colman, Charles Coburn, Peter Lorre, Mike Mazurki, Key Luke, George Raft, Red Skelton, Marlene Dietrich, John Carradine, Frank Sinatra, Buster Keaton, Joe E. Brown, Andy Devine, Edmond Lowe, Victor McLaglen, Jack Oakie, Beatrice Lillie, John Mills, Glynis Johns, and Hermione Gingold. I have often joked over the years that the reason this film won Best Picture is because its cast included the entire voting membership of the Motion Picture Academy.

Shirley MacLaine and David Niven.

As advanced as it was and is, as far as technology goes, I find this film disappointingly dated in other respects. I can’t avoid the unintentional yet obvious racism and racist perspective of a White man exploring the world in 1872, as seen through the eyes of 1950s Hollywood. “I was miscast,” says Shirley MacLaine, regarding her participation, but her leading role as an Indian princess isn’t where the casting snafus end. Peter Lorre turns up in a cameo as an Asian crewman aboard a steamship, for one. Cesar Romero and Gilbert Roland appear as Arabs, and even the music score by Victor Young, which is wonderful overall, provides a racial joke or two along the way. For example, when Passepartout is pursued by Native Americans on horseback, “La Cucaracha” is heard in the orchestra. It’s unnecessary and jarring, existing only for a cheap laugh.

Other times, the plot grinds to a halt to give audiences a little of the local flavor. It happens twice early in the film. When our tiny crew visits Spain, we are treated to an extended Flamencan dance, featuring the legendary José Greco. Impressive? Absolutely, but it goes on forever, nearly derailing the whole film. Moments later, this concert is followed by a (thankfully bloodless) bullfight, constructed to showcase Cantinflas’s skills as a physical comedian and matador. No doubt these segments were enthralling in their day, back when international sights and sounds weren’t as accessible to audiences even with television sets at home—and certainly not in widescreen, color, or stereophonic sound, regardless. Around the World in 80 Days is equal parts travelog and plot, often with as much cultural authenticity as the “It’s a Small World” ride at Disneyland. Still, it’s fun to experience the tourist-attraction sequences as long as they don’t kill the momentum.

Overall, I like this film, barring the aforementioned transgressions. It’s pure escapism on an epic scale, with reality seldom in sight. Mike Todd succeeded in what he set out to do, by creating a thrilling and delightful entertainment. The Academy supported that opinion by honoring his effort as the Best Picture of 1956.

Around the World in 80 Days