Traveling allows us to plunge ourselves into the lives of people with whom we don’t interact on a regular basis, people who don’t necessarily act like us or believe as we do. But in Around the World in 80 Days (1956), Phileas Fogg, wealthy and mysterious, undertakes his epic journey not to observe new cultures or gain an appreciation of our lovely planet, but to win a bet. His reasons for travel are pecuniary—as well as self-centered. His pride has been challenged when his acquaintances at the Reform Club expressed doubt as to his achieving his claim that he could circle the world in 80 days. Passepartout, Fogg’s valet, also possesses monetary reasons for accompanying Fogg on his trip. As a new hire, Passepartout feels the need to prove himself to his new master. But even more than cementing his employment status with Fogg, Passepartout’s major goal on the trip is to ogle different cultures’ beautiful women. What a pair.

Fogg and Co. awaiting their next mode of transportation somewhere in the American West.

Of course, in light of the film’s title, it is obvious that the film has much to do with time. While 80 days is the goal, a constant thought in the back of all the characters’ minds, time plays a larger role than just Fogg’s deadline. As the film’s music constantly reminds its viewers (via variations on the well-known “Rule, Britannia”), Fogg is first and foremost a British man. Everything he does from traveling to eating to recreation is done in thoroughly British fashion, which means he is deliberate, scheduled, precise, serious, and composed. Princess Aouda, whom Fogg and Passepartout rescue from committing forced sati (because she is British-educated), confronts Fogg with his inflexibility: “Mr. Fogg, why must you be so…so British?” Fogg himself hilariously confirms his characterization with his feelings toward his beloved tea time: “Crisis or no, nothing should interfere with tea!” But this “Britishness” is perhaps most evident in Fogg’s obsession with time. Yes, his entire fortune is dependent on his winning the bet he made with the men in the Reform Club, but Fogg’s love of his ticking timepiece precedes his wager. Before Passepartout accepts his job with Fogg, he is warned by the employment office of Fogg’s demanding schedule—how his entire life is meticulously arranged down to each minute. This severe life organization continues on their journey around the world and is constantly reinforced by the numerous clocks and time-telling devices that appear in the film. One particularly gorgeous way the movie emphasizes this preoccupation with time is with repeated sunsets. These scenes were probably my favorite in the whole film. In all their widescreen glory (thanks to producer Michael Todd’s new filming technology), these golden and fiery salutes to the end of the day represent both the approaching 80-day deadline as well as the priority Fogg gives to time.

The irony of Fogg both needing to keep track of time and overly fixating on it culminates (spoiler alert!) in his miscalculation of what day it is when he returns to England. Having spent the entire trip (and apparently his whole life) counting minutes and hours, Fogg has somehow lost an entire day. How can this be? Well, somewhere on the trip through strangers reprimanding him about not missing out on his life, and from his developing feelings of love for Aouda and friendship for Passepartout, Fogg has come to value more than just the passing of time and ensuring that scheduled items take place at the right time. As the saloon hostess tells Fogg, “Never be in a hurry. You’ll miss the best parts in life.” Perhaps Fogg has realized the truth of this. We learn in his conversation with Aouda at the end of the film that Fogg has no family and no real friends. Time is his thing because he has nothing else that lends meaning to his life—until Aouda and Passepartout. Although the film ends hilariously (though a bit oddly) and full of hope that Fogg has learned to control his “British” tendency toward inflexibility, we still feel a bit cheated that the journey around the globe could have been even more than the adventure it was.

Aouda’s love transforms Fogg from a stickler for promptness to one who values each minute, we hope.

For Me Then…

Upon Fogg’s rush to catch a train, a stationmaster resignedly states, “I’ll be darned if I understand you city folks. Always rushing, rushing, rushing. Always thinking about the future. No wonder you have stomach trouble.” The future—another time-based concept—is a big component of Jules Verne’s classic novel. Celebrating the achievements of the present with a premonition that the future would hold even greater technological possibilities, the opening introduction of the film version of Verne’s story emphasizes how what was once impossible has become possible and how what we think is undoable now will be “old hat” in the future. We are not to limit ourselves to what we think can be done or to what has been done already. Furthermore, the movie emphasizes that each of us has a limited time and should make the most of what time we’ve been given—not to obsess over that time, but to use it (for good). We should get creative, make something of ourselves that allows us to be innovative and challenge the status quo. We should be willing to learn something about our fellow man—especially those who are different from ourselves—and immerse ourselves in the unfamiliar. Fogg’s 80-day journey was a technological success but a personal failure in that he missed out on the opportunity to develop himself more as a human being. Though he remedies this at the end of the film upon his return home, the trip is over and has not been fully utilized for what it could have been–an opportunity to learn about oneself through learning about others, a chance to use time instead of focus on it.