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[steam engine chugging]

We will be arriving at the Suez Canal

inside the hour, sir.

Ah, how completely splendid.

- Thank you. - You're welcome.

Mere months ago,

we would have had endured the South Atlantic

- and southern Indian oceans. - I know, I wrote the article.

Today we simply sail down the Suez Canal

and meet our ship at Aden,

straight across the Indian Ocean to Bombay.

Astonishing, really.

I know, I wrote the article.

Yes.

Yes, you did.

An adventurer and his chronicler.

- A team. - A team, yes.

Merde.

I have a very, very good feeling about this.

The sun on our backs, technology on our side,

India waiting for us.

What do you think, Passepartout? We going to make it?

Good man.

Nothing can stop us now.

♪♪♪♪♪

Pirates?

Pirates in the 19th century?

These are not men with wooden legs

and pigeons on their shoulders.

Parrots, Passepartout.

I talked to the first mate.

Banu Marwan marauders have been targeting shipping

and kidnapping the wealthier passengers.

- Kidnapping? - Quite grisly, actually.

They cut off a new finger every day

until the ransom is paid.

What if it isn't paid?

The company have ordered the captain

to rest up here for a few days

until a British ship of war arrives to escort us to Aden.

We'll miss our connection to Bombay.

I know.

We'll have to make alternative arrangements.

What sort of alternative arrangements?

I don't know. We've only just got here.

I wonder if they'd get The Daily Telegraph

in a place like this?

[theme music plays]

Here it is! It's in!

"Fogg Saves President of France,

from our own correspondent, Miss Abigail Fix."

My first credited article.

My father actually put my name on it.

"Phileas Fogg, with scant regard for his own safety,

"threw himself between the president of France

and his would-be assassin."

Did I?

They appear to have missed out my role in the story.

The thing you need to know about my father

is he won't simply humor me.

If he thought the article wasn't good enough,

he just wouldn't print it.

"Could Phileas Fogg be the next great British explorer

"following in the footsteps

of Livingstone, Speke and Burton?"

Non.

We must get to Aden.

[Fogg] We will get to Aden.

This calls for a celebration.

A large cold beer, please.

Beer? Beer.

Beer, if you please.

I don't think saying it louder is going to help.

We're in Al Hudaydah, the Ottoman Empire.

There's no alcohol.

We'll have coffee, thank you.

Let's find out when the next boat to Aden sails.

Oh...my...giddy...

aunt.

Do not look now, but there's a woman over there

haggling over a camel

and I think it's Jane Digby.

[speaking Arabic]

Good Lord, I do believe you' re right.

Who is she?

Only the most immoral

and despised Englishwoman in the world.

What has she done wrong?

Where do I begin?

She's been married to Lord Ellenborough,

the Governor General of India.

She left him and had open affairs

with Prince Felix of Schwarzenberg

and Ludwig I of Bavaria.

Yeah, but what has she done wrong?

Abandoned her children!

Don't gossip, Miss Fix. It's unbecoming.

She married another baron in Munich,

then had an affair with King Otto of Greece...

- Let's see... - ...followed by a shameless fling

with a hero of the Greek revolution,

General Christodoulos Hatzipetros.

She must be exhausted.

Finally--and this is the really scandalous bit--

she ran off and married an Arab camel driver.

That must be him.

Quite handsome, I suppose, as camel drivers go.

It's ridiculous! The next boat for Aden

doesn't sail for three days!

My father knew her a little bit.

Said her morals were even lower than her intelligence.

Maybe I should introduce myself.

[Fogg] You will do no such thin.

We may be far from home

but we are not without standards.

Speak for yourself, Monsieur.

She's coming this way. Ignore her.

Good luck.

This isn't France.

You're going to need it.

[indistinct chatter in Arabic]

♪♪♪♪♪

Try not to tuck it in too tightly at the bottom.

I hate having my toes bent back by a rigid sheet.

[sighs]

[knocking at door]

Salaam Alaikum.

Forgive me.

I hear you speaking.

It is important you go to Aden?

Yes, terribly important.

There is a way-- cross the Empty Quarter.

For a small cost, I take you.

Through the desert?

Uh, why is it called the Empty Quarter?

Because it is empty.

Why is it empty?

Because everyone who goes there dies.

It is a most generous offer. Malheureusement--

I will be with you, sirs.

There is no need to be afraid.

Wait, Passepartout. Just--

How long will it take?

Two days.

Two days would put us back on schedule.

Non, Monsieur.

You cannot even consider this.

And how much is a "small cost"?

Ten British pounds.

Ten...

Please, Monsieur.

When we get to Aden...

I will pay you the money.

- Half now for supplies. - No, no, no.

Half now and we never see you again.

I know how you chaps do business. [snorts]

As you wish, effendi.

So, when do we leave?

One hour before dawn.

Very good.

Very good.

We know nothing about the desert.

We know nothing about this man.

This way, we're back on track for India.

[sighs]

I thought you promised your friend

that you would look after his daughter.

The Empty Quarter, really?

"Everyone who goes there dies."

Yes.

You're absolutely right. What was I thinking?

That is no place for a woman.

I'll go after him,

tell him we no longer need his .

No.

Miss Fix must remain here.

What do you mean?

Fortescue would never forgive me

if I knowingly endangered her life.

Monsieur, I didn't mean that she had to stay here.

No, no, no, no more.

Nothing else to say on the subject.

If she goes home to her father without this story--

Leaders must make difficult decisions.

I have made mine.

She will be devastated.

Get some sleep while you can.

♪♪♪♪♪

[door creaks]

[door closes]

[knocking at door]

Entrez.

[Passepartout] Oh, excuse me, Miss Fix.

Please, come in.

I know you think I'm silly, going on about this article,

but let me explain.

You don't have to explain anything to me.

When my mother died,

my father brought me up on his own.

Sometimes it was sad, just being the two of us,

both of us missing my mother.

But at other times...

we'd sit around this enormous map of the world

and he'd point out the places he'd been to,

the wars he'd reported on and lived through.

Sometimes, of course, he had to go away and work,

but he always hurried back to me,

always had a new story to tell.

I want to repay him

by telling this story.

I'm French.

That's how we say "goodnight" in France.

Bonne nuit, Mademoiselle.

Bonne nuit, Passepartout.

♪♪♪♪♪

- I say. - [camel grunts]

♪♪♪♪♪

[whispers] I have no choice.

It's too dangerous for her.

[camel grunts]

[chatter, bells ringing]

[voices calling, bells ringing]

[inhales]

Mr. Fogg?

[panting]

♪♪♪♪♪

♪♪♪♪♪

♪♪♪♪♪

Should we be careful with our water?

Is oasis ahead.

My people camp there. Plenty water.

[Abigail] Listen to me.

Please, listen!

I need a guide!

Please...

I need a guide.

Aden!

Aden, I need someone to take me to Aden.

I can pay.

[speaking in Arabic]

[excited chatter in Arabic]

[Medjuel in Arabic]

Are you hurt?

Where are your friends?

There's been a terrible mistake.

They've left me behind in error

and I need to find them.

They left you behind in error?

I'm trying to get one of these men

to take me to Aden so I can meet up with them.

These men?

Didn't your mother teach you never to talk to strange men?

Didn't yours?

Please!

Lady Ellenborough...

Will you help me get to Aden?

I have money.

[coins clink]

[children chatter excitedly]

Go home.

No!

Never!

[speaking Arabic]

[speaking Arabic]

I saw that.

[speaking Arabic]

[speaking Arabic]

- [camel grunts] - Oh.

Call of nature, I'm afraid.

Can't be ignored.

Moi aussi.

How absolutely fascinating.

Huh.

That's called petroleum,

from the Latin petra, meaning "rock".

Sometimes it seeps up to the surface.

- What are you doing? - The same as you, I imagine.

Move along a bit.

Why?

Because...

because I can't go if there's another chap in the vicinity.

I thought you went to boarding school.

Please.

[sighs]

Bit more.

Oh, too late, Monsieur.

Ahhh!

[urinating]

[Passepartout groans]

Close your eyes

and think of the river Thames.

Millions and millions of gallons of water,

swirling and flooding

and surging towards the sea

as heavy rain falls

from the grey London sky--

[Passepartout shouts] Monsieur Fogg!

Well, I definitely can't go if you insist on talking to me.

If you're going to be a gentleman's gentleman,

you need to understand the peccadilloes of said--

♪♪♪♪♪

Oh, no. No!

♪♪♪♪♪

Merde.

No! My jacket!

My watch.

He's stolen my father's watch.

Well, at least he didn't get our money.

What shop shall we go to first?

♪♪♪♪♪

- [man] Mr. Bellamy. - Mm-hmm?

We were just tidying up the gentlemen's bar bills

and we... we noticed that your own bill

has not been paid since the summer.

[chuckles] The summer?

What nonsense.

Apparently so, sir.

Uh, seems I've left my wallet at home, Robert,

so I'll sort you out in the morning.

The thing is, sir, I do believe you said that the last time--

What are you implying, man?

He's only doing his job, old chap.

No need for a scene.

Let me take care of it.

Oh, no, I couldn't possibly.

I'll reimburse you tomorrow.

Of course. Don't mention it.

[Passepartout] Why are you doing all this?

Risking your life for a stupid wager?

How much money can one man want?

[Fogg] It's not about money.

Pride?

Who cares what those men think about you?

This is neither the time nor the place for this discussion.

♪♪♪♪♪

[Fogg breathes heavily]

Where are we going?

To the oasis.

How do you know there is an oasis?

The man said there was.

The crazy man who left us out here to die?

Do you have a better idea?

Yes.

We go back.

We'll never make it back without water.

This is our only chance.

Well, risk your life.

Be my guest

but stop risking mine.

You must have faith, Passepartout.

I will get us through this.

♪♪♪♪♪

What do you miss about England, Lady Ellenborough?

Nothing.

Don't call me Lady Ellenborough.

What would you like me to call you?

You must miss something.

The cavalry jingling down Horse Guards Parade.

Snow falling on Hampstead Heath?

Children skating on Hyde Park?

You have children in London, I believe.

Do you get to see much of them?

It must be difficult--

I'm sorry! I was only asking!

- [blast] - [screams]

[horse neighs]

[camel grunts]

Thank you.

It's a good camel.

[Medjuel] Track of three camels

going back to Al Hudaydah.

They've turned around.

Perhaps your friends aren't quite so stupid after all.

[Medjuel] Only one of the camels is carrying a man.

The other tracks are lighter.

What are you saying?

Three people went out.

Only one is returning.

We go back now.

In this heat, without transportation,

they're as good as dead.

♪♪♪♪♪

♪♪♪♪♪

[blows]

[Passepartout whispering in French]

♪♪♪♪♪

I never thought I'd say this, but I rather miss Miss Fix.

I absolutely did the right thing.

This is no place for a woman.

It's not a lot of fun for a man.

She did have a certain...

joie de vivre.

Certainly one of life's enthusiasts.

Very pleasant laugh.

Courage.

Indeed. Intelligence.

Determination.

Resilience.

Pretty.

Steady on.

At least she's safe...

sailing home to London and her father's embrace,

where she should be.

♪♪♪♪♪

[Medjuel and Jane chat, laugh indistinctly]

[Jane chuckling]

♪♪♪♪♪

[groans]

Monsieur, get up.

I said, get up.

Just... a little rest.

If you stop here, you will die.

[breathing heavily]

You are a hero.

Remember?

That's just words.

Miss Fix's stupid words.

I said...[groans]

get up, man!

I'm sorry, Passepartout...

for all of this.

Whatever happens, I want you to know

you're the best valet I've ever had.

Really?

You know, I'm not actually a valet.

You're not?

What are you, then?

Anything you want me to be.

[groans]

Look.

What's that?

A man?

[whispers] A man!

A man.

Lots of men.

They're coming towards us.

[Fogg shouts] Over here!

Hey!

Over here!

[both laugh hysterically]

Over here!

We're saved, Passepartout!

[laughing]

We're saved! We're saved...

That's not people.

What? Of course it is.

Our brains wanted it to be people.

What the hell is it, then?

That--

That's a sandstorm.

♪♪♪♪♪

[gasping and groaning]

Use this...

to breathe.

Here, hold my hand.

We must try and stay together.

♪♪♪♪♪

[sand thundering]

♪♪♪♪♪

[both shouting indistinctly]

[Fogg shouts] Passepartout!

[screams]

♪♪♪♪♪

♪♪♪♪♪

♪♪♪♪♪

[horse neighs]

[Fogg breathing heavily]

[horse trotting]

[whispers] Passepartout.

Passepartout.

Passepartout!

[laughs]

[laughing] You made it!

I'm so pleased.

Well done.

Oh. Mm!

- Drink it slowly, Monsieur. - [gasps]

Wait, wait, wait.

- Slowly. - [gulps]

Better...

than champagne.

[gasps and gulps]

Oh!

You, sir...

are a gracious...

and noble hero.

A man amongst men.

And you, sir, are an imbecile.

[Passepartout laughs]

You saved my life?

I would have left you there.

She saved your life.

Hello, Mr. Fogg.

Oh...

Miss Fix...

Bernard, your shot.

Telegram for you, Mr. Fortescue.

Oh, thank you.

It's from Abigail.

They've left Al Hudaydah

and are heading across the desert

to Aden!

What is that fool Fogg doing,

taking Abigail into the desert?

What is it?

She has a traveling companion.

Jane Digby.

The Bedouin bed-hopper.

Surprised she has the audacity to leave the tent

after the way that you exposed her to the world.

[Abigail ]To leave me behind

like I was a piece of unwanted luggage.

[Fogg] What else was I to do?

I gave your father my word I'd look after you.

Reckless, Miss Fix. You're reckless.

And you, Mr. Fogg, are pathetic and only alive

because I persuaded these people to look for you.

Think about that!

[Passepartout] Enough with the shouting.

Yesterday you were telling each other

what a fine team we are.

Don't think I've forgotten about you, Monsieur

that's-how-we-say-goodnight in-France Passepartout!

Sneaking off in the middle of the night

with not so much as a goodbye

is not looking after me, it is humiliating me!

Look at us! We nearly died!

Because you trusted a complete crook.

If you had had the courtesy

and sense to discuss--

As Passepartout pointed out,

this is no place for a woman.

Well, thank you very much.

When we get to Aden, I'm sending you home

whether you like it or not.

You most certainly are not.

Nobody is going to Aden.

When the sun goes down,

we will take you back to Al Hudaydah.

Oh, no, no, no. No.

- I have a boat I have to catch. - So do I.

Yes, I've looked at it on the map.

It's just a little piece of desert to cross.

That "little piece of desert"

is inhabited by the Subayhi tribe.

Even if we took you, you'd never make it

and we're not taking you.

My father will pay you handsomely

if you take me to Aden.

You can leave Mr. Fogg to the vultures, for all I care.

How dare you! There is no trip without me.

Nonsense.

I will take up the 80-day challenge

on behalf of my readers.

I'm beginning to think you're quite mad.

Who do you think my father would print, me or you?

- As a hatter! - In fact, we could have a race,

me against you.

I think we both know who'd win that.

If you want my opinion--

- Which we do not. - Just shut up, Passepartout!

[sighs]

What do you say, Lady Ellenborough?

Name your price.

Who is this precious father of yours?

Bernard Fortescue, editor of The Daily Telegraph.

Fix was my mother's maiden name.

Your father lived in Damascus, did you know that?

Yes of course. He talked of it often.

It's where he made his reputation as a journalist.

A reputation forged in the bars and brothels,

never the battlefields.

He'd steal braver journalists' reports,

embellish them, and send them to London.

That is not true!

I absolutely refuse to believe that.

I have led an unconventional life,

- as you know. - Yes.

It has attracted a lot of criticism,

some of it justified,

most of it horrid and untrue.

But I have never met

a more disgraceful man than your father.

How dare you!

He asked me to run away with him.

Did he tell you that, your beloved father?

The whore and the charlatan.

You're a liar!

♪♪♪♪♪

The more she resisted, the more obsessed with her he became.

When she finally refused him,

he wrote a vile piece in his London newspaper,

a piece that turned her own children against her.

"Jane Digby is a disgrace to her country,

a disgrace to her sex."

Who's to say she's not?

He wrote that she had run off with a camel driver.

My name is Sheik Medjuel el Mezrab,

from the great tribe of Anizzah.

I've never driven camels.

And why would it matter if I had?

Whatever you think of me...

I will be with that woman

until the day that death parts us.

When the sun goes down,

we leave for Al Hudaydah. Be ready.

Then the wager is lost.

Damn the wager.

♪♪♪♪♪

[palms rustling]

Do you believe the things they said about him?

- Abigail-- - The truth.

[groans softly, stammers]

A week ago I'd have said no, absolute rot.

But... that was when the world was black and white

and England were 270 for three at tea

and every question had its answer.

And now?

I stopped a bullet

meant for the president of France.

I've looked down on Paris from a balloon.

Maneuvered a steam train over an Italian ravine.

Today, my life is saved [whispers] by an Arab...

and a disgraced Englishwoman.

And now...

I discover

my oldest and dearest friend

may not be a hero after all.

Just a man...

who made some mistakes.

I'm sorry you won't win your bet.

I apologize...

for underestimating you, Abigail.

I hope you'll find it in your heart to forgive me.

And not just me.

His job was to write the truth..

and he chose to write lies.

There can be no forgiveness.

What will you do now?

I'll go back to London...

have a furious row with my father,

and then go back to reporting on dogs and flowers.

Sounds dull.

It's what I was meant to do.

I'm a fool for thinking anything different.

I was eighteen years old

when I was married to Lord Ellenborough.

He was twice my age,

barely talked to me,

preferred the company of his horses and mistresses.

I cried myself to sleep every night,

and asked my mother what I could do.

"Nothing," she said.

"He is your husband and you must be grateful."

I was not grateful.

I swore I would live my life,

not anybody else's.

[clapping] [Medjuel] Come on. Let's go.

Let's go!

Come on!

Is this journey important to you?

It was.

Now it means nothing.

Perhaps you were undertaking it for the wrong person.

It's your choice, Miss Fix.

I can take you back to Al Hudaydah,

or I can take you across the Empty Quarter to Aden.

♪♪♪♪♪

[speaking Arabic]

Just so you know,

it wasn't my idea to leave you behind.

Oh, I'm sure you argued my case passionately

all through the night.

I'm a mere valet. Nobody listens to me.

You're a man of straw, Passepartout.

You care only about yourself.

[Medjuel] If any of you want to survive the night...

you stay close together,

and you stay quiet.

♪♪♪♪♪

From here it is very dangerous.

Keep quiet, keep close.

I don't want it.

Take it.

I'm not killing anybody for a rich man's wager.

I'm not losing my wife

because you don't believe in anything.

Take it.

[horse whinnies]

What is it?

♪♪♪♪♪

[horse whinnies]

Dismount, quickly.

[Passepartout] Maybe they just want the camels.

[Medjuel] No.

They want us.

[Medjuel] Be ready.

[Passepartout] Be ready for what?

I can't see a thing.

♪♪♪♪♪

[breathes heavily]

Passepartout, do you remember when we--

[shouts] Move!

[neighs]

[gunshots]

[shouting]

[growls]

[yells]

[Abigail] There!

Be careful, Passepartout.

They're trying to get us to use up our ammunition.

How can we fight them if we can't even see them?

[gunshot]

[neighing]

[Abigail screams] Passepartout! Passepartout!

[horse whinnies]

♪♪♪♪♪

[gasps]

[men shouting]

[Fogg] Come, Miss Fix!

♪♪♪♪♪

[gunshots]

[Jane] I'm nearly out.

[Medjuel] As am I.

[Jane] Here they come again.

[speaking Arabic]

[Medjuel speaking in Arabic]

[explosion]

[matches rattle in box]

[gunshots]

[distant voices yelling]

[gunshots]

[Medjuel] They've gone for reinforcements.

We go now or we die.

[Abigail] Passepartout!

♪♪♪♪♪

♪♪♪♪♪

[Medjuel] There she is, my friends.

Aden.

♪♪♪♪♪

[indistinct chatter]

[Fogg] Let's go ahead and buy our tickets.

I hope it's not a Muslim ship. I simply must have a beer.

Have them draw a bath for me in my cabin

and have a jolly good scrub.

That petroleum.

Burned like a roman candle, didn't it?

This new industrial world

is going to need some powering.

I wonder if we could actually utilize that stuff.

[bags thump]

I killed a man, Monsieur.

I know you did, yes.

Nasty business.

Yes.

I understand now that my attempt

to circumnavigate the world in 80 days is not going to be

without... some extremely serious obstacles.

That is still all you care about?

Going around the world in 80 days?

I made a wager.

A bet!

That is the only reason you are here?

You're upset about killing a man, I understand that.

I'd be disappointed in you if you weren't.

Put that behind us now.

Look to the future, hmm?

To India.

I'll go and secure our cabins,

meet you and Miss Fix back at the market.

Yes?

Your friends really are

extremely interested in themselves.

Aren't they, Passepartout?

Who are you?

Drink?

[Abigail] For the offices of The Daily Telegraph

Fleet Street...

London.

Safely in Aden.

Stop.

[Jane] This is where we leave you.

On behalf of my father, I would like to apologize

for his behavior towards you and your husband.

One day, God willing, I will tell him to his face

of the great hurt he has done to you.

It's not important to me anymore.

But there is one thing you could do for me.

Anything.

When you get back to London...

tell my children.

I'll tell them.

Jane Digby... a marvel.

[Abigail] Stop.

♪♪♪♪♪

Every decision I made, I made for myself.

[Jane] The joy is mine...

the pain is mine.

Bernard Fortescue, a...

...a liar.

Stop.

♪♪♪♪♪

I've decided I'm going to let you continue

with me around the world.

Is that acceptable?

Most acceptable, yes.

Right, let's board our ship.

[Kneedling] I have a friend who is very ken

that our Mr. Fogg doesn't make t back to London on Christmas Eve.

All you need to do is make sure he's delayed in India

and misses the sailing to Hong Kong.

"The rich get all the money, and the poor get all the work,"?

Perhaps not always.

I don' t betray my friends.

Friends?

Is that really what they are?

Are they not your master and mistress

and care only about themselves and their wager?

Money...

is freedom.

One small favor for me

will buy you a lot of freedom.

Cigar?

[gunshot]

What do I have to do?

♪♪♪♪♪

[theme music plays]