Small World

By Richard Zoglin

ELLIS ISLAND, CBS, Nov. 11, 8p.m. E.S.T.; Nov. 13 and 14, 9p.m. E.S.T.

Georgie O'Donnell, a pretty Irish lass who has immigrated to America and promptly gone blind, hears a familiar voice one day on the streets of turn-of-the-century New York City. Could it be? Yes, it is! "Marco Santorelli," she cries. "We danced on the boat coming over!" Marco, an Italian immigrant who is working his way up in the trucking business, has just had a coincidental reunion of his own--with Maud Charteris (Faye Dunaway), a rich actress for whom he once worked as a gardener in Italy. And talk about a small world: Marco's friend Jake, a Russian Jew who came over on that same crowded boat, hears the tinkle of a ragtime piano while strolling through Harlem. Darned if it isn't Roscoe Haines (Ben Vereen), who helped Jake earn his passage to America back in Hamburg.

Ellis Island, the most ambitious network mini-series of the season thus far, starts out with a reasonable plan: to pluck four individuals from the huddled masses who came to these shores and tell their stories. Unfortunately, the seven-hour drama (based on a novel by Fred Mustard Stewart, who also had a hand in the teleplay) seems less interested in chronicling the immigrant experience than in salvaging the wretched refuse of scores of bad Hollywood movies.

The story of Jake Rubin (played with starched-collar sobriety by Peter Riegert) is straight out of a grade-B musical bio. Jake goes to work as a waiter but is soon writing songs for a gruff but good-hearted music publisher (Stubby Kaye). Eventually he is the toast of Broadway, rubbing shoulders with Flo Ziegfeld and wooing a nightclub singer (Ann Jillian) whom he marries and makes a star. "When I first saw the Statue of Liberty," he tells her, "I thought it was the most beautiful sight I'd ever seen. But I hadn't seen you."

His friend Marco (Greg Martyn) embodies a more generic rags-to-riches cliche. A strapping Italian hunk, he becomes the rich actress's kept man, uses her money to start himself in business, then (after eluding an attempt to deport him) vows to get an education and make lots of money. "I'm gonna have it all, Jake," he announces, celebrating what is surely that line's 100th anniversary in show business. The soap opera continues with Bridget and Georgie O'Donnell (Alice Krige and Judi Bowker), a pair of sisters who flee Ireland when Bridget is implicated in a political kidnaping. She marries a doctor who works on Ellis Island, while her sightless sister forges a career, improbably, as a writer of silent-movie westerns.

Directed by Jerry London (Shogun), Ellis Island moves along at a sprightly clip, and its incident-crammed plot may well draw a big audience. But this turn-of-the-century Love Boat would be more involving if the hardships faced by its posterboard characters were not so contrived and transitory. Like many TV sagas, Ellis Island subscribes to the Evil Man theory of history. Never mind poverty, prejudice, overcrowded conditions; the only thing standing in the way of these immigrants is a nasty villain or two. One is the O'Donnell sisters' uncle (Milo O'Shea), who tries to get Marco deported; another is an Irish rebel on the lam, who arrives in America and tries to blackmail Bridget. Once these bad eggs are removed from the scene, America is a land of unremitting sunshine and success. The streets really are paved with gold.

Ellis Island does make one unintended historical contribution: the final screen appearance of the late Richard Burton. As an aristocratic U.S. Senator, Burton is wanly dignified in a sketchily written supporting role. He seems content to cede the spotlight to Dunaway, who flaunts her arched eyebrows and chiseled cheekbones with campy abandon; she appears to be one step away from a guest shot on Dynasty. More engaging is Burton's real-life daughter Kate, who plays the Senator's rebellious daughter. Her character is beset by a panoply of misfortunes rivaling the ten plagues of Egypt (artistic rejection, frigidity, alcoholism, a lesbian love affair), but Burton goes at it with a pouty earnestness that is rather touching. Her father would have been proud. --By RichardZoglin