I will not bore you by summarizing the accomplishments of the actors of Casablanca; Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman need no introduction. I will not even ramble on about what the impact of a movie made in 1942 had in its days considering it also depicted some hardships of the Second World War.
The narrative framework is fairly straightforward:
“With the coming of the Second World War, many eyes of imprisoned Europe turned, hopefully or desperately, towards the freedom of the Americas. Lisbon became the great embarkation point. But not everybody could get to Lisbon directly. And so a torturous, roundabout refugee trail sprang up. Paris to Marseilles. Across the Mediterranean to Oran. Then by train or auto or foot across the rim of Africa, to Casablanca in French Morocco. Here, the fortunate ones, through money or influence or luck might obtain exit visas ad scurry to Lisbon. And from Lisbon to the New World. But the others wait in Casablanca. And wait…and wait… and wait.”
In under a minute the movie has already set everything up; even the narrator, by emphasizing those final words, creates the feeling of dreadful anguish that was clutching Europe tighter and tighter. The waiting, the desperation, the bargaining and the importance of having something to bargain with, all these elements intensify the suffering that was felt throughout the nations. As much as the difficulty of war is certainly an important theme, it merely creates the setting, for the story is one of love and loss (and one of the most beautifully written at that, in my opinion).
Most of the action takes place at Rick’s Café Américain. The place itself is packed full of life in that ’40 typical outline: from the fancy dresses and the white suites, the constant drinking and smoking, the musicians constantly playing, the compulsive gambling and endless corruption. This was the core of Casablanca.
Rick Blaine, the owner, is fantastically interpreted by Humphrey Bogart; he is the kind of man that apparently is not interested in what others do and what their problems are, after all he “doesn’t stick his neck for nobody”. He is smug, cynical, blunt, has no scruples and resents recalling his past; despite all of this, he has a unique charm. The actor is perfect for this role, especially considering other characters he will portray in a similar fashion in noir movies such as Sam Spade or Philip Marlowe (as a side note, Chandler is a brilliant author). His tough-guy act is enhanced by his dry witted humor and the seriousness with which he delivers his lines, for instance when he is asked why he came to Casablanca, he replies:
-I came for the waters.
-But we are in the desert.
-I was misinformed.
Another great example these quick back-and-forth dialogues:
-Where were you last night?
-That’s so long ago, I don’t remember.
-Will I see you tonight?
-I never make plans that far ahead.
As far as the story goes, it is told by the glances, the peeks, the glimpses, the stares and the intensity of the eyes of the two protagonists. Before being informed of a shared past between Rick Blain and Ilsa Lund through dialogue, that we already know it for the way the two look at each other.
Ilsa Lund, interpreted by Ingrid Bergman, brings to the stage the suffering of a difficult past. The reasons why she had to abandon Rick in Paris and help another man, despite the love and truthful nature of her feelings, are narrated by the shimmer in her teary eyes more than by her words.
The pain and the sorrow of the two characters take them through some of the most beautiful interactions in film history, without even needing to speak; since Rick always taught that Ilsa had betrayed him, at a certain point his words become hurtful, filled with resentment, just to regret them moments later.
There is a scene that I would like to especially point out. Towards the middle of the movie, we discover that a young Bulgarian couple (who had gotten to Casablanca to escape and seek refuge in a better place) enters Rick’s Café; the husband decides to gamble the little money he has left in order to get the two obligatory visas. In a brilliantly elusive dialogue, the Bulgarian woman asks Rick for counsel (not a favor nor money!) and wants to know it the police captain is trustworthy since he was behind the whole scheme. She asks if the captain will keep his word and if a wife would be ever forgiven by her husband if she were to do something horrible one time in her life. The nuance the conversation takes, without explicitly pointing out the evident thing that was about to happen, also applies to an extent to Rick’s circumstances. Despite how he acts, by now it is known that he is a good-guy underneath; in a scene that could just be described by wholesome, Rick helps the Bulgarian spouse to win at the roulette by making his own croupier cheat and then sends them on their way. This scene is touching on the most humane level.
One final detail, since I am not going to spoil in any way the ending, regards the music. “As time goes by”, originally composed in 1931 by Herman Hupfeld (I had to google that one – most people, including me, would associate it with Frank Sinatra), is a beautiful piece that fits perfectly with the themes of the movie.
That being said, here’s to looking at you kid…
I would rate it 9 sentimentalist hearts out of 10 cynical shells.
Article in Italian: https://quirkyhorizons.com/e-noi-avremmo-sempre-casablanca/