So after all these years, my dotage nearly upon me, I’ve only now just seen Casablanca — the 1942 classic movie starring Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman. And I’m afraid I have to say, it ain’t all that.
Oh, it’s not a bad film certainly. Good performances by all. A few zinger lines. A commendable attempt to stir up some pathos. (Though I just don’t find the love affair between the two main characters convincing, ultimately. And I don’t know what Ingrid is there for really, except to look good. Otherwise she’s as bland as a breadstick.) And, excellent excellent use of lighting to set the mood.
So, not a bad film at all. Well worth the $4 I paid to rent it. But, disappointingly, not a great film. Not worth all the praise, parodies, and allusions that have piled on over the decades. Unless of course I’m missing something. That’s why I’ve started this thread.
Like anything that’s been hyped into the clouds — say Citizen Kane for example — Casablanca’s reputation might have raised unrealistic expectations in me. Anything in this world can end up overrated. Maybe it was just one of the greatest movies made as of 1942. Maybe it was a great movie compared to what else was available during the war. Maybe it’s considered to capture the best performances of its principle actors. Maybe, again like Citizen Kane, it pioneered some camera techniques, or plot devices, or drama conventions that earlier movies hadn’t tried yet.
So I’d like some help from cinema buffs, especially those knowledgeable about the art form’s history, to better understand what makes this movie supposedly stand out above its peers. Anyone’s input is welcome.
Do you have the version with the Ebert commentary? That gives quite a good bit of info that may help you appreciate the film more, though I don’t think you should try to force yourself to like it so much. I too saw it for the first time fairly recently, and although it’s not quite my favorite movie, I loved it and certainly felt the praise was justified…
For the record, I think Ingrid Bergman is very pretty. But when I watched Casablanca last year (for the second time) I couldn’t help but mentally giggle when the camera cut to her. Every shot of Bergman was in super-soft focus. It became a bit distracting for me.
I, too, saw Cassablanca for the first time a couple of weeks ago. I’m hardly a classic film buff, so I couldn’t tell you how it compares to other movies of the same period, but I thought the movie was damn near perfect. It probably helped that I had I had low expectations. I thought it would be more of a romance, and more mellodramatic. Instead it was fun.
Fun is the key to this movie’s greatness for me. It isn’t great in a self-concious Godfather, Schindler’s List sort of way, but in a fun Quentin Tarentino, Star Wars sort of a way. It has just enough romance to give it some emotional weight, just enough action to keep things interesting, plenty of suspence, great atmosphere and mood, and throughout, absolutely sparkelling dialogue. Seriously, even after having heard those lines quoted so many times, I just couldn’t believe how great they were. Dialogue like that should still make Tarentino and Spike Lee green with envy.
The characters, as you pointed out, were a little thin in and of themselves. But such is the nature of the genre–characters are props on which to hang plot twists and bon mots. Nevertheless, Bergman and especially Bogart were able to coax some real sense of the characters’ backgrounds and inner feelings that is just hinted at in the script. The look on Bogey’s face as he reminisces over his affair with Bergman makes the whole thing believable for me in a way the script and the flashback itself just doesn’t do.
Like I said, it isn’t King Lear, and if you go in expecting that, you’ll be disapointed. But if you’re looking for the perfect piece of Hollywood brain candy, I think Cassablanca still holds the title after all these years. And that’s pretty amazing when you think about it.
Always seemed the bulk of Casablanca’s rep had to do with how well its lead actor conveyed the emotional torture of someone having to face the love of his life after having been dumped by same. For me, it’s mostly about Bogart doing what he did best; playing a conflicted tough guy who will tell you he doesn’t stick his neck out for anyone, but who takes a principled stand when to do so is clearly not the smartest personal choice. The rest is some fairly memorable bits by various members of the Warners stock company, and the (for me) amusingly detailed way they mocked up the Exotic Near East on a Hollywood back lot.
BTW, for a different spin on the same theme (and some of the same Warner bit players), consider trying To Have and Have Not, which finally showed up on DVD a couple of months ago. Much lighter in tone, outstanding direction by Howard Hawks, and Lauren Bacall (in her first film) smokes up the screen. Casablanca has more emotional weight, but I actually prefer having To Have for my permanent collection.
Casablanca is pure Old Hollywood cheese—you can’t make the mistake of assuming it’s supposed to be taken seriously. The dialogue is corny, the plot is slick and a little contrived, and its air of heroism and noble sacrifice borders on ridiculous. It doesn’t matter—it’s really the finest piece of sheer entertainment ever created by the classic studio system. Like Bababooey says, don’t force yourself to like it, but don’t look at it as a Great Statement either; it was never intended to be that. Like all the great films from that time, it was meant to appeal to everyone, and so has a little bit of everything: comedy, menace, music, romance, sentiment.
Ah! There’s the rub. You’re reviewing this in 2004. Tell it to someone who watched it in 1942. Tell my father or mother it was “corny, slick, contrived, ridiculous, or mistakendly ‘supposed to be taken seriously’.”
If you don’t find the chemistry between Bergman and Bogart convincing, the movie is never going to work for you the way it does for those who love it. I have it in my collection, watch it a couple of times a year, and I still get a little bit of a chill up my spine every time Rick sees Ilsa for the first time.
I watched a lot of old movies when I was a kid. I don’t know why; I just did. The Little Rascals, Abbot and Costello*, and The Three Stooges were shown on Sunday mornings and early-afternoon. Often an old drama would be broadcast. And of course, Bugs Bunny parodied a lot of old films from the 1930s (“Hey George, I want a bunny rabbit that I can hug and pet…” was from Of Mice and Men starring Burgess Merideth and Lon Chaney Jr.); so when I’d see an old film after seeing the cartoon I’d have a little epiphany. And I also watched the glut of WWII films that were shown endlessly on TV.
I don’t remember when I first watched Casablanca. Could have been the 1970s or 1980s. But having grown up with an old-movie watching background, I “got it” right off the bat. Sure, I’d heard the hype; but when you’re young, it often doesn’t register. I thought it was a wonderfully romantic movie. (I’m an incurable romantic; probably because I’m romantically unsuccessful.) I could relate to Bogart’s character. And Bogart was the epitome of “cool”. The trench coat, the fedora, the tough-guy-with-a-heart-of-gold…
I didn’t see Citizen Kane until much later. Like, less than ten years ago. All my life I’d heard how great a film it is. I’ve heard people call it “the best film ever made”. So my expectations were high. Well, it’s a good film. But it didn’t strike me as one that deserved all that praise. I understand the Zeitgeist; but after hearing so much about it over the years before actually watching it, I was disappointed. It gets better every time I watch it though. I can see this happening with Casablanca. People who watched it because they felt they “had to” watch it should step back and watch it again without the pressure of “having to appreciate it”. I loved Casablanca the first time I watched it. But if you didn’t, could it be that it was less of a “Hey, let’s watch this film” thing, and more of a “homework assignment”? I’d suggest watching it again without feeling you “have to” like it; but I don’t know if that’s possible. But if you could see it again without pressuring yourself, I think you might enjoy it more.
I agree that To Have and Have Not is another great film. I prefer Casablanca personally, because Bogart’s character was cooler. I also liked the dialog better in Casablanca. (Not to take away from THaHN. Excellent – “sparkling” – dialog in that one as well. “Was you ever bit by a dead bee?” “You know how to whistle; don’t you, Steve?”) Maybe it’s just that I liked seeing Sidney Greenstreet in CasaBlanca better than Dan Seymour as the… er, “heavy”. To Have and Have Not is my second-favourite Bogart film.
Well, here’s my take on it. I think audiences then were generally more sophisticated than we are now. I think most adult moviegoers of the time, if you had asked them and they had stopped to think about it, would’ve admitted that Casablanca is a little corny and not very realistic, and that it certainly doesn’t strive to be “serious” in the way that something like “Lost Weekend” strives to be serious. But I think audiences can — and could more easily back then — surrender themselves to the spell of a story that is superbly told even if it doesn’t pass the strictest standards of dramatic integrity. That seems to have become harder for us in some ways, which may be one reason the OP didn’t respond very warmly to the film.
As others have mentioned, audiences in 2004 have become conditioned to expect certain things that Casablanca doesn’t have, like nudity, gross humor, lightning edits, pounding soundtrack, and “lowest common denominator” writing. Instead it possesses wit, charm, beauty, chemistry and all the other things lacking in most of today’s cinema. No wonder you didn’t like it!
“The thing that makes Casablanca great is that it is not a film about lost love, but about recovered idealism.” (Credit to Ebert for the formulation, if not the exact phrasing.)
The young Rick falls in love in Paris, and is unceremoniously dumped by Ilsa. (Watch Bogart’s face as he reads, crumples, and throws away her rain-soaked note. What you are watching is a man whose heart has just frozen solid in the space of ten seconds.) He buries himself in an out-of-the way spot and plans to sit out the war – not out of cowardice, or principle, but just because he cannot bring himself to give a damn.
After she returns to his life, he comes to realize that “the problems of two little people don’t amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world”, and resumes taking an active interest in the war, sending Ilsa off with Victor because it is what the world needs (although, really, Lazlo is a bit of a stiff – you never see any display of his presumed greatness).
To quote a quite different movie: [Geek Alert] “the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.” [/Geek Alert]
Viewed from today’s cynical, post-modern viewpoint, this is all sappily sentimental and corny. If Rick and Ilsa loved each other, why should they sacrifice this love for the war? Why should the world’s needs come before their own?
At the time, though, this was just what the WWII public wanted and needed to see.
Aw, c’mon, you’re telling me that you don’t stand at attention and sing La Marseillaise with a lump in your throat? I love that scene.
Casablanca is good solid filmmaking and storytelling, but it’s not technically groundbreaking (although as you noted, the cinematography is gorgeous). It certainly captured the Zeitgeist, and in a way that conveys to younger audiences on both a camp and a sincere level. And the dialogue just sizzles. I’ve loved it all my life, and I still find something new every time I watch it.
I especially find the relationship between Rick and Sam way ahead of its time, except for a few unfortunate conventions of the era, such as Ilsa referring to Sam as a “boy” (ooch) or Sam calling Rick “Mr. Richard.” One easy-to-miss example: shortly after the famous “I told you never to play that” scene, Rick is walking from the doorway across the bar and towards the camera (great deep-focus here). As he passes Sam at the piano, he very briefly leans over, then pats him on the shoulder and is grinning as he walks away. There’s nothing condescending in the gesture; it’s clearly one old pal apologizing in a gruff, manly way to someone he considers his equal as a man.
Bad dialogue? Huh? Your honor, the defense would like to present this to the court as “Exhibit A”:
Woman: What makes saloonkeepers so snobbish?
Banker: Perhaps if you told him I ran the second largest banking house in Amsterdam.
Carl: Second largest? That wouldn’t impress Rick. The leading banker in Amsterdam is now the pastry chef in our kitchen.
Banker: We have something to look forward to.
Ugarte: You know, Rick, I have many a friend in Casablanca, but somehow, just because you despise me, you are the only one I trust.
Berger: We read five times that you were killed, in five different places.
Victor Laszlo: As you can see, it was true every single time.
Captain Renault: Carl, see that Major Strasser gets a good table, one close to the ladies.
Carl: I have already given him the best, knowing he is German and would take it anyway.
Captain Renault: Rick, there are many exit visas sold in this café, but we know that you’ve never sold one. That is the reason we permit you to remain open.
Rick: Oh? I thought it was because I let you win at roulette.
Captain Renault: That is another reason.
Annina: Monsieur Rick, what kind of a man is Captain Renault?
Rick: Oh, he’s just like any other man, only more so.
Senor Ferrari: As the leader of all illegal activities in Casablanca, I am an influential and respected man.
Major Strasser: You give him credit for too much cleverness. My impression was that he’s just another blundering American.
Captain Renault: We musn’t underestimate American blundering. I was with them when they blundered into Berlin in 1918.
Major Strasser: Are you one of those people who cannot imagine the Germans in their beloved Paris?
Rick: It’s not particularly my beloved Paris.
Heinz: Can you imagine us in London?
Rick: When you get there, ask me!
Captain Renault: Hmmh! Diplomatist!
Major Strasser: How about New York?
Rick: Well there are certain sections of New York, Major, that I wouldn’t advise you to try to invade.
Captain Renault: This is the end of the chase.
Rick: Twenty thousand francs says it isn’t.
Captain Renault: Is that a serious offer?
Rick: I just paid out twenty. I’d like to get it back.
Captain Renault: Make it ten. I’m only a poor corrupt official.
Ugarte: Rick, think of all the poor devils who can’t meet Renault’s price. I get it for them for half. Is that so… parasitic?
Rick: I don’t mind a parasite. I object to a cut-rate one.
Yvonne: Where were you last night?
Rick: That’s so long ago, I don’t remember.
Yvonne: Will I see you tonight?
Rick: I never make plans that far ahead.
Captain Renault: How extravagant you are, throwing away women like that. Some day they may be scarce.
Captain Renault: What in heaven’s name brought you to Casablanca?
Rick: My health. I came to Casablanca for the waters.
Captain Renault: The waters? What waters? We’re in the desert.
Rick: I was misinformed.
Captain Renault: My dear Ricky, you overestimate the influence of the Gestapo. I don’t interfere with them and they don’t interfere with me. In Casablanca I am master of my fate! I am…
Police Officer: Major Strasser is here, sir!
Rick: You were saying?
Captain Renault: Excuse me.
Senor Ferrari: Might as well be frank, monsieur. It would take a miracle to get you out of Casablanca, and the Germans have outlawed miracles.
Jan Brandel: Captain Renault… may I?
Captain Renault: Oh no! Not here please! Come to my office tomorrow morning. We’ll do everything businesslike.
Jan Brandel: We’ll be there at six!
Captain Renault: I’ll be there at ten.
Rick: How can you close me up? On what grounds?
Captain Renault: I’m shocked, shocked to find that gambling is going on in here!
[A croupier hands Renault a pile of money]
Croupier: Your winnings, sir.
Captain Renault: [sotto voce] Oh, thank you very much.
Captain Renault: [aloud] Everybody out at once!
Rick: And remember, this gun is pointed right at your heart.
Captain Renault: That is my least vulnerable spot.
Captain Renault: Major Strasser has been shot. Round up the usual suspects.
[QUOTE=don’t mind me]
Aw, c’mon, you’re telling me that you don’t stand at attention and sing La Marseillaise with a lump in your throat? I love that scene.
I always love the subtle moment when the Lazlo asks the band leader to play La Marseillaise, and the leader looks at Rick, who thinks about a second and then nods agreement. That’s the point when Rick comes back to the land of the living, and forshadows the end of the movie.
I don’t know how they got the whole scene on tape without everyone cracking up.
All good posts - I’ll add mine. Bytegeist - do yourself a favor. Watch it three times within, oh, a month or so. The third time should get you. It did me.
For some reason, the pacing and dialogue of Casablanca just click into place for me at that point - I started to realize how perfect every piece was. No fat on this movie - everything serves a purpose. And everything is just good enough, but taken together, is has more “good enough” stuff across the board than most any other movie.
Three times. That’s went on I got it. I bet you might, too.
I think you are right about this… his heart freezes as he is standing in the rain in Paris, and thaws out just about here. Very nice, Annie.
When I was in college, I ran across a book of the movie Casablanca. The book had a frame from each shot in the movie, together with the complete dialog as captions. A real work of art. I memorized the movie from this book.
Why would I need a book to do this? This was before the days of VCRs, so you only ever saw the movie on very late night TV or at a campus film festival (which is where I first saw it). God, I’m getting old…