[QUOTE=jsc1953]
Musing upon the scene between Rick and the Bulgarian hottie, and how the production code forced the dialog to be so oblique, with circuitous references to people who “do bad things, but kept them in their heart”.
[/QUOTE]
I feel it emphasizes her innocence and vulnerability. Belle Watling would drop trou for Reneau in a second and Rick wouldn’t be distressed, but this kid is innocence personified.
[QUOTE=Raguleader]
There’s a ski comedy movie from a few years ago called Out Cold, which was very heavily influenced by Casablanca, to the point where a number of lines and plot points were lifted directly from Casablanca. The movie is one of the funniest movies I’ve ever seen.
[/QUOTE]
Then there’s Overdrawn at the Memory Bank , which lifts a number of lines and plot points directly from Casablanca, and is one of the *stupidest *movies I’ve ever seen.
[QUOTE=carnivorousplant]
I feel it emphasizes her innocence and vulnerability. Belle Watling would drop trou for Reneau in a second and Rick wouldn’t be distressed, but this kid is innocence personified.
[/QUOTE]
Concur, as I’ve said before, I can imagine a lot of refugees hitting Casablanca and saying “who do I have to fuck to get off this rock,” and Rick couldn’t have cared less.
As to the plot holes, I read somewhere that while there were certainly German agents in French Morocco, they would never have been openly in uniform. If you imagine all the Nazi’s in civilian clothing they’re limitations make more sense.
a new question in the opening scenes, when they shoot the refugee with expired papers, they pan to a wall poster with a picture and writing in french, presumably a slogan of the Vichy government, anybody have a translation? The context?
[QUOTE=ralph124c]
The "letters of transit " were signed by General DeGaulle-who was Degaulle in 1943? Why would a Vichy official care about letters signed by DeGaulle?
[/QUOTE]
Ugarte was a dolt to whom all Frenchmen looked alike and had unpronouncable names. The letters were really signed by General Petain but Ugarte garbled his name.
That’s my theory, anyway.
[QUOTE=Freddy the Pig]
The letters were really signed by General Petain but Ugarte garbled his name.
That’s my theory, anyway.
[/QUOTE]
Good gad, Sir, we could have used you in some Star Trek threads.
[QUOTE=outlierrn]
a new question in the opening scenes, when they shoot the refugee with expired papers, they pan to a wall poster with a picture and writing in french, presumably a slogan of the Vichy government, anybody have a translation? The context?
[/QUOTE]
I remember the slogan being “Liberte, Egalite, Fraternite”–the traditional slogan of republican France, serving in the scene as an ironic counterpoint to the murder. The words are next to a picture that I always assumed was Petain, although now that I think about it I don’t have any clear idea about what Petain looked like.
I could be wrong, however. According to wikipedia the Petain regime discontinued LEF in favor of “Travail, Famille, Patrie” (Labor, Family, Fatherland). Can anybody confirm what was in the movie?
[QUOTE=Freddy the Pig]
Ugarte was a dolt to whom all Frenchmen looked alike and had unpronouncable names. The letters were really signed by General Petain but Ugarte garbled his name.
That’s my theory, anyway.
[/QUOTE]
Heh, I like the way you think – although your theory would make much more sense if the signatory was Pierre Laval, a die-hard French Nazi and the prime mover behind Vichy’s active collaboration with Hitler, instead of Petain, whose motivations for serving as the figurehead leader had much to do with his social conservatism (think “family values”), abhorrence of anarchy and senseless violence, and his determination to minimize suffering and help France weather their occupation.
Besides, Laval rhymes with DeGaulle. 
My interpretation of Ilsa Lund is completely at odds with that of Stranger on a Train. The way I see it, every major character in Casablanca is a metonymic stand-in for his or her country: Rick for the not-yet-fully-committed USA (or at least Brooklyn), Louis for urbane Vichy France (his pragmatic “but personally, I will take what comes” is a classic statement of the Parisian mentality), Ilsa for neutral Sweden, Victor Laszlo for occupied Mitteleuropa (be it Hungary or Bohemia), and Stroesser for Deutschland.
Considered in this way, Ilsa is a remarkable figure in her own right from the moment of her introduction, as a Swede who has relinquished the relative security of her country’s official neutrality (if rather cozy relationship with Germany), in favor of living a most unsettled and risky life in the Resistance demimonde, perpetually making do on the fly, in whatever country her husband is compelled to visit. Her role is singularly liminal in a film abounding with characters of uncertain loyalities and characters, for if Ilsa is neither a typical Resistance figure, nor is she “merely” a loyal wife. In fact, to be known as merely a wife would mark, in a way, an improvement in and definition of her status. As it is, her marriage to Victor has been kept a most closely guarded secret, even from Victor’s and her closest friends in the Resistance, for her protection (and also his). Thus by accompanying Victor from one corner of Europe to the other, Ilsa is willing to be known, vaguely, as a shadowy companion – perhaps a comrade or assistant here, or a lover or ex-lover there – but never enjoying the respectability of a wife, even amongst their friends.
And just what is it that Ilsa does, anyway? That’s left largely undefined, although there’s a few tantalizing hints dropped along the way. We know from various sources, including Victor himself, that she’s crucial to his work as a Resistance leader, and that the two of them have shared many vital and dangerous missions together. It’s also suggested that her support is more emotional than anything (she’s what keeps Victor going, making it possible for him to keep up the good fight). This, in spite of the logistical difficulties that a couple must face as opposed to a solitary agent working (and hiding, and using fake I.D.s…) alone. Yet Victor and Ilsa are both willing to undertake that baseline risk to to them both. There must be some compelling reason for this, even if it’s left unexplained.
But can’t we expand upon this rudimentary sketch based on what we observe about Ilsa in the film, supplemented by some reasonable conjecture? Ilsa’s nationality probably offers several advantages or resources to her husband’s work: her Swedish citizenship is neutral cover (and refuge), as is her physical presence at times, when it may be easier to pass as a couple. No doubt she also possesses Scandinavian contacts useful to the continental Victor.
More importantly in the film, Ilsa is gifted with an enigmatic sexual magnetism, in which she is both, clearly, a sophisticated and capable woman of the world, while simultaneously possessing a very youthful innocence and emotionalism. Her psychological duality could be read as an example of the archtypal “madonna/whore” dualism of female sexuality. This becomes apparent in the film when we understand that although her passion is for Rick, she had left him behind in Paris to rejoin her husband. Although her love holiday in Paris with Rick was premarital and technically adulterous, it was purely motivated by love and passion in a way that her wifely loyalty to her husband might not be. (It was also, almost literally, a lifesaving event for Ilsa, who had all but lost her will to live after believing she had lost her husband.) In effect, Ilsa had proved willing to sacrifice her secret love, and the source of her rejuvenated love of life, in order to serve (whore herself) for a greater good, in an alliance determined by her head rather than her heart.
But Ilsa shows us that she’s capable of feigning a more conventional kind of whoring when doing so serves her husband for a pointedly specific purpose, although she paradoxically proves incapable of dismissing her emotional needs forever. To secure the letters of transit that would save her and her husband, she first secretly visits Rick in a friendly, nostalgic mein; when that fails, she proves willing to threaten him with deadly force. But her friendly overture was not entirely mercenary, as she’s unable to follow through with her threat; ultimately, Ilsa offers herself to Rick and forces him to decide their fate. Torn asunder by her head and heart’s conflict, Ilsa simply cannot choose any longer between Victor and Rick.
It’s at this point in the film that Rick’s prior misreading of Ilsa is resolved, allowing him to reconcile himself to her true loyalties and regain his own youthful antifascist idealism. Rick’s bitterness over his earlier abandonment by Ilsa was exaggerated by his misreading (promoted by Ilsa herself) of her motivations as emotional (perhaps failure to commit, perhaps a love rival, but left maddeningly vague), rather than idealistic (her rejoining her husband). And just why didn’t Ilsa make the nature of her dilemma clear in her message to Rick at the train station? Probably an excess of secrecy born of caution concerning Victor’s identity and their marriage. But I always thought that her motivation could have been nobler and more self-sacrificing in a way: that she though that an inadequate explanation might help him get over her easier, by hating her more. If that was her intent, though, it sadly backfired, as Rick settled into a post-smuggling identity as an embittered, cynical “drunkard” and “saloon owner,” who can’t even bear to hear their song anymore.
Which brings us to a final paradox produced by these often paradoxical characters: it requires Ilsa’s whoring herself and psychological collapse to make Rick see her inner conflict, between her idealistic support of her husband and the Resistance, and her passionate love for Rick. His understanding that she really did love him (and still does) leads to an empathetic understanding of her sacrifices in serving alongside Victor, and why that work is worth his support, too. If she could give up her greatest love for a cause, then so will he now, when she’s unable to choose and forces him to do the thinking for them both.
What Ilsa’s machinations suggest is that, her final psychological breakdown aside, she can function pretty well as a spy in her own right. What would not be known until many years after WWII (and the making of Casablanca) is the role played by women in the Resistance and the allied intelligence networks operating in the European theater. There were, in fact, a great many “Ilsas” working in various capacities for MI6, the French Resistance, and other organizations. Some of the most successful spies of WWII were Englishwomen based in France and elsewhere; some were young and comely, but others were middle-aged (or older) and matronly, whose official identities were as nannies or such. They were greatly assisted in their work by the prevailing sexism on the part of many Germans and their collaborators, who were often thus blinkered in their comprehension. It is a mistake perhaps too easily made even today…
Those are the slogans in the movie poster.
As I recall, the “letters of transit” are ‘signed by Weygand, cannot be rescinded, not even questioned’
[polite clap]
I think Stranger pegged it. Ilsa the Manipulator makes more sense than Ilsa the Irresistible Inanity. (She’s a lot like Lucy Mannette in A Tale of Two Cities, a boring and empty shell that manages to ensnare two very magnetic men.)
So, Stranger, what did you think of To Have and Have Not? Or Key Largo?
Regarding the slogan . . . The words are:
Any francophones who can help with translation and context?
Afterward the camera cuts to “Liberte Egalite Fraternite” carved in cement above the police station, which is why I remembered it.
“Je tiens mes promesses, meme celles des autres.”
I keep my promises. I even keep other people’s"
[QUOTE=Captain Amazing]
I keep my promises. I even keep other people’s"
[/QUOTE]
An odd political slogan . . . But apparently it really was used by Petain, and had something to do with honoring pensions promised by a previous government.
The background to the quote…the Socialists had been trying to pass a law creating old age pensions (like Social Security in the US) since 1936. In 1939, the bill had even passed the lower house, but was defeated by conservatives in the Senate. In March of 1941, Petain just declared that from now on, France would have a pension system. In his speech declaring it, he used the quote.
Of course, the quote has additional meaning when seen through the lens of the movie.
Rick fought in the Spanish Civil War (1936), and came in on the losing side. He has managed to build up a nice business in Casablanca (a bar and casino), despite having to leave Paris in 1940. By 1941 he hs a thriving business (how come everybody drinks at Rick’s?). Rick is so successful that his rival (the guy who runs the Blue Parrot) wants to buy him out. Is Rick part of the Casablanca underworld? His casino must be fairly crooked, as he has to pay bribes to Capt. Renault . So is Rick really a sympathetic character? I say he is just like Ugarte-just a bit cleaner.By the way, did the Germans ever occupy Casablanca? Or did they trust their Vichy allies enough to ru the place?
[QUOTE=ralph124c]
By the way, did the Germans ever occupy Casablanca? Or did they trust their Vichy allies enough to ru the place?
[/QUOTE]
Vichy France was officially neutral during the war (although, of course, in reality, they gave a lot of help to the Germans). In Operation Torch, the Allies invaded French North Africa (including Morocco), which surrendered without much fighting. At that point, Germany occupied Vichy France. But French Morocco was never in German hands.
[QUOTE=ralph124c]
Is Rick part of the Casablanca underworld? His casino must be fairly crooked, as he has to pay bribes to Capt. Renault .
[/QUOTE]
One would think everyone made gifts to Captain Renault in order to stay in business.
And I wouldn’t say that Rick is “just like Ugarte- just a bit cleaner”. Look at Rick’s background…he spent all his money running guns to the Ethiopians, he fought for the Republicans during the civil war. We know that he’s not willing to take advantage of the refugees, and we never see him act dishonorably in the movie, even, at the end, giving the letters of transit to Ilsa and her husband instead of 1. Selling them, which Ugarte wants to do, or 2. Going with Ilsa himself, which is what he really wants to do.
Like Renault says to him:
“Rick, there are many exit visas sold in this cafe, but we know that you have never sold one. That is the reason we permit you to remain open.”, and as Rick himself puts it, “I don’t buy or sell human beings.”
Ugarte and Renault do, and that’s why he’s better than they are.
The Scrivener, having writ(well), scrivens on.
Damned fine analysis.
[QUOTE=Captain Amazing]
And I wouldn’t say that Rick is “just like Ugarte- just a bit cleaner”. Look at Rick’s background…he spent all his money running guns to the Ethiopians, he fought for the Republicans during the civil war.
[/QUOTE]
No, he made money running guns to the Ethiopians, and fighting for the Republicans. He just would have made much more fighting for the other side. To wit:
RICK
Louis, what gave you the impression
that I might be interested in helping
Laszlo escape?
RENAULT
Because, my dear Ricky, I suspect
that under that cynical shell you're
at heart a sentimentalist.
RICK makes a face
RENAULT
Oh, laugh if you will, bugt I happen
to be familiar with your record.
Let me point out just two items. In
1935 you ran guns to Ethiopia. In
1936, you fought in Spain for the
Loyalist side.
RICK
And got well paid for it on both
occasions.
RENAULT
The winning side would have paid you
much better.
RICK
Maybe. Well, it seems you are
determined to keep Laszlo here.
Rick may not be a parasite, but he’s no casual philanthropist either. He certainly isn’t above bending some rules to get what he wants, and he’s also canny enough to know who to pay off and how, and having set himself in an apparently successful business presumably within months of having moved to Casablanca, he seems to be a pretty smooth operator and a man who knows how to make connections. He does, however, have a need to be seen as noble and protect the innocent, a character tic that Ilsa knows very well how to exploit to her own ends. Rick was a good catch in Paris, after her husband was assumed dead–he’s a man who knows how to get out of a tight spot–but ultimately Laszlo is the more up-and-coming prospect, and he’ll no doubt go onto a great career in the post-war world as a wise pundit and successful author and lecturer. She’s smart to hitch her wagon to his horse, but first she has to get him to America, and Rick is the only bloke around who has both the guts and the slick to get them out of this hitch. She just needs to make him feel guilty about feeling so jilted, and then he’ll trip over himself trying to prove what a square guy he really is–which of course he is, only he’s being taking for a ride.
Rick is every bit as clever as Ilsa needs him to be, but not half as smart as he thinks of himself. Hell, he can’t even see how Captain Renault, pining over him, beards himself with every blonde and brunette that crosses in front of his desk. Sam, on the other hand, is the all-knowing, no-telling presence in the film.
Stranger
[QUOTE=Stranger On A Train]
Rick was a good catch in Paris, after her husband was assumed dead–he’s a man who knows how to get out of a tight spot–but ultimately Laszlo is the more up-and-coming prospect, and he’ll no doubt go onto a great career in the post-war world as a wise pundit and successful author and lecturer. She’s smart to hitch her wagon to his horse, but first she has to get him to America, and Rick is the only bloke around who has both the guts and the slick to get them out of this hitch. She just needs to make him feel guilty about feeling so jilted, and then he’ll trip over himself trying to prove what a square guy he really is–which of course he is, only he’s being taking for a ride.
Stranger
[/QUOTE]
Sorry, but I can’t just let this go unchallenged. I enjoy the occasional Marxist cultural analysis as much as anyone, but the Achilles heel of such efforts is their tendency to reduce the sum of human complexity to the materialistic, money-driven impulse. You keep portraying Ilsa Lund as a mercenary gold-digger, whose sole (or at least primary) motivation is her lust for money/social status/security – as if her goal in life was to settle down as some well-heeled housewife and raise a clutch of kids in bourgeois comfort!
As I’ve already pointed out, Ilsa is almost certainly a citizen of politically neutral Sweden, and thus stands in for politically neutral countries, in the way that the other major characters represent other political positions vis-a-vis the war. As such, she lacks the compelling rationale to confront the Nazis (who never do occupy Sweden) shared by those whose countries have been overrun by the Third Reich. If you insist in regarding these characters as little wind-up mechanical *Homo Economicus * rational actors, at least do it evenhandedly. Ilsa’s relationship to the Resistance is not the crassest, but the most idealistic of all the characters in Casablanca, for she is the only one whose involvement was impelled by love and pure idealism. Ugarte tweaks the Vichy authorities, but only out of his base, criminal self-interest. Victor’s certainly noble and self-sacrificing, but he’s also fighting for his country’s liberation. Rick’s involvement was limited to the '30’s and had been motivated, by his own admission, [partly] by profit. During the war, he had been content to retire from all anti-fascist activity, sink his money into the cafe, and, as a businessman, be the film’s stand-in for the bourgeoisie.
I also disagree that Ilsa had the aim of maneuvering her man into secreting her safely to the States. Ilsa reveals no need or desire to escape to America or even to return to her own country; her place is by Victor’s side, which is usually one step ahead of the Gestapo. There’s no doubting Victor’s sincere intention to continue the fight, even if they must first use neutral Lisbon as a way-station prior to rejoining the struggle in various Nazi-occupied lands (“we will continue the struggle, and I know this time we will win”).
The surest way for Ilsa to indulge a gold-digger’s avarice would have been for her to have simply stayed home and snared herself a well-off Swedish gentleman (one of those wartime collaborators profiting off trade with the Reich, say), instead of sacrificing social respectability, wealth, and safety to be in the Resistance as a figure loosely associated with Victor Laszlo – and no doubt surmised by many to be merely his lover or mistress.
As for Laszlo’s postwar prospects as a pundit/lecturer/author, I wouldn’t dismiss that as impossible, but it sounds rather improbable. Laszlo’s a bright fellow with a lot of admirable qualities, but possession of a post-grad education isn’t necessarily one of them. He is, first and foremost, a man of action and commitment, in pointed contrast [unalluded to in the film] to many actual intellectuals and academics who remained noncommittal (or worse) during the war. The only way Victor could profit during the war would be to skim a large portion of the proceeds from the Resistance coffers, and he’s entirely too noble for that. When the war is at long last over, Victor Laszlo will likely return to his country and help rebuild it as best he can, and getting rich isn’t necessarily part of that goal, either. Especially if his idealism mutates from anti-fascism to anti-communism, in which case he won’t likely experience any greater degree of prosperity or security than he did while being hunted by the Nazis…