by Allan Fish
(USA 1942 102m) DVD1/2
We’ll always have Paris
p Hal B.Wallis d Michael Curtiz w Julius J.Epstein, Philip G.Epstein, Howard Koch play “Everybody Comes to Rick’s” by Murray Burnett, Joan Alison ph Arthur Edeson ed Owen Marks montage Don Siegel m Max Steiner song “As Time Goes By” by Herman Hupfeld art Carl Jules Weyl cos Orry Kelly
Humphrey Bogart (Rick Blaine), Ingrid Bergman (Ilse Lund-Laszlo), Paul Henreid (Victor Laszlo), Claude Rains (Capt.Louis Renault), Sydney Greenstreet (Signor Ferrari), Peter Lorre (Ugarte), Conrad Veidt (Maj.Heinrich Strasser), S.Z.Sakall (Carl), Dooley Wilson (Sam), Marcel Dalio (Emile, the Croupier), Leonid Kinskey (Sascha), Madeleine le Beau (Yvonne), John Qualen (Berger), Joy Page (Annina Brandel), Helmut Dantine (Jan Brandel), Dan Seymour (Abdul), Curt Bois (Pickpocket), Lou Marcelle (Narrator),
Casablanca is probably the cinema’s greatest movie legend, greater even than Gone With the Wind; idolised, revered, copied, cherished and, above all, reviewed with constant enthusiasm by millions of idolaters. Films such as these fill you with trepidation, fear of perhaps not seeing what all the fuss was about. In my case, I had no need to worry. I love Casablanca as much as I did when I first saw it. Indeed, like so many, I probably love it even more now, even though I can nearly recite each line before it’s spoken. I mean, it’s even Hugh Hefner’s favourite movie. “Here’s looking at you…” indeed.
It’s amazing to think it was so nearly so very different, planned to originally star – wait for it – Ronald Reagan, Ann Sheridan and Dennis Morgan (cue repulsed gasps). It was enough to make you wonder what would have happened if another studio had made it; say RKO. They’d probably have seen Casablanca as too sophisticated and rechristened it, and transferred the action to, Marrakech. It would probably have starred Robert Young and Susan Hayward, which is enough to make even me nauseous. Let’s move on.
Many point at the fact that the story itself is nonsense, the whole central plot premise about the visas to Lisbon being a pure fabrication. In the words of Alicia Silverstone’s Cher Horowitz, “hellooooooo!“ It’s a movie, guys. Get over it! But to merely call Casablanca a movie seems to reek of disrespect. It’s a romantic thriller with comedy asides to make you drool, performed by a cast who go so far beyond iconic as to be in the next galaxy. Ingrid Bergman is so beautiful in this you feel like your insides are about to melt and her Ilse is probably the supreme Hollywood image of the woman that got away. If Henreid, Lorre and Greenstreet are basically on autopilot (with the latter so out of place in fez as to be beyond description), who cares? Then there’s poor old Dooley Wilson, doomed to forever sing ‘As Time Goes By’ in everybody’s mind and Marcel Dalio, still better known in the US for a virtual cameo as the croupier, in spite of his great work for Renoir (his de la Chesnaye in La Règle du Jeu would have recognised the irony). German Conrad Veidt is the personification of the Nazi evil that, as part of the Hollywood fraternity, he escaped from in his homeland (and he sadly died less than a year after making the film) and Claude Rains gives what is one of the greatest supporting performances as “poor corrupt official” Louis Renault, who has more great lines than even Woody Allen could dream of. But Bogart is the man here, a performance so immortal as to be worthy of Hollywood canonisation and totally beyond my meagre keyboard.
Casablanca is a movie made up of many diverse elements, but this time Curtiz’s not so crackpot inventor mixed his alchemic ingredients together and came up with pure gold. To put it another way, it’s a cinematic equivalent of painting by numbers where the result turns out to be as rich as a Raphael or a Poussin. A fluke maybe, but for me that’s underestimating the talents who worked so seamlessly on it. This is the movie that is the perfect antidote to the auteur theory. In no way can one person be creatively at the helm of this movie. It’s like a mystery cocktail whose ingredients have, to our eternal regret, been lost to posterity. But one which continual acquaintance with is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.
It wouldn’t be possible to say much more about this movie legend, but at it’s heart it’s essentially an incomparable love story. Everything else is just tinsel dressing. I expect it will at the top or near the top of this poll.
Well, I would say that the film contains more famous and quotable lines than any other in film history. i.e. “This is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”
“I came to Casablanca for the waters……I must have been misinformed.” etc.
This is one film you could never see too much.
Hi! Allan Fish,
“Here Looking at you, Allan” …Oops! I meant…” kid”
“We will always have Paris…”
“Of all the Gin Joints in all the world, she…
I want play the sap…for you! Oops!
“wrong” film…”right” man!
Allan, so many “great” quotes from the 1942 film “Casablanca” and “The Maltese Falcon”…(She said, “Sheepishly!”)
Thank-you! for such a very detailed review and for pointing out what makes this film sooo….“memorable” after all these years!
…and to Tony, all I can say…”Is that I want my 21 grams to remain intact!… hence, the reason that this film was also included on my Best Movies of the 1940 list!….Thank-you! very much!….
…Hey! Allan, You keep writing review(s) like this and believe me this will look like the beginning of a beautiful (writer/reader) friendship. haha!
Tks,
dcd
I wouldn’t expect anything less from Allan Fish on a celebrated film like this, but as I have it #7 on my list, and Allan has it #19, I guess we are not exactly in agreement, even if I have admittedly seen less films. But I bet I’ve seen all or mostly all of the ones that finished ahead of it.
If I gave the romantic in me full sway, I would have Casablanca as #1 on my list of not only 40s movies but of all time.
As Umberto Eco wrote:
“… Casablanca is not just one film. It is many films, an anthology. Made haphazardly, it probably made itself, if not actually against the will of its authors and actors, then at least beyond their control. And this is the reason it works, in spite of aesthetic theories and theories of film making. For in it there unfolds with almost telluric force the power of Narrative in its natural state, without Art intervening to discipline it. And so we can accept it when characters change mood, morality, and psychology from one moment to the next, when conspirators cough to interrupt the conversation if a spy is approaching, when whores weep at the sound of “La Marseillaise.” When all the archetypes burst in shamelessly, we reach Homeric depths. Two clichés make us laugh. A hundred clichés move us. For we sense dimly that the clichés are talking among themselves, and celebrating a reunion. Just as the height of pain may encounter sensual pleasure, and the height of perversion border on mystical energy, so too the height of banality allows us to catch a glimpse of the sublime. Something has spoken in place of the director. If nothing else, it is a phenomenon worthy of awe.”
………..I always think of the French national anthem and “As Tears Go By”……….
This is a great film, but for my money it’s not the best film of the 40′s. there are several I would rate higher. Exceptional review.
One thing that I like about Casablanca–watching Dooley Wilson’s hands when he’s playing piano. He just mashes generally on the keys. His singing is so good, it’s hard to notice.
Anyone who has ever discussed films with me knows how I feel abpout this film. It is my #1 for the Forties and will be either 1 or 2 on my all time list.
All I need to say about Allan’s review is, BRAVO.
Yes, Angelo, and it also formed my in flight entertainment on the flight back to Blighty.