Casablanca (1942)

Wow! Beautiful movie. First time watching. Humphrey Bogart, Ingrid Bergman. One day, I hope I can make something just as special. Sometimes people say of older movies that “the writing still holds up” or that “the acting is up there with the greatest performances,” but this movie’s subtle direction does a third thing. Allow me to coin it here…Direction that still hooks in…Eh? What do we think? DM me your opinion. (I spent five hours on it) Something about the energy of the camera movements, the simple suggestions of black and white costumes, and colors, shadows, close ups, as well as set pieces, foreshadowing, staging, interesting framing and lighting—it’s all very tight.

I actually don’t know what that means, but it felt tight: concise, smart, layered. It’s a beautiful romance that drew me in. Very powerful. Surprisingly funny. Dark and historically significant. I felt like I was watching something important from Art History. A real peak into a very tense and different time. Even the leitmotif (never thought I’d use it) of Sam’s song still feels relevant as it touches on feeling isolated by one’s confusion over new technology, violence, and the mysteries of this cruel world. “When all anyone ever wants is simple.” “Love and Valor” the song says. It’s very good, I put it on and danced to it in my apartment. Pretended I was closely dancing with my own Bergman. Very closely. And slowly. sigh

This movie is referenced in so many other things. It is a piece of actors’ homework I never started. I didn’t do any research besides IMDB trivia, which is not really reliable, but will make up all of the research for this ramble blog. IMDB trivia has users post trivia in their own words and from their own sources. The trivia mentioned this movie’s release was a concerted effort by Warners to draw up public support for WWII, very soon after Pearl Harbor. According to the trivia, Warner had publicly denounced the Nazi party, and his studio was the first to publicly speak out against them, as early as 1936. Grandchildren of the writers of the screenplay discovered, in writing their own book about this film, that many characters who represented Jewish refugees were explicitly not referred to as Jews. The studio did not want to paint the war as a war fought “for the Jews.” Again, that could be a misquote or something. To reiterate, this is a safe-rambling blog, not the Matt Ferro Experience blog. The trivia also mentioned, multiple times, that many of the extras/cast were not American and some actors had actually fled Nazi occupation. The actor playing the German Major in this movie, Conrad Veidt, is mentioned multiple times as having fled from persecution for being outspoken against the Nazis, as well as for having a Jewish wife. Another trivia entry says that around the time of this film’s release, FDR and Churchill met in Casablanca for a summit-type meeting, and that on FDR’s return, he asked for a screening of this film. Another entry stated apparently, that the only reason Germany did not attempt to interfere with this meeting was because they assumed Casablanca was code for The White House, and not actually in Morocco. (Trivia BS?)

I saw multiple entries that said Humphrey Bogart thought the movie was going to be bad. Apparently, Ingrid Bergman was reluctant to take the part because it could’ve interfered with her next project, her Hemingway film. Which is funny because she’s so emotionally vulnerable and expressive, so the idea that there’s any reluctance in her mind seems improbable. Maybe it’s not true, or maybe she’s that professional. The trivia continues, saying they shot some intimate romantic scenes first, but as the script was going through rewrites they didn’t have a clear sense of what kind of movie they were making. It was too romantic at the start, for either Bogart’s or Bergman’s comfort. Multiple entries state that Bergman asked, while already filming, who she was supposed to be in love with for real, and the director Michael Curtiz said, “Play it in between.” The ending was written so close to being filmed, that they didn’t know exactly how it was going to end. Another trivia: the writer for the romantic parts was Casey Robinson, who nobly refused credit because he didn’t write the whole screenplay. Then: he lost the chance to have an Oscar as this film won it for best writing, which was only awarded to the other writers who were credited. Daaaaammmnnn! Bro lost his chance for the Oscar.

This is a movie that seems like a very successful “producer-input” kind of movie. Today, it’s popular for directors doing critically acclaimed work to have a “singular vision” without “movie-by-committee” interference. And people like Wes Anderson, Tarantino, PTA and Fincher, who feel like relatives of Kubrick/Spielberg/Scorcese/Lucas/Ridley, carry this torch and continue this trend. Movies like Sinners, Brutalist, Anora, and directors like Nolan, Yorgos, Del Toro, etc. continue to do the same thing, which celebrates an artiste vibe to movies. I write this without knowing exactly what I’m talking about. But my point is, this movie just took me back to a different perspective on how showbiz worked. According to trivia, Bergman was lent out to Warner from her producer, David O. Selznick (who’s ‘O’ stood for nothing, btw. Fancy.) Actors were contracted under producers who chose, in negotiations, which actor to give to which studio and for what project. And for how much. So there was a lot of cooking from different cooks, in a big expensive kitchen, amiright? Bergman herself (trivia) required shots to be of her left side because she felt that was her better side. I wonder if any actors today do that? For Bergman, it almost seems unimportant because she’s so good. I wonder if she’d ask for that side to be filmed as a test, to see if she could trust the director and crew. Then, feeling safe, she allowed herself to be emotionally open. She really was so believable as this conflicted woman trying to stay alive during WWII. Nonetheless, all this mish-mash of egos, personal agendas, and large amounts of money did not hold this movie back from being so great. Knowing some of these details, it feels ambitious when you see how quickly it was produced.

Also, Bogart is awesome. Just so tough, but still vulnerable in his own way. He’s playing a real chess game with a friend through the mail in his introduction. Great shot on his introduction. Curtiz’s close-ups feel like iconic portraitures. It’s aesthetically beautiful. All so familiar and in the back of my brain, too. Part of my personal zeitgeist, my idea of what being American means. It’s nostalgia for a generation I’m nowhere close to. I have to do a deep dive on Bogart. He’s great in Sierra Madre, but thats the only other one I’ve seen. In this one, he has a line, “Are my eyes really brown?” It killed me its so classic-dry-sarcastic-anti-hero humor. He’s the prototype bad ass, it’s clear. I almost saw Harrison Ford in him, and I wonder if there’s a connection. He plays it with a real balance between conflicted heart and utter indifference that it’s just too good. The chemistry is amazing, too. Theres one entry that says Bogart’s wife was convinced they were having an affair, but that they really weren’t, and weren’t that close while filming. In a world where Euphoria (HBO in general) is close to “soft-core,” there was something satisfying about these two people close to kissing, but hardly doing so. Only speaking closely together without kissing. It was sexy. Very old fashioned. I saw this technique in the other movie for my next post. When these characters do kiss the pay-off is effective, because the moment of contact grounds the love affair in a suspenseful limited window of time, with only so many kisses possible. If they were boning from the jump, I’d be like “yawn, we get it, they bone.” But a drawn out first kiss pressurizes the relationship because it communicates fragile vulnerability in a love affair that can end at any moment.

Rolling Ferro