Ingrid Bergman Tribute: Casablanca

Director Michael Curtiz

Curtiz with Ingrid Bergman

Bogart and Bergman 

CASABLANCA                    A                                                                                                    USA  (102 mi)  1942  d: Michael Curtiz

You must remember this
A kiss is still a kiss
A sigh is just a sigh
The fundamental things apply
As time goes by.

—As Time Goes By, written by Herman Hupfield, 1931

Any list of the most beloved films etched into American culture must incude this one, along with Frank Capra’s IT’S A WONDERFUL LIFE (1946) and Victor Fleming’s THE WIZARD OF OZ (1939), all made before, during, or in the immediate aftermath of WWII, the epitome of the Golden Age of Hollywood, becoming synonymous with the best of who and what we are, as they all represent a piece of the American experience, where viewing these films during different stages of our lives is never less than memorable.  Listed at #3 on the American Film Institute’s list of greatest American films of all time, AFI'S 100 YEARS…100 MOVIES — 10TH ANNIVERSARY ..., and while it had an A-list of actors, it didn’t have a huge budget and was rushed out to coincide with the allied invasion of North Africa, released just eighteen days after the General Dwight D. Eisenhower-led Allied forces landed in Morocco and liberated Algiers, Oran, and Casablanca.  Arguably the most beloved Academy Award Best Picture winner ever, nominated for eight Academy Awards, winning three for Best Picture, Best Director (Michael Curtiz), and Best Screenplay (brothers Julius J. Epstein and Philip G. Epstein, and Howard Koch), the film may be most remembered for the romantic pairing of Humphrey Bogart with Ingrid Bergman, who was borrowed from David O. Selznick’s Paramount studio.  With this film, Bogart, better known for playing tough-guy gangster roles or playing a hardened detective, made the transition to becoming a romantic hero in every movie afterwards, while Ingrid Bergman was barely known in America until this film, which remains her best-known role, with both quickly becoming the darlings of the silver screen, the picture of bravery and moral conviction, showing how to fight through adversity.  The war was on, after all, and people were struggling in all facets of their lives, with this couple blazing a trail for how to survive with your freedom and dignity intact, where you can still stand for something even during the worst of times when all appears lost.  CASABLANCA is the ultimate war melodrama, a movie about political resistance, where the ongoing war is the backdrop to the film, making effective use of current historical events, transformed into a North African setting in French Morocco, where it’s important to remember that this was a film that took a heroic stand in the middle of a war, where the outcome was by no means certain, which may explain why the film resonates on so many levels, but the quotable dialogue may be the crown jewel, one of the most quoted movies of all time, where so much of it remains etched into the American consciousness, memorable enough that viewers still have much of it memorized.  Jukeboxes even incorporated the dialogue spoken over the equally memorable songs, none greater than pianist Dooley Wilson as Sam singing “As Time Goes By,” Dooley Wilson - As Time Goes By (HD) "Play it, Sam. Play As ... YouTube (1:29), voted the second best song in American film history in AFI's 100 YEARS…100 SONGS, trailing only Judy Garland’s version of “Over the Rainbow” from THE WIZARD OF OZ.  Of interest, Dooley couldn’t even play the piano, as he was a professional singing drummer, where the music, originally written for the 1931 Broadway musical comedy Everybody's Welcome, was dubbed into the scenes.  And that’s just one of the extraordinary aspects of the film, as this was Hollywood after all, makers of dreams and artificial realities.  While it's not a flawless film, with mostly one-dimensional secondary characters, some ludicrous rear projection shots in a flashback montage, while second unit director Don Siegel, the director of Clint Eastwood in DIRTY HARRY (1971), filmed the opening newsreel-style montage, yet the flaws are easily overlooked by the power of the performances and the wonderful way this film is stitched together, where it’s hard not to be lulled into the sentimental allure that includes Max Steiner’s superb musical score, as something tugs at your heartstrings throughout, drawing us into this exotic studio creation, transporting us back to a simpler life before the war tarnished everything. 

Legendary film critic Pauline Kael dismissed the film as “schlocky romanticism,” while director Billy Wilder described it as “wonderful claptrap,” and like hundreds of other Hollywood studio films churned out at this time, this is a propaganda film that reinforced the nation’s support for the Allied war effort, screened by President Roosevelt in the White House, coming at a time when most Americans still preferred to remain isolationist and neutral, even after the bombing of Pearl Harbor, yet no other film captured the American psyche as well as CASABLANCA, a movie that literally lives with us and becomes part of our lives, with the iconic figure of Humphrey Bogart standing at the center of the film’s popularity, featuring some of cinema’s most romantic scenes with Ingrid Bergman, while the secondary characters, nearly entirely drawn from an international cast, have become embedded in popular culture.  Actress Emma Stone’s character in Damien Chazelle’s film 2016 Top Ten List #10 La La Land is obsessed with the film, working in a Warner Bros. backlot coffee shop in Burbank opposite the CASABLANCA set, while sleeping underneath a giant poster of Ingrid Bergman in her bedroom, while opposite her Ryan Gosling’s Sebastian character opens his own jazz club named Seb’s, inspired by Bogart’s bar Rick’s, right down to the neon-lit signage.  Michael Curtiz was not the original choice of director, as that would be William Wyler, but he was busy with other projects, while Hedy Lamarr was the producer’s preference over Ingrid Bergman, and Bogart, curiously enough, was also not the original choice according to a Warner Bros. press release in 1942, claiming it was Ronald Reagan, but that was only a publicity stunt trying to build publicity for another one of the studio’s films starring Reagan, KING’S ROW (1942).  Adapted from Murray Burnett and Joan Allison’s unproduced play, Everybody Comes to Rick’s, a stage play allegedly inspired by Burnett’s trip across Europe in 1938, where he and his wife were surprised by the vehemence of the anti-Semitism in Austria after its 1938 annexation by Nazi Germany, a period characterized by the immediate implementation of Nazi racial laws, the violent persecution and forced emigration of its Jewish population, and the systematic destruction of Jewish property, while a visit to a nightclub in southern France, La Belle Aurore, transformed into the idea of Bogart’s character, the owner of Rick’s Café Américain, a nightclub that was the place to be in Casablanca.  While there are noirish elements to the film, including a cynical, existentialist anti-hero in a trench coat, a dangerous and corrupt environment, snappy dialogue, and the prominent use of low-key lighting, this would never be described as a film noir, largely due to the patriotic and propagandistic messages as well as an optimistic and upbeat ending.  Filmed during the war while history is still being shaped, a time when the Nazi’s are invading Europe, and the Europeans want to get out of their path as quickly as possible, where many in the cast were themselves refugees, it’s important to note that from 1939 to June 1942, nearly 20 million people moved from one part of Europe to safer terrain.  A native Hungarian, Curtiz, who himself was in the process of smuggling family members out of Hungary, was known for making concise films, with no wasted footage, where his lightning-fast pacing was the fastest on the studio lot, having a penchant for German Expressionistic lighting and using dark areas of shadows to create atmosphere, while also using high crane shots and unusual camera angles.  If this film has anything, it is drenched in stylish atmosphere, which may explain why it has passed the test of time, yet actress Ingrid Bergman initially found the plot confusing, thinking the film would do nothing for her career, believing the part wasn’t very demanding, yet Bogart, who would play opposite her, was on the verge of becoming a big star, and the studio insisted she would be dressed immaculately, while the extra dimension she provides is her luminous onscreen vulnerability, where she never looked more beautiful, luminously shot in soft focus for close-ups, making her appearance around the 30-minute mark, instantly turning her into a major international star.    

Rick Blaine (Humphrey Bogart) is introduced as the owner of a bustling nightclub and gambling den operating in the German-occupied territory of Casablanca, defined by a seedy underworld and questionable morals, a place where espionage, war, and love exist simultaneously, where there’s a huge bottleneck for transits trying to get out of the country, stuck in limbo, waiting interminably in a desperate hope to escape the Nazis and reach neutral territory in Portugal.  Almost immediately we hear Rick is a cynical man who borders on selfishness, whose motto seems to be “I stick my neck out for nobody,” an American ex-pat with a mysterious, checkered past, like a man without a country who can never go home again, escaping to an exotic locale to reclaim a lost identity, yet it’s his cool demeanor that stands out, looking smart in a white dinner jacket, professing to be independently neutral in all matters, though we learn he ran guns for Ethiopia in 1935 and fought for the anti-fascist Republican side of the Spanish Civil War.  Newspaper reports two German couriers were murdered while carrying letters of transit, allowing the bearers free passage out of the country, documents that would be worth plenty of money, as everything in Casablanca is for sale, with Heinrich Strasser (Conrad Veidt), a German major, sent to Casablanca to investigate the killing of the two couriers.  Emblematic of that dark underside, Ugarte (Peter Lorre) hands off the letters to Rick for safe keeping, knowing the Germans will want him for questioning, Casablanca (1942) -- (Movie Clip) Letters Of Transit YouTube (3:51), while Signor Ferrari (Sydney Greenstreet), an underground figure, has cornered the black market, which he runs out of his Blue Parrot Café.  But Rick’s best friend and charming partner in crime is none other than Captain Louis Renault (Claude Rains in his most iconic role, where there’s even a tribute song written about him from a New Zealand musical duo, The Front Lawn - Claude Rains), the equally cynical yet thoroughly corrupt French Prefect of Police under the Vichy government, as they seem to have a secret code of understanding, where the beauty is as much about what’s left unsaid as what’s spoken aloud, much of which is pure poetry.  Rains is given some of the best lines, a wry observer of the absurdities of the time, always the opportunist, making the best of a tragic situation.  As he rounds up “all the usual suspects,” a show of force largely to impress the Germans, he’s also the one to arrest Ugarte, who is shot trying to escape, leaving the question of the undiscovered letters of transit a big mystery.  Then, in perhaps the biggest mystery of all, Rick’s former Norwegian lover Ilsa Lund (Ingrid Bergman), enters the establishment accompanied by her husband Victor Laszlo (the uncharismatic yet super dignified Paul Henried), a renowned fugitive Czechoslovak Resistance leader.  When she asks a reluctant Sam to play “As Time Goes By,” it finally brings the two protagonists together in a moment of stunned surprise, where the two obviously have a history together that remains embedded in the unspoken drama.  While we learn Laszlo has broken out of a German concentration camp, his legendary reputation as a freedom fighter is well known and respected, making him an emphatically appealing character, providing much of the moral heft of the picture, as he’s a stark contrast to the Nazis.  Later that night Rick drinks his sorrows away, absolutely certain Ilsa will show up, eloquently summoning up what’s eating at him, “Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine,” which leads to a brilliant flashback sequence, Casablanca 4K Ultra HD - "All the gin joints in all the towns in ... YouTube (4:05).  When Ilsa does finally visit Rick later that night, we learn she is the biggest reason for his deep cynicism, having inexplicably disappeared from Rick’s life in Paris on the eve of the German occupation, leaving him emotionally devastated afterwards, having never forgotten or forgiven her, drowning himself in liquor and self-loathing, Casablanca (3/6) Movie CLIP - I Don't Know the Finish (1942 ... YouTube (2:42).

The letters of transit everyone needs to get out of Casablanca are a kind of Hitchcockian MacGuffin, as in real life they never actually existed.  Yet everybody wants them, but nobody knows quite what they are, only that they are highly desirable.  No one is troubled by their irrational nature.  This is part of the cinematic magic that has drawn audiences into the film’s unreal ambience since 1942.  A perfect example is how easily the black market uses and exploits people, literally spitting them out on a daily basis, like a merry-go-round of refugees, as the entire story revolves around these letters, allowing anyone to escape from the hell of Nazi occupation, like a fictitious open door to freedom, leaving desperate people in a permanent state of anxiety and unease trying to get them, Casablanca (1942) -- (Movie Clip) You're A Fat Hypocrite YouTube (3:31), yet the underlying message is being oppressed against one’s will, which is always the flipside of war, where there are winners and losers, because in the real world, the good guys don’t always come out on top.  Imagine, for instance, if the losers actually won the war, and what a substantially different world this would be.  Both Laszlo and Ilsa want to get their hands on these letters of transit, believing it’s their only way out, yet going through Rick seems to be the only way, suspecting he knows where they are, making him a unique person of interest, elevating his level of importance in this story, where no one knows how it will end.  Will Rick or Laszlo get the girl?  That’s the open question in this love triangle, where even the writers were unsure, which kept the actors in the dark as well, especially Bergman who was openly frustrated and confused over the fact that no one would tell her who she was really supposed to be in love with.  That’s all part of the fun of this film, as it could have any number of multiple endings.  The film quickly pivots from Rick’s self-absorbed self-pity to rousing patriotism, where the patrons of Rick’s establishment are forced to hear Nazi officers sing their rendition of Die Wacht am Rhein, only to be countered by Laszlo, joined by Corinna Mura, the uncredited café singer and guitar player, and Madeleine Lebeau as Yvonne, a real-life 19-year old French refugee, who can be seen with tears in her eyes as they all collectively sing a spirited rendition of the French national anthem, La Marseillaise (still the greatest national anthem ever written), that drowns out the Nazis, an emphatic punctuation of the film’s moral high ground, Victor Laszlo Gets a Crowd To Sing "La Marseillaise" (Clip ... YouTube (3:02), shifting the film into a morality play with a fierce antifascist message.  As if to emphasize that intoxicating allure of freedom, Ilsa reveals just how desparate they are to get out of Casablanca, and begs Rick for the letters, adding love and romance to the mysterious ingredients of the story, all fueled by the radiant presence of Ingrid Bergman, who could make you believe just about anything, Casablanca (4/6) Movie CLIP - I Still Love You (1942) HD YouTube (2:36).  One of the best things though about Rick's character is that as the film progresses, we watch him do his best to overcome the cynical side of his personality, and actually help others when they need it.  As if on cue, Rick agrees to help Laszlo escape to Lisbon, gaining Captain Renault’s cooperation by telling him that he and Ilsa plan to leave, and promising Laszlo’s arrest at the airport.  Suspecting Laszlo, not Rick, will board the plane at the last moment, Renault phones Strasser, who rushes to the airport.  It all comes to a maddening conclusion, with a melodramatic whirlwind rush of sentiment that envelops the screen like the low-lying fog, with the director never informing Bergman who she would leave with until the day of the shooting, as Strasser is shot and killed by Rick when he attempts to stop the flight, and Ilsa and Victor escape together, with Rick sacrificing love for a higher purpose.  When the police arrive, rather than point out the man responsible, Renault tells them to “round up the usual suspects,” which leads to a fitting epitaph, with Rick eloquently remarking “Louis, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship,” Humphrey Bogart Parts Ways With Ingrid Bergman ... YouTube (6:33).  The film made both Bogart and Bergman into living legends afterwards, with CASABLANCA added to the Library of Congress National Film Registry in 1989, one of the first 25 films added in the Registry’s inaugural year.

Carrotblanca (1995) Looney Tunes take on Casablanca, YouTube (8:59)

Out of the Past

Robert Mitchum

Jane Greer

Mitchum and Greer with director Jacques Tourneur (right)

Mitchum and Greer with director Jacques Tourneur and cameraman Nicholas Musuraca (right)

OUT OF THE PAST               A                    

USA  (97 mi)  1947  d:  Jacques Tourneur

I never saw her in the daytime. We seemed to live by night. What was left of the day went away like a pack of cigarettes you smoked. I didn't know where she lived. I never followed her. All I ever had to go on was a place and time to see her again. I don't know what we were waiting for. Maybe we thought the world would end.                           

—Jeff Bailey (Robert Mitchum)

You're no good, and neither am I. That's why we deserve each other.            

—Kathie Moffat (Jane Greer)

Considered the quintessential noir film, this is without question one of the best film noirs, one of the best films of the 1940’s, and one of the best films ever made, as the film, which was viewed as a B-movie when it was released, is a standout in every artistic category.  Only Robert Mitchum’s first starring role, and Kirk Douglas’s 2^nd film in a supporting role, Mitchum as Jeff Bailey commands the screen with a rare confidence and defines the standard for the role of masculinity in a noir film, as he’s strong, broad-shouldered, handsome, and smart while retaining that casual air of indifference and nonchalance, as if he’s his own man who can’t be bought or sold, yet when faced off against Jane Greer’s Kathie Moffat, the smoldering femme fatale beauty of every man’s dreams, the moment he sees her striding confidently out of the sunlight into the darkened shadows of a Mexican cantina he melts like butter in her hands and is willing to do anything to have her, even though he knows it will likely destroy him.  This is before they’ve ever spoken a single word, where one look says it all.  This kind of onscreen chemistry and display of raw sensuality is exactly why cinema was invented, and in this film it delivers in every respect, as it’s also one of the more eye-poppingly luminous black and white films ever made.  But it’s the dramatic power of these two performances that makes this film so unforgettable, as other than CASABLANCA (1942), another so-called B-movie released during the war, rarely are audiences treated to this kind of searing intensity between characters, made especially intriguing by the noirish lure driving them both into the seedy underworld of lies, deception, murder and criminality, a place both seem to relish so long as they can have each other.  Only one problem, however, as Moffat is actually the girlfriend of Whit Sterling (Douglas), a mafia-style lowlife gangster who sends Bailey to Mexico to find her and bring her back, a ruthless and unforgiving man who takes exception to another man stealing his girl who also absconded with $40,000 dollars that belongs to him, adding a decisively fatal element to their budding romance, where their future is perpetually cast under a dark cloud of uncertainty.    

Nicholas Musuraca, who also shot Tourneur’s atmospheric CAT PEOPLE (1942) from the Val Lewton school of horror, was the cinematographer on the film, constantly finding inventive ways to offset shadows and light, using this not only to establish a dark mood or motive, but even as a device to develop character, as Mitchum often finds himself hiding in another room, behind a potted plant, even in a closet, or just lurking in the shadows, spending a great deal of time in the dark, continually lost in his thoughts, thinking about one of the most beautiful women to ever grace the screen, especially her gorgeous eyes, yet she’s also smart, deceitful, conniving and completely untrustworthy.  Mitchum’s ongoing inner monologue is full of wisecracks and clever personal observations, as much of the film is told in flashbacks, where the scintillating dialogue mixed with his narration leads us through a myriad of strange and eventful occurrences where clever people continually try to get the upper hand and outsmart others who seem to know someone is on to them, playing a cat and mouse game of showing only the tip of the iceberg while carefully concealing what matters in a safe place, only there aren’t any safe places left in the world that can’t be found out, and in this film, sharks are lurking everywhere.  Set in New York City, Acapulco, Los Angeles, San Francisco, Lake Tahoe, and the Sierra Nevada Mountains, this panoramic view of the world offers the film a sense of vibrancy, especially the scenes in Mexico which throb with a sense of urgency.  Mexico has never seemed more romantically alluring, where the beach and nightlife are the thing of dreams, where getting caught in a rainstorm feels like the most beautifully inspiring moment in your life, and then it all evaporates, spiraling into a cesspool of mistrust, double crosses and murder, where bribery and blackmail almost seem like benign crimes.  There’s an interesting use of a deaf and dumb character, Dickie Moore as the Kid, Jeff’s partner in his respectable life of just trying to make a living, a clever kid who’s sucked into this maelstrom of complicity when the unrelenting damage of the past coincides with the present, where his all observing eyes reveal the heartbreak of innocence lost. 

Opening with the pristine beauty of nature, showing a quiet world in perfect harmony before it becomes infected with the corruption that people bring to it.  Even rumor and gossip are spread in a local diner with the assurance of a news report, no one doubting the evidence or lack thereof, as these are the laws of human beings who carry with them a need to share and bond with their fellow humans, even at the expense of the truth or those whose lives might be shattered or hurt by this kind of thoughtlessness.  As if in response to this kind of scatterbrained gossip mill, Jeff is a mysterious guy who doesn’t talk much about his past, who runs a service station with the Kid, but prefers to go fishing every day with Ann (Virginia Huston), who has the kind of role Eva Marie Saint would later discover in On the Waterfront (1954) or Julie Harris in EAST OF EDEN (1955), morally upright women who have a saintly quality of forgiveness about them, not only because they take a special interest in and have rare insight into the damaged souls of men, but where they are not afraid to jump without a net, wagering all on the kind of flaws and imperfections in men that others stay clear of.  When someone arrives from out of Jeff’s past, the present and the past intersect, where he’s much the wiser now, but the people dragging him back into the sinkhole of their morally bankrupt world keep getting better at it as well, so even when he thinks he’s being careful, he can never be cautious enough.  What’s so remarkable about Mitchum is how he’s such a straight shooter and throws caution to the wind, fearing no one, but he can’t predict the desperate measures and outrageous means humans use to protect themselves, which includes murder.  Of course, as is typical in noir films, Mitchum is being framed for crimes he never committed.  In that regard, Mitchum expresses just the right touch of down-to-earth cynicism, as he knows he’s being used as a sap and it makes him sick to his stomach, expressing a kind of world weariness that we might equate with wisdom.  Still it never feels like it’s enough, as the uncaring, unforgiving world expressed by the disturbingly dark fate of Douglas always appears to have the last word.  

 

The way Mitchum and Greer grow intertwined in sin is quite stunning, as the initial pangs of love are replaced by panic and moments of desperation, where unconditional surrender turns to a mutual distrust, but still they reach out for one another on occasion, even when they know they are getting double crossed.  It’s Mitchum whose feelings turn to disgust, more at himself than anyone else, because he can’t stop himself, or her, from being used in other people’s dirty little schemes, from continually falling into the muck and mire of criminal enterprise.  Rhonda Fleming has an interesting role as an on-the-take ice princess working for Whit, tough as nails, and even more unscrupulous, but her brief screen time is riveting.  These women are as dark and amoral as the criminal mind of any man, as outright greedy, and certainly as liable to sell out or double cross their best friends.  It is in the company of this band of thieves that Mitchum must find his way out, imprisoned in a labyrinth of unending deceit, clawing his way back to a clean conscience and that majestic and untarnished fishing hole shown at the beginning of the film, an oasis of innocence and purity that is itself eventually stained with human blood.  Adapted from the Geoffrey Homes novel Build My Gallows High, a pseudonym used by the screenwriter Daniel Mainwaring who would later write The Phenix City Story (1955), the screenplay, with an assist from Frank Fenton in getting the superb dialogue right, is pitch perfect in its tone of realism and reserve and never for a moment lags.  Tourneur’s exquisite behind-the-scenes choreography blending all the elements together puts this under consideration for the greatest noir movie ever filmed, as it’s well-written, artfully staged, beautifully acted and shot, and deliciously malevolent when it needs to be, never once compromising its principles.  This film stands in the rare air of the best of the Hitchcock films, many of which would come afterwards in the 1950’s, but the blend of intelligence and suspense in this hard-boiled murder mystery, along with iconic performances, the likes of which we never see anymore, puts this in the pantheon of best films ever.