Casablanca: A Film that Endures "As Time Goes By"

Perhaps one of the most enduring romantic-dramas of all time, "Casablanca" stands alone in its captivating portrayal of the grey regions of the classic love story theme. Moving away from the traditional telling of a love that endures all trials, "Casablanca" instead situates its viewers in a story in which the love at its core should never have been. Rick Blaine (Bogart) is the film's reluctant hero, a dark and mysterious nightclub owner who claims the nationality of "a drunkard" and lives by a simple credo: "I stick my neck out for nobody." Yet as surly as Blaine would like us to believe him to be, we soon see his stony exterior crack to reveal a more tender center which melts for just one woman: Ilsa Lund (Bergman). When Ilsa steps into Rick's club, she inadvertently rekindles the flame that left Rick little more than a heap of brooding ashes ... and brings with her a drama that may very well tip the balance of World War II. Ilsa is married to Victor Laszlo (Henreid), a Czech Resistance leader who escaped a Nazi concentration camp and has caused nothing but trouble for the Nazis ever since. The arrival of Ilsa and Laszlo, the hiding of two letters of transit smuggled to Rick by a criminal named Ugarte (Lorre), and a business relationship bordering on friendship with the corrupt Captain Louis Renault (Rains) all converge on Rick and his small nightclub, making Rick's Café-and Rick himself-the center, and veritable symbol, of the conflict between Germany and the rest of the world.

Before "Casablanca", Humphrey Bogart was known primarily for his roles as a thug. This film gave Bogart plenty of room to play the hard-edged scoundrel, yet with a bit of smoke, some mood music, and just the right amount of melodramatic close-ups and shadowed shots it also allowed the seasoned actor to transition beautifully into the role of a soft-hearted, albeit reluctant, romantic. He is helped along in this by Bergman, of whom Bogart once said, "If a face like Ingrid Bergman's looks at you as though you're adorable, everybody does. You don't have to act very much." In "Casablanca", Bergman manages to make the brooding Rick all the more relatable with a simple look; when she gazes at him with love, we believe he must truly be loveable.

In contrast to Paul Henreid's one-dimensional portrayal of Victor Laszlo-even Bergman can do little to make him seem warm as a husband or lover, despite efforts put into a scene in which we learn he risked his life to stay with her when she was sick-viewers are presented with a character who, by far, goes through the most bizarre yet pleasurable transformations: Captain Renault. Claude Rains, who would work with Bergman again later in Alfred Hitchcock's "Notorious", grants the elsewise despicable Renault an air of charm and lovability that manages to surprise with every viewing. Renault, after all, works under the domineering German Major Strasser, and alongside the Major in his efforts to keep Laszlo imprisoned in Casablanca. It is implied that he sells exit visas in exchange for sexual favors. In a particularly amusing scene, Renault shuts down Rick's Café under the pretense of being "shocked to find that gambling is going on here," shortly before being handed his own winnings. He is the epitome of moral grey; and yet, in the end, it is ultimately he who enables Laszlo and Ilsa to escape, beginning what Rick terms "the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

What makes "Casablanca" stand out among so many other tales of love and loss is the fact that none of the characters within it are, by the strictest of definitions, "good," with perhaps the exception of the stringently moral Victor Laszlo. Ilsa, though inadvertently, has engaged in an affair and left a man in ruins. Rick surrounds himself with thieves and murderers; viewers could observe him as a slightly less corrupt version of Captain Renault, who himself possesses a touch more charm than Rick ever could. The only morally righteous character, Laszlo, is so rigidly on the up-and-up that he borders on seeming unlikable; viewers may wonder, in the end, what would keep Ilsa with him, when she could have a man with a little thing called "personality." Yet here is where the film's other major accomplishment comes in to play. "Casablanca" effectively guides us into investing in a romance that perhaps should never have been yet we hope never dies ... and then convinces us that allowing that flicker of love to be snuffed out is not only the right thing to do but a satisfying ending. When Rick tells Ilsa, "You belong with Victor," we have no choice but to believe him-we know, like Ilsa, that to stay with Rick would be a mistake. As Bergman convinces us throughout the film with her eyes, Bogart, in the end, persuades us with his words, which have become some of the most enduring lines in cinematic history. We are forced to accept Rick's reassurance that "We'll always have Paris," and when he gently lifts Ilsa's chin and murmurs, "Here's looking at you, kid," we are allowed to believe that this, somehow, is a happy ending.

"Casablanca" may not be perfect in all regards. It comes with touches of melodrama: sharp musical shifts paired with dramatic close ups, paired with moments of what might have been subtle conflict between the Germans and everyone else in Casablanca. The classic battle between the Germans singing "Die Wacht am Rhein" and everyone else joining in a feverishly patriotich rendition of "La Marseillaise" manages to fall into melodrama when Yvonne-a French woman who gallivants with "the enemy"-is seen weeping and pounding her fist as she sings along, apparently renewing her love and loyalty with France. Yet the film's failings are far outweighed by its triumphs, the selfless sacrifices that keep our hearts warm with every viewing, and the knowledge that the enduring quality that has preserved the legacy of this great film will continue to endure "As Time Goes By".