Although it had an official
premier at the Hollywood Theatre back on November 27, 1942 to make
it eligible for the 1943 Academy Awards, Casablanca
went into general release 79 years ago today on January 24.
That coincided with the last day of the Casablanca
Conference with President Franklin D. Roosevelt and British Prime
Minister Winston Churchill which mapped out the general strategy for
the Western Front in Europe and was a little more than two months
since the city was liberated by the British in Operation Torch.
Both events made the title instantly significant to war-time
movie goers.
Although Casablanca misses
the top ranks of most lists of the “greatest” films of
all time, it never fails to score at or near the top of
lists of favorites. Never intended to be great art,
it none the less is the epitome of how the crass movie-by-committee
method of the Golden Age of the American studio system could
often achieve it despite of itself.
Now a revered classic, the production
was troubled and chaotic, and the film was only moderately
successful in its first run. But it swept the 1943 Oscars
with eight nominations and three wins including Best
Picture, Michael Curtiz for Best Director, and Best
Screenplay for Julius J. Epstein, Philip G. Epstein, and Howard
Koch. Humphrey Bogart was nominated for his first romantic
lead as the jaded café owner Rick and Claude Raines
got a nod as Best Supporting Actor for his role as the Vichy French policeman Captain Louis Renault. Somehow the luminous Ingrid
Bergman was denied a nomination as Ilsa. From then on,
its reputation has only continued to grow.
Warner Bros. producer Hal Wallis bought
Everybody Comes to Rick’s by Murray Burnett and Joan
Alison, in January 1942 for $20,000, then a Hollywood record for an unproduced
play. He assigned the script to the twin Epstein
brothers who made major changes in the story and characters.
Veteran writer Koch was brought in later. In addition, several other
un-credited writers contributed to the script including re-writes by Casey
Robinson. The script was in continuous revision throughout
shooting. Bergman later said she never knew who Ilsa would pick
in the love triangle until handed a shooting script on the set
of the final scene. The films memorable final line “Louis, I think
this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship,” was added weeks after principal
shooting was completed.
Curtiz, a Hungarian
Jew who had relatives still trapped in Hitler’s Europe, was
tapped as director only after the first choice, Warner’s ace William Wyler,
was unavailable.
Several actors were considered for the roll of Rick. Ronald Reagan was mentioned in early press stories on the film, but this was mostly just to keep his name in the papers. Warner Bros. knew that he would enter the service before shooting began. Bogart was a long-standing member of the Warner stock company best known for his tough guy and gangster rolls often in support of top studio stars James Cagney, Edward G. Robinson, and George Raft. But the Maltese Falcon and High Sierra had recently moved him up to the top ranks of studio assets. With some trepidation he was cast in the unconventional romantic lead.
Likewise, Ann
Sheridan—who would have played the female lead as an American as
envisioned in the original play—and European beauties Hedy
Lamarr and Michèle Morgan were considered before Swedish born
Ingrid Bergman was cast as Ilsa. Austrian actor Paul Henreid
fresh off a triumph as a suave leading man to Bette Davis in
Now, Voyager, was cast as the noble Eastern European resistance
hero Victor Laszlo, Ilsa’s husband. Just as he feared, the stiff
Laszlo typecast him and prevented him from becoming a major leading
man. The large cast also included Warner standbys Raines; Conrad
Veidt, an anti-Nazi German who made a Hollywood career of
playing Third Reich villains; and Sydney Greenstreet and Peter
Lorre, both of whom had appeared with Bogart in The Maltese Falcon.
Max Steiner scored the film, but its most memorable
musical moments were provided by Rick’s piano playing pal Sam,
played by Dooley Wilson, and by the stirring singing Les
Marseilles at a critical moment. Wilson made
an instant classic of As Time Goes By, a ballad of middling
popularity by Herman Hupfeld that had been floating around since
1931.
The melodramatic
plot focused on a ridiculous MacGuffin. Letters of Transit
were blank documents signed by a Vichy general that supposedly
would allow the bearer to travel freely and were the magic
documents needed by the refugees crowding Rick’s Café
Américain in the French Moroccan city of Casablanca to get to
neutral Portugal and from there perhaps to the safety of Britain
or the U.S. Two of these letters fall into the hands of
proprietor Rick Blaine, a cynical American expatriate with a shady
past just as his former lover, Ilsa, arrives with her husband
Victor. In flashback we learn of a near idyllic romance
between Rick and Ilsa in Paris which ends when she disappears as German
troops occupy the city. She had never told him of her marriage
or left any message as to why she did not meet him at the train
station as planned to escape the city with him.
The rest of the
film revolves around the search by Captain Renault, at the instance
of the Nazi officer Major Stasser, for the valuable stolen
letters of transit, and with the moral dilemmas of Rick and Ilsa.
In the end the French cop, the crusty American whose “shady past” turns out
have been running guns to Ethiopia to be used against the invading
Italians and fighting on the Republican side in the Spanish
Civil War, and the wife torn between two loves each makes
a sacrifice for the greater good.
Rick explained
it to Ilsa in the fog at the airport:
Inside of us, we both know you belong with Victor. You’re part
of his work, the thing that keeps him going. If that plane leaves the ground
and you’re not with him, you’ll regret it. Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow,
but soon and for the rest of your life… I’ve got a job to do, too. Where I’m
going, you can’t follow. What I’ve got to do, you can’t be any part of. Ilsa,
I’m no good at being noble, but it doesn’t take much to see that the problems
of three little people don’t amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world.
Someday you’ll understand that.”
Many years later writer Julius
Epstein would say that the script contained, “more corn than in the states of Kansas
and Iowa combined. But when corn works, there’s nothing better.” It certainly worked in Casablanca!
I was busy being born when Casablanca opened to the general public!
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