Last night I watched Casablanca for the first time. I had always heard that it was good, one of the best movies of all time even. But I assumed it was good in that way that all old movies are: they make women cry; the men are charming and wear fedoras; there is a noble cause to fight for (usually involving the Germans or Communism); and the black and white makes everyone look attractive. When I watch these movies, I feel nostalgia tugging at my heart. But, afterwards I am glad to live in an era where calling women the "the gentler sex" is not acceptable, modern-day bras don't make their breasts look like something off a Madonna album; not all men smoke cigars; and the Nazis aren't occupying France.
Casablanca is a good movie for all the reasons I've mentioned above, but without the afterthoughts. If I had the choice, I would spend the rest of my days with my face tucked beneath Humphrey Bogart's chin, riding in a convertible through Paris. I'd live in the time where "the problems of three people don't amount to a hill of beans." I'd even stand up and sing the French national anthem in Rick's Cafe Americain if I knew the words.
I'm sure that I am not the first person to say this, but it's worth saying again. Casablanca is one of the best movies I have ever seen because it uses love as an allegory for war. Rick's statement that he "sticks his neck out for no one" mirrors American nuetrality. When we learn of his past with Ilsa, we see that Rick's indifference was the result of losing what it was that had to fight for. Ilsa's return restores him and forces him to combat the Germans and save the hero.
I suppose that you could say that Rick is a self-interested isolationist and Ilsa is his Pearl Harbor. But you said that, not me. Is that the difference between a realist and romanticist?
Casablanca need not inspire a false (or true) sense of American pride to be an excellent movie. To me, it only needs to demonstrate that apathy leads one nowhere and that love and war need eachother.
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
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