Movies we need: Casablanca
Here's sticking my neck out for you, kid.
Last weekend, for Valentine’s Day, my wife and I went to see Casablanca at our local repertory theater. It had been at least a decade since I’d seen the film, and I’d never seen it on the big screen. So taking it in with a packed audience, preceded by an organ performance and a Bugs Bunny cartoon, seemed like a good way to spend a date night.
I’m not going to write a review of Casablanca because, honestly, what can I say? It’s the coldest of cold takes to say that it’s a great movie, and better critics than I have already unpacked Michael Curtiz’s film, and raved over its performances and script. It’s a supremely entertaining film that balances intrigue, humor and romance with remarkable deftness. It’s why the line “you’ll laugh, you’ll cry…” was invented.
But I was surprised by the emotional kick of the film, not just as a romance but as a call to action and nobility. When Rick shot Strasser at the end of the movie (spoilers for an 82-year-old film), our audience erupted into applause. In an age where our politicians and government leaders are spouting racist, far-right rhetoric that isn’t that unfamiliar from that spewed in 1930s Germany, it was good to see that some people still appreciate sticking it to the Nazis.
It feels weird to say that I’m proud our audience cheered when the film’s hero shot a villain; I don’t want to be seen as celebrating violence. But, of course, in the movies, it’s symbolic of something deeper. It’s not just that Rick kills a bad guy. It’s that, in that moment, he’s committing to something beyond himself. It’s not just enough that he’s let the love of his life fly away; he’s also upended his own safety and walks away ready to join the fight. Casablanca is (rightfully) remembered as one of the great love stories; I think it works even better as a celebration of decency.
Rick’s journey is one of the great redemption arcs. When we meet him in Casablanca, he’s more than happy to stay out of the conflict between the Nazi officials and the refugees seeking passage to America. He doesn’t take sides; he won’t even sit and chat with his customers. He knows travelers are seeking illicit options to buy passage in his bar, and he allows it so long as they don’t involve him. Likewise, when he’s informed the Nazis will be making a major arrest at his cafe, he doesn’t dissuade them from pulling up a chair. Like many great movie scoundrels, he doesn’t take a side except for his own.
Of course, the reason he’s so cynical and isolated is that he’s nursing a broken heart. He was different once, when he was an American expat living in France and fell in love with Ilsa Lund, who ditched him at the train station years back without an explanation. His world is rocked when Ilsa enters his cafe – “out of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world” – alongside resistance leader Victor Lazlo, who is seeking to get to America and avoid being handed over to the Nazis. Rick has letters that could grant them safe passage; he also knows if he helps them, it would mean taking a side – and he’s initially not so inclined to help the woman who crushed his soul.
Casablanca is one of the most memorable movies ever made, and its finale possibly the most beloved in cinema history, so you likely know how this turns out. Rick helps Ilsa and Victor get on the plane and out of Morocco. He kills the Nazi leader before he can call in a request to ground the plane. The local cop agrees to “round up the usual suspects” for a sham investigation, and he and Rick walk off, presumably to join the resistance.
I’d remembered that ending in the years between viewings. But I recalled it simply as love reawakening Rick’s sense of moral decency. But Rick’s journey from being a man whose motto is “I stick my neck out for nobody” to someone willing to blow up his own life for the greater good is more interesting than that, and involves Rick being able to focus on someone and something beyond himself.
The film’s most famous line – uttered four times – is, of course, “Here’s looking at you, kid.” Again, it’s possibly the most famous line in movie history (it was #5 on AFI’s list of 100 best movie quotes), delivered by Rick to Ilsa during the course of their Parisian romance. It’s Rick’s declaration that someone has captured his attention and affections. And while it works as one of the great love story lines of all time, I think it’s also the key to Rick’s transformation. He reawakens his noble side by viewing courage, love and decency in action. He changes because he’s looking at something outside of himself.
There are at least three moments when Rick views things that soften him bit by bit. The first is when a young Hungarian woman comes to Rick asking if she can trust Louis, the local cop. She and her husband are seeking a way out of Casablanca and they don’t have money for the papers; it’s implied that Louis is willing to help her out in return for sexual favors. Rick, seeing just how much this woman is willing to sacrifice for the man she loves, rigs one of his backroom casino games so that she can get the money to secure the papers without sacrificing her marriage.
The second time is when Nazi officers sing a German anthem in the cafe, as the patrons look on, offended by the sounds of these men who have overtaken their home country. Lazlo, in an act of defiance, asks Sam the piano player to play “La Marseillaise,” and the patrons sing along. Rick doesn’t shut Sam down – even though we’ve seen that he has no problem doing that, as proven when he hears “As Time Goes By” early on. He allows Sam to keep playing and the voices drown out the German soldiers, even if that act of rebellion means an early closure to the cafe.
The third, of course, is when he views the love between Isla and Victor. She visits Rick and reveals that the reason she left him at the train station was because Victor is her husband; she believed he died in a concentration camp, but when she learned he was alive, she left to take care of him. She tells Rick she’s still in love with him and that they can be together if Lazlo can get on the flight to America. Later, Lazlo visits with Rick and implores him to use the letters of passage to get Ilsa to safety.
Rick has two opportunities to live a life with his lost love. He could use the letters to leave Morocco with Ilsa or he could let Lazlo get on the plane, leaving him in Casablanca with the woman he loves. He has the ability to get Lazlo to America and keep the girl. But those conversations reveal that Ilsa is still in love with Victor. And Rick understands that Victor is willing to compromise his own safety to keep his wife safe. But Rick also knows that Victor won’t be able to do his resistance work without Isla by his side. And so, believing that “the lives of three people don’t amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world” (every single line is a classic), Rick gets them both on the plane and stays back to clean up the mess. He kills the Nazis. It’s implied he joins the resistance. Why? Because he’s been moved by people’s love of something beyond themselves – an ideal, a country, a lover, hope of something better. He sticks his neck out because there’s something beautiful about doing the right thing.
We live in unsettling and dangerous times. It’s very easy and tempting to say we won’t get involved, speak out or resist. It causes conflict between us and our friends and family. It might put us in the crosshairs of people who could do us harm. It’s inconvenient and requires sacrifice. Hell, just this morning my wife emailed me about companies we should no longer buy from because they’ve supported the Trump administration, and my first response was to hem and haw because some of these are companies we patronize every day.
But action devoted to a higher, nobler cause is a beautiful thing. Decency is something to be celebrated. And maybe to get my own butt off the couch and get involved, I need to stop my navel-gazing and let my grasp on my wallet loosen. To do that requires a heart change. I have to believe that decency and nobility are beautiful. I do that by looking at the people who are sacrificing time, comfort and career to fight the good fight. I need to see the organizations making change, loving others and fighting for something bigger than themselves. I need stories that show us the power of self-sacrifice, love, resilience and decency.
I need movies like Casablanca.