The cause must go on
Occasionally I need a movie “fix,” falling back on old favorites like “The Quiet Man” starring John Wayne and Maureen O’Hara, Peter O’Toole in “Lawrence of Arabia,” or on a quiet, rainy night like this Saturday evening, it will be “Casablanca,” a romantic drama with Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman. Mood dictates what will be played for my viewing pleasure and tonight I yearn for cinema drama played out in exotic North Africa.
After spending long hours during the week digesting messages concerning the Armenian Cause, the standing of the genocide resolution, and Turkish threats of reprisal against governments acknowledging it, I need a respite to be refreshed for the important barrage of mail sure to continue constituting a daily ritual.
Released in 1942, I have no memory of when I first viewed Casablanca but it and its theme song, “As Time Goes By,” can fulfill the romantic dreamer in anyone. It has become the all-time-favorite of millions of film lovers. Pass the popcorn.
The film opens in a busy bazaar scene in Casablanca in French-held Morocco with a crowd of refugees who have fled Nazi Germany longingly observing a plane overhead flying to Lisbon and thereafter to freedom in America. The Germans have begun their march through Europe and getting out of Casablanca require letters of transit, two of which are hidden in a piano by Richard Blaine (Humphrey Bogart), the bitter, cynical owner of Rick’s Cafe American “where everybody goes.”
Peter Lorre (Mr. Ugarte) comes into possession of those letters when two German couriers are killed and he is arrested at Rick’s with Ugarte shouting, “Please Mr. Rick, save me!” Rick does nothing. It becomes known he has run guns to Ethiopia and fought in the Spanish Civil War, alerting us that Rick has a bit of the freedom fighter in him. Ugarte is arrested and dies, and as prefect of police Louis Renault (Claude Rains) says, “Life is of little value in Casablanca.”
There’s Rick looking ultra smart in a white double-breasted dinner jacket, taking care of business in his smoky nightclub-gambling casino filled with European royalty, bankers, and pickpockets, and confirming his hard-shell personality by denying to extend credit to the owner of “the second largest banking house in Amsterdam.” European royalty are reduced to pawning diamonds for survival. Rick always has a lit cigarette in hand. Everyone is smoking and drinking constantly. Headgear includes fezzes, turbans, and Panama hats.
Rick’s has an interesting array of employees such as Carl the Austrian waiter, Sasha the Russian bartender, and Sam the piano player. All have integral roles in making the film interesting.
Rick had a love affair with Ilsa Lund (Ingrid Bergman) in Paris. “Here’s looking at you kid.” He didn’t know at the time she was secretly married to Czech fugitive resistance leader Victor Laszlo (Paul Henreid)—tall, debonair, and dedicated to the cause of freedom at all cost. He had served time in a Nazi concentration camp and was thought to be dead by Ilsa, who discovers he is alive and ill. Their marriage was kept secret in case he was captured and Ilsa would be spared interrogation. The Germans now are invading Paris and at this point Ilsa leaves a bitter Rick jilted at the train station in a rainy scene to care for the ailing Laszlo. Rick departs with Sam who becomes the piano player at Rick’s cafe.
Ilsa and Victor walk into Rick’s Cafe by chance asking to be seated as far as possible from Major Strasser and his German officers. They have knowledge that two letters of transit are available. She spies Sam and asks him to play “Aa Time Goes By,” a favorite of hers and Rick’s during happier times in Paris. Out charges Rick saying, “I thought I told you never to play that…” and sees Ilsa sitting there. He’s not happy. Laszlo in the meantime is setting up a secret meeting with the local underground.
Ilsa in a secret meeting begs Rick for the letters of transit telling him how important her husband’s work is. She says if they don’t get out of Casablanca, they’ll die there, to which he bitterly replies, “So what. I’m going to die here.” She then tells him why she didn’t leave Paris with him. His bitterness melts. They embrace and declare their love for each other.
Now, my mind is working and wondering. Freedom fighters. Armenians certainly had them. I have never read any stories of romantic love dramas about any of them. Surely they had love lives too. Armenians must have had Ilsas and Victors. Surely we were not impervious to romantic entanglements. Secretly I am wishing I could write such a story. Don’t forget, it is a rainy night and thunder and lightning are known to put electricity in the air. What is love if not electric magnetism?
Well, let’s cut to the chase because of space issues. Rick creates a ruse telling Ilsa they will get on the plane to Lisbon with the letters of transit. Prefect Renault falls for the plan. At the airport Rick pulls a gun on Renault, who gets on the phone and instead of calling the airport tower calls Maj. Stasser, who immediately drives to the airport to stop the plane from leaving. Rick shoots and kills Stasser. Renault tells his officers, “Round up the usual suspects.” He knows how to protect his interests.
At this point Rick gives the letters to Laszlo and now Ilsa knows she won’t be leaving with Rick. He says that everyone knows “the problems of three little people don’t amount to a hill of beans in this world.” You’re important to his work. You’re what makes him go on, telling her that she would regret it if she stayed. “Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon and for the rest of your life.” She says, “God bless you Rick.”
Laszlo says to Rick with admiration, “Welcome back to the fight.” He takes Ilsa’s arm reassuredly gazing into her eyes, and together they board the plane disappearing into the foggy night. Laszlo’s noble work as the leader of the underground is destined to continue.
It’s a giveaway. In the film Laszlo never kisses Ilsa on the lips, only endearingly on the cheek, but he knows full well his wife and Rick had a liaison in Paris. I mean, give the man some credit. In two scenes he tells Ilsa, “You know, I love you very much.” She says smilingly, “I know, your secret is safe with me.” That’s enduring love, the kind that made sense to her as Rick told her to get on the plane with Victor.
Another favorite part for me: When the Nazis begin singing a German patriotic song and Rick gives his band the nod to play the French national anthem “La Marseillaise,” drowning out the Third Reich. Vive la France!
Rick and Renault walk away in the fog for Brazzaville bound by a dislike of the Nazis, forming a new kind of partnership.
“Play it again, Sam.”
Betty Apigian-Kessel
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