| Watching the old “classics” has become quite intimidating. For one, you’re afraid that you just won’t understand the sensibilities of “the way we were.” And does that mean that you’re not capable or can’t handle the messages or the form? Have the senses been that dulled by special effects and “very special” television shows? With all that self-doubt out of the way (Repeat after me: Look for the universal, look for the universal …), the old classics tread a very fine line. That being, is it so ingrained in our culture that to see it now transforms it into pop culture moments strung together by plot. This is of no fault of the filmmakers. I’m sure they only dreamed that Bogart’s dialogue still would be quoted so many years later. |
| The Movie Diary entry for ... |
| Casablanca |
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| But, to stave off feeling guilty for using the movie as a benchmark for thought without ever actually seeing it, “Casablanca” found its way into my DVD player. How I feel, though, wanders with the ambiguity of a pan out with a fade to black. The dialogue just crackles with the old-school editorial standby - “quotable quotes.” But, in retrospect, have we really placed the placed the proper respect on Bogart’s delivery of those lines? His gravely, smoke-stained voice has become an imitation standby while his last name signifies the hard-nosed noir leading man tortured by female beauty. What’s striking about the movie, then, is just how talk it is. Any major action (early on, the pass supplier’s capture and death) occur off-screen while most of the scenes take place within the club. Screenwriter William Goldman loved the script for its retention of mystery regarding Bogart’s character. We never find out what it was that kept him out of America. We are tossed a few scraps of information, but only to solidify his “help the underdog” personality. And the Nazis are even more treacherous when you can’t see them … Despite the lack of, say, a boat chase with exploding buoys against a big swastika-laden Nazi schooner, the movie moves very fast. The material demands it, but more importantly the movie delivers. The more philosophical question becomes, “Could this movie be made today?” The cynic would say no, at least for a big Hollywood movie. The budget could not have been that large, and most of that probably was spent on cigarettes keeping up the proper ambiance. Stars probably wouldn’t buy the low-key concept (even with the nominate-me-please drunken scene) and directors sometimes aren’t known for understating things. But in its defense, the movie has an undeniable atmosphere and feel. While the dialogue lasts, so too does the noir-ish feel and smoky dread. And the great thing that stuck out for me was the tremendous difference in acting styles from Bogart in present-time and flashback. You see some of his universal, defining characteristics, but there’s so much overriding happiness while he’s with Bergman that the character development straddles the fine line between believable and unbelievable. That’s why the romance (and possibly the greater relationship, the friendship) still rings true today, thanks in no small part to “not making ‘em like they used to.” |
| Originally published Sept. 23, 2002 on Word of Mouth |
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