NOTE: The following has been written for one of my courses here at film school, and I thought it might be interesting to just post what I've written. Remember though, before anything else, I love Casablanca as a movie. Now, I believe that you can read too much into things, and perhaps that's what I've done here, but thenn I'm getting marked on it, so who the Hell really cares? Just remember that, above all things, a movie has to work as a movie.
Café Americain: Casablanca and the Influence of America upon the Outcome of WWII
ILSA: "You have to think for both of us. For all of us."
RICK: "Alright. I will."
– Casablanca (d. Michael Curtiz, 1942)
Oh, what a romantic – and political – moment! The beautiful Scandinavian woman, speaking on behalf of herself and her European husband, pleads with the hardened [but ultimately sentimental] American protagonist, begging him to exert power over a situation that has passed well beyond her control – and to think that he actually says yes! This is the seminal moment in Casablanca, a film that – through its highly suggestive use of dialogue, production design, and diagetic music – creates a microcosm of the world at war, in which America is revealed to be an already-emerging [if initially reluctant] superpower.
Until the attack on Pearl Harbour took place in the December of 1941, the United States of America had remained generally aloof in regards to the going-ons of World War Two. There were a number of valid reasons for this, of course – not least the fact that the vast majority of American citizens were opposed to US involvement in Europe [a poll taken in 1939 revealed the approximate figure to be somewhere in the vicinity of 94%]. The incident at Pearl Harbour finally provided the United States with the opportunity to "push the button," even if their retaliation was focused more on Nazi Germany than it was upon Japan. It is interesting to note, then, that while production on Casablanca started in May of 1942, the film itself is set in December of 1941 [a fact that is revealed through Rick's dialogue], and one can, for this very reason, draw parallels between America's entry into the war and Rick's [who is, as I shall discuss, "America personified"].
The film's primary location is Rick's "Café Americain," which is, in this microcosm, an allegory for America [the place]. Not only is its name rather telling, but its atmosphere too – primarily through the popular jazz music of the time – suggests that this is [in its way] a kind of American "embassy" – that it's more "American" than America itself. This can be said of Rick as well, and his costumes [white tuxedos and creamy trench-coats] are extremely indicative of the archetypal American male that was emerging from American motion pictures – such as The Maltese Falcon (d. John Huston, 1941) – at this time. No-one else in Casablanca [save Sam, but only in flashback] dresses in such an obviously "American" way, and with no other [white] Americans around to represent their country, Rick becomes, in the eyes of the viewer, "America incarnate" – a vehicle for the nation's initial hesitation towards, and eventual acceptance of, its significant position of power.
Similarly, a number of other characters in the film become archetypical embodiments of a country or region based on how they dress, the music they listen to and the settings they inhabit. One fine [if explicit] example is that of Major Strasser, whose Nazi uniform – along with his singing of the Wacht am Rhein and the design of his office [complete with portrait of Hitler] – allows him to personify Nazi Germany in the eyes of Casablanca's audience.
Once the characters' places within the microcosm have been established in this way, the politics between them – which mirror those of the "real world" circa December, 1941 – can be further explored, exploded and scrutinised by the filmmakers. In Casablanca, this exploration is most apparent in the dialogue, which highlights both America/Rick's faux-indifference and initial reluctance towards, and ultimate acceptance of, political power.
RICK: "I stick my neck out for nobody."
FERRARI: "Wise foreign policy."
The first half of the picture is littered with examples of dialogue that remind us of America's pre-Pearl Harbour stance on the war. Rick tells Sam that, "I bet they're asleep in New York. I'll bet their asleep all over America," and he's obviously not far wrong. His speech is riddled with lines such as, "Either lay off politics or get out" and, "I'm the only cause I'm interested in," which do more than just establish the character's personality, but seek to create a synchronicity of political opinion between him and the United States. The latter part of the picture is also typified by its dialogue, as America/Rick accepts its/his destiny [which is – initially, at least – just to particpate]. Two lines stand out in particular: Laszlo's, "Welcome back to the fight. This time I know out side will win," which is decidedly literal, and the film's famous closing line, which is not. When viewed in a political light, Rick's musing over "the beginning of a beautiful friendship" suggests that it is, perhaps, the unity between America and Europe that will ultimately be the deciding factor in the war against the Nazis.
Through its deft implementation of dialogue, production design and diagetic music, Casablanca is able to create a microcosm of the world at war, in which the political relationships that exist between countries can be both magnified and explored. In focusing particularly on the December of 1941, the filmmakers have been able to observe the entry of the United States into the Second World War and [back in 1942, at least] hypothesise as to the impact this might have. The final scene suggests the positive ramifications of US-involvement in Europe, and so while the film is certainly not pro-war; it is, quite possibly, pro-involvement. After all, as Signor Ferrari suggests, "Isolationism is no longer a practical policy."
Café Americain: Casablanca and the Influence of America upon the Outcome of WWII
ILSA: "You have to think for both of us. For all of us."
RICK: "Alright. I will."
– Casablanca (d. Michael Curtiz, 1942)
Oh, what a romantic – and political – moment! The beautiful Scandinavian woman, speaking on behalf of herself and her European husband, pleads with the hardened [but ultimately sentimental] American protagonist, begging him to exert power over a situation that has passed well beyond her control – and to think that he actually says yes! This is the seminal moment in Casablanca, a film that – through its highly suggestive use of dialogue, production design, and diagetic music – creates a microcosm of the world at war, in which America is revealed to be an already-emerging [if initially reluctant] superpower.
Until the attack on Pearl Harbour took place in the December of 1941, the United States of America had remained generally aloof in regards to the going-ons of World War Two. There were a number of valid reasons for this, of course – not least the fact that the vast majority of American citizens were opposed to US involvement in Europe [a poll taken in 1939 revealed the approximate figure to be somewhere in the vicinity of 94%]. The incident at Pearl Harbour finally provided the United States with the opportunity to "push the button," even if their retaliation was focused more on Nazi Germany than it was upon Japan. It is interesting to note, then, that while production on Casablanca started in May of 1942, the film itself is set in December of 1941 [a fact that is revealed through Rick's dialogue], and one can, for this very reason, draw parallels between America's entry into the war and Rick's [who is, as I shall discuss, "America personified"].
The film's primary location is Rick's "Café Americain," which is, in this microcosm, an allegory for America [the place]. Not only is its name rather telling, but its atmosphere too – primarily through the popular jazz music of the time – suggests that this is [in its way] a kind of American "embassy" – that it's more "American" than America itself. This can be said of Rick as well, and his costumes [white tuxedos and creamy trench-coats] are extremely indicative of the archetypal American male that was emerging from American motion pictures – such as The Maltese Falcon (d. John Huston, 1941) – at this time. No-one else in Casablanca [save Sam, but only in flashback] dresses in such an obviously "American" way, and with no other [white] Americans around to represent their country, Rick becomes, in the eyes of the viewer, "America incarnate" – a vehicle for the nation's initial hesitation towards, and eventual acceptance of, its significant position of power.
Similarly, a number of other characters in the film become archetypical embodiments of a country or region based on how they dress, the music they listen to and the settings they inhabit. One fine [if explicit] example is that of Major Strasser, whose Nazi uniform – along with his singing of the Wacht am Rhein and the design of his office [complete with portrait of Hitler] – allows him to personify Nazi Germany in the eyes of Casablanca's audience.
Once the characters' places within the microcosm have been established in this way, the politics between them – which mirror those of the "real world" circa December, 1941 – can be further explored, exploded and scrutinised by the filmmakers. In Casablanca, this exploration is most apparent in the dialogue, which highlights both America/Rick's faux-indifference and initial reluctance towards, and ultimate acceptance of, political power.
RICK: "I stick my neck out for nobody."
FERRARI: "Wise foreign policy."
The first half of the picture is littered with examples of dialogue that remind us of America's pre-Pearl Harbour stance on the war. Rick tells Sam that, "I bet they're asleep in New York. I'll bet their asleep all over America," and he's obviously not far wrong. His speech is riddled with lines such as, "Either lay off politics or get out" and, "I'm the only cause I'm interested in," which do more than just establish the character's personality, but seek to create a synchronicity of political opinion between him and the United States. The latter part of the picture is also typified by its dialogue, as America/Rick accepts its/his destiny [which is – initially, at least – just to particpate]. Two lines stand out in particular: Laszlo's, "Welcome back to the fight. This time I know out side will win," which is decidedly literal, and the film's famous closing line, which is not. When viewed in a political light, Rick's musing over "the beginning of a beautiful friendship" suggests that it is, perhaps, the unity between America and Europe that will ultimately be the deciding factor in the war against the Nazis.
Through its deft implementation of dialogue, production design and diagetic music, Casablanca is able to create a microcosm of the world at war, in which the political relationships that exist between countries can be both magnified and explored. In focusing particularly on the December of 1941, the filmmakers have been able to observe the entry of the United States into the Second World War and [back in 1942, at least] hypothesise as to the impact this might have. The final scene suggests the positive ramifications of US-involvement in Europe, and so while the film is certainly not pro-war; it is, quite possibly, pro-involvement. After all, as Signor Ferrari suggests, "Isolationism is no longer a practical policy."
__________________
www.esotericrabbit.com
www.esotericrabbit.com