Back to back I’ve watched films that are basically unreviewable. Not that they’ve been bad- just the opposite, in fact. It’s just difficult to sit down and say “now, I’m going to review Casablanca and it’s going to matter.” I know nothing I write is going to nudge anyone into seeing this, one of the primary movies in American cinema. I mean, it might be fun, but it feels like it might be a little bit like screaming to drown out the sea.
Of course, the Boston Celtics are on in the background, trying their best to lose Game 5 of the Eastern Conference Finals, so maybe waxing poetic about Casablanca might be fun.
Ok. I’ll do it. Laundry list time.
- One of my favorite elements of Casablanca is the dialog. Not just the big lines either, there are dozens of little exchanges that I wish I’d written. The scenes between Rick (Humphrey Bogart) and Captain Renault (Claude Rains) are especially delicious. Both are obviously fine actors, they work well together and the dialog they’re riffing on is plainly awesome.
Awesome I say.
- I know it doesn’t need to be said. I’ll say it anyway. Ingrid Bergman really was beautiful, wasn’t she?
- Sydney Greenstreet’s Signor Ferrari is somehow a very appealing character to me. I’d like to think there’s a parallel universe where I could be as well-fed and sleazy.
- Is there a better setting in all of cinema? The time and place are just unmatched.
- How cool is the scene where they sing La Marseillaise? Take that you nazis!
Well, the Celtics have managed to win the game, and both hands of my watch are pointing the same direction, so that’ll have to do. To sum up- Casablanca kicks ass. Yes.
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