‘Casablanca’ at 80: The fundamental things still apply ... as time goes by

CSO at the Movies returns Feb. 11 and 13 with a live-to-picture presentation of “Casablanca” (1942) as the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Richard Kaufman, performs Max Steiner’s score while the film unspools above the stage. In this essay, film scholar Alan K. Rode examines the movie’s enduring appeal and its message of what it means “to be on the right side in a world starkly divided between good and evil.” 

A cherished motion picture for 80 years, “Casablanca” remains a cultural signpost. The production of the film was dubbed “a happy accident” by critic Andrew Sarris. But if so, it was made accidentally on purpose. It is a picture that emerged precisely at the creative apogee of the Hollywood studio system. Produced at the most serendipitous moment, “Casablanca” combined the optimum acting talent of Humphrey Bogart, Ingrid Bergman and a brilliant cast, as guided by the directorial acumen of Michael Curtiz, executive producer Hal Wallis and the spectacular screenwriting by the Epstein brothers, Howard Koch and Casey Robinson with an unforgettable score by the great Max Steiner. 

After initially attempting to have William Wyler direct, Hal Wallis tapped Michael Curtiz, Warner’s top director to helm the film. Based on the unproduced play, “Everybody Comes to Rick’s,” “Casablanca” was not expensive. The original budget of $878,000 ended up increasing to slightly more than $1 million because of the salaries of the cast and the writers who worked throughout the production. Virtually the entire picture was shot on the Warner Bros. sound stages in Burbank and the studio lot’s French Street. The sole location was Major Strasser’s (Conrad Veidt) deplaning arrival at Casablanca, which was filmed at the nearby Van Nuys airport.

Although the prerogative of casting the top stars rested with Wallis, Curtiz selected most of the featured players and virtually all of the uncredited actors. Contrary to numerous accounts, Ronald Reagan and George Raft were never considered to star in “Casablanca”; Hal Wallis had the picture developed specifically for Humphrey Bogart.

Curtiz handled Bogart much differently from when the actor played supporting heavies for him in “Kid Galahad” (1937) and “Virginia City” (1940). He allowed Bogart to find himself as a romantic movie star. Their professional relationship evolved despite becoming severely strained by the end of the picture. After “Casablanca” became a hit, Curtiz observed, “Humphrey Bogart never study, but he is always great.”

Borrowed by Wallis from David O. Selznick, Ingrid Bergman didn’t have a clue what “Casablanca” was about. Curtiz immediately put her at ease. She later wrote, “I greatly enjoyed Mike Curtiz, who really taught me quite a bit.” Curtiz likewise admired Bergman’s professionalism. She was a movie star but was refreshingly absent the accompanying sense of entitlement that Curtiz loathed. He called everyone “baby,” but he addressed Bergman as “Christmas baby,” denoting that she was extra-special. A pair of Curtiz’s most important contributions to “Casablanca” were enabling Humphrey Bogart to become a star while reminding Ingrid Bergman how to remain one.

Curtiz wanted the Dutch actor Philip Dorn to play Victor Laszlo. Wallis warned him that he might have to settle for somebody different, telling Curtiz, “and aside from Philip Dorn, whom we cannot get, and Paul Henreid, who I am sure will not play the part when he reads it, there is no one else that I can think of.”  Henreid did in fact believe that the part was a loser and initially turned it down. But after Wallis upped the ante to co-star billing with Bogart and Bergman and assumed the balance of Henreid’s existing contract with RKO. Henreid accepted the role but had misgivings afterward. He’d ended up getting the girl ... but not really. Despite his reservations, Paul Henreid brought the precise chord of noble integrity to the part of Victor Laszlo that was integral in making “Casablanca” work so well.

Curtiz and Wallis both surmised Claude Rains would be perfect as Captain Renault. Screenwriter Julius Epstein and his twin brother Philip wrote some of the movie’s most delightfully caustic dialogue for Rains, noting that “Casablanca” wouldn’t be what it became without his performance. Ditto for Sydney Greenstreet, Peter Lorre and other members of the famed Warner Bros. stock company of singular character actors.

Perhaps two most important casting selections made on Curtiz’s initiative were that of his old Hungarian friend S.Z. Sakall as Carl, the headwaiter of Rick’s Café and the drummer-singer Arthur “Dooley” Wilson as Bogart’s pianist companion. Sakall, a former music hall comedian, added the humorous touch Curtiz sought. In addition to “As Time Goes By,” Dooley Wilson’s voice was used for “It Had to Be You,” “Shine” and “Knock on Wood.” The critical accolades for Wilson’s performance validated Curtiz’s faith in him, even though the only other African American on set was pianist Elliott Carpenter, who played the piano off camera as Wilson fingered the keys.

One of the film’s most striking attributes is its exquisite imagery. The picture would reflect a great deal of Wallis’ personal vision, including the live parrot he had placed outside Sydney Greenstreet’s Blue Parrot Café. But the flourishes of Bergman knocking over the glass in the Paris café, the Vichy water bottle hurled in the trash by Rains at the finale and Bogart’s curling cigarette smoke that precedes the flashback sequence underscore Curtiz’s brilliance with the camera.

Perhaps the most emblematic example is the initial interior sequence in Rick’s Café. It is a visual panorama of waiters with trays, patrons and soldiers, all moving about or seated in the crowded nightclub in a faultless choreography of bustle. The sequence transitions from a close-up of Dooley Wilson singing into a dolly shot that reveals the darkly lit interior before dissolving into a quick series of shots of shady black marketers surreptitiously touting all manner of escape to a mixture of bewildered Europeans. It was more than Curtiz’s fluid camera and faultless composition that created the authenticity. Most of the bit actors in “Casablanca” appear to be European refugees because they were. Many were Jewish refugees who had fled the Nazis. Curtiz personally cast all of them. All told, 34 different nationalities appeared in the film.

As production progressed into July 1942, the screenplay rewrites by Howard Koch and the Epstein brothers continued. New pages were being brought to the set each morning. The constant rewriting meant Curtiz had to scramble as it became a race to finish the picture on schedule. His perfectionism occasionally exceeded the forbearance of even those who liked him. At one point, he shot iterative takes of Claude Rains doing nothing more than walking into the café set. Not understanding what was wanted, Rains became exasperated and made his next entry on a bicycle, much to the delight of Bogart and the crew.

Matters came to a head when Curtiz, Bogart, Bergman, Henreid and everyone else did not know precisely how the picture was going to end. Screenwriter Casey Robinson’s pre-production memo (along with the original play) punctures the myth of the totally unknown ending. There was little doubt about essence of the finale, given that the then strict Production Code would not permit a married woman to desert a noble husband to remain with her saloonkeeper lover. And killing off Laszlo to allow Ilsa and Rick to be reunited would ruin the picture. There was also the problem of what to do with Rick after Ilsa and Laszlo left on the plane to Lisbon.

Howard Koch kept rewriting. The need for personal sacrifice in wartime became the key that unlocked the puzzle. Bogart and Curtiz had a major disagreement about the final scene that was filmed on Warner’s Stage 1 against the backdrop of a prop mockup of an airplane being attended to by midget extras.

Precisely what Bogart and Curtiz quarreled about has been forgotten. The fact that Hal Wallis was summoned to the set to arbitrate indicates that the dispute was heated, as the executive producer visited film sets only occasionally: He had three other pictures in production along with “Casablanca.” Perhaps some of the “Casablanca” magic was created by the alchemy of acrimony that so often characterized a Curtiz set. After the film wrapped, Hal Wallis summoned Bogart back from his yacht to dub in the film’s memorable final line, “Louis, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

One of the most intriguing aspects of the film’s memorable score was composer Max Steiner’s loathing of “As Time Goes By.” He told his wife, “They have the lousiest tune that they already recorded, and they want me to use it.” Hollywood’s most prolific composer who retired with scores for 350 feature films, including three Oscars and 24 nominated film scores, Steiner more than earned the right to object about being forced to use someone else’s music. But the 1931 tune written by Herman Hupfeld and recorded by Rudy Vallee had been in the original play, and the piano renditions with Dooley Wilson and Bergman humming the tune had been already filmed. Steiner created one of the most enduring film scores using a pre-determined theme song. The once forgotten pop tune became the No. 1 song in the country in April-May 1943. Steiner’s score and “Casablanca” became inseparable from each other, even if the composer didn’t quite believe it then or ever. On the final page of his “Casablanca” score, which Steiner turned over to orchestrator Hugo Friedhofer, he wrote, “Dear Hugo: Thanks for everything. I am very pleased with you! Yours, Herman Hupfeld.”

Dooley Wilson sang about how “the fundamental things apply as time goes by,” but he could have been extolling those attributes that sustained Warner Bros. at its zenith: superb acting by charismatic stars and supporting players, efficient production, a timeless screenplay constructed separately by a stable of skilled writers, excellent photography and inspired direction. “Casablanca” was a picture that the key participants strove to improve until the last possible moment.

“Casablanca” was the sixth-ranked box-office success of 1943, grossing $4,496,000. In addition to winning Academy Awards for best picture, director (Curtiz) and writing (Koch and the Epsteins), it would garner five other nominations for best actor (Bogart), supporting actor (Rains), cinematography (Arthur Edeson), editing (Owen Marks) and music (Max Steiner). In the midst of World War II, it became America’s symbol of what it meant to be on the right side in a world starkly divided between good and evil. Paul Henreid’s final line to Bogart: “Welcome back to the fight. This time I know our side will win” was more than a throwaway line of wartime propaganda. It was a genuine affirmation of a shared commitment between millions of Americans and our allies. 

Alan K. Rode ©2021, all rights reserved

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