Casablanca (2)

Casablanca is difficult to categorize because of its romance. Rather, I should say that it is difficult to categorize because of its coupling of romance and war. Today it may seem unsurprising that a work of art would combine love and war, it may even be so unsurprising that it would be considered predictable. But, in the tradition of romantic literature there is a markedly different coupling: love and death. This coupling is epitomized in Wagner’s Tristan and Isolde. “What is the relationship between love and death?” is certainly the most important and most telling question to ask after seeing Tristan and Isolde. The question holds such a great deal of importance because it reveals the driving tension in nearly all romances from Shakespeare to Hemmingway. Casablanca, on the other hand, does not present that coupling: it rather couples love with life. Like Tristan and Isolde it demonstrates the struggle between duty and passion, but Casablanca does not take death as its ultimatum, it rather presents life, two lives in fact, stay and live like this or leave and live like that. But neither decision looks appealing. Thus, it is more like Anna Karenina than Pride and Prejudice.
Taking the model of Shakespeare or Austen, Casablanca does not appear to be a comedy; there is no marriage at the end. But before going further something must be said about these comparisons. Casablanca is more like Shakespeare in structure and also in theme; the comparison is relatively clear. Austen, on the other hand, is very different in both structure and theme and the difference is revealing. Austen is frequently misread as being “romantic.” Any romance in Pride and Prejudice is a redefinition of the word. There is no fatality to Elizabeth’s decision of whom she marries or whether she marries at all. The fate of Elizabeth’s relationship with Mr. Darcy will at no point fundamentally change her life; it will only make her more or less happy. Her concern with happiness is far less than her concern for the good. Thus, she will never allow for the very kind of tension on which romance is based. Elizabeth’s character is thoroughly established early on and –while she matures over the course of the book- her final decision does not dictate who she is, it rather qualifies how she will be. The situation is quite different with Rick and Ilsa. The tension of their relationship reaches its climax at the moment when they must decide whether or not to spend their lives together. Rick’s character, by contrast, will not be fully defined until he decides whether or not to leave with Ilsa:

Ilsa
You're saying this only to make me go.

Rick
I'm saying it because it's true. Inside of us we both know you belong with Victor. You're part of his work, the thing that keeps him going. If that plane leaves the ground and you're not with him, you'll never regret it.

Ilsa
No.

Rick
Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon, and for the rest of your life.

Ilsa
But what about us?

Rick
We'll always have Paris. We didn't have, we'd lost it, until you came to Casablanca. We got it back last night.

Ilsa
And I said I would never leave you.

Rick
And you never will. But I've got a job to do, too. Where I'm going you can't follow. What I've got to do you can't be any part of. Ilsa, I'm no good at being noble, but it doesn't take much to see that the problems of three little people don't amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world. Someday you'll understand that. Now, now...
Here's looking at you kid.

Apparently they writers were writing the script literally during the filming of the movie, and, since it was filmed in order, they were deeply unsure about where to go in the final scene. This detail might help to explain why these lines sound so fresh even sixty-six years later; they are delivered as though the actors almost don’t understand what they are saying, as if they were surprised by their own emotions. Whether the details about the film are true or not is interesting historically. Regardless of the film’s history, the writers and actors seem to have come to a perfect understanding. Whatever Rick is thinking there is no way for him to be prepared to let her go; he might even change his mind once he gets to the airport. Such speculations lead to a single question: Who is Rick? To be blunt, he is magnanimity itself. Cool, calm and reserved, he speaks effortlessly yet thoroughly. He stands alone without any affectation. In short, he is the modern gentleman. It is his image that should be conjured up when the word “manliness” is spoken. Ilsa stands opposite him as the modern woman. They are not simply nor merely symbolic, but their symbolism reveals their natures: Rick is outwardly confident though inwardly unsure, Ilsa is outwardly emotional but inwardly maintains her dignity and does not act on a whim. Ilsa, unlike Rick, has a kind of unbridled passion, infinitely attractive but not divine, a mortal unmoved mover. She embodies what Lorca was advocating when he said “La poesia no quiere adeptos, quiere amantes.”