Bogart and Bergman are changing history, witness it now or a century later, something so pure as such, doesn’t get rusty.
Curtiz is light on his feet and smooth as the Jazz that is continuously and melodiously played in the hotel. And I think it is his supervision that blends in sacrifice in romance, so pure and irreplaceable, that drama is overshadowed by its crowd pleasing concept. The director, Michael Curtiz installs tiny notions in the script that carves a momentum of live hotel and the do’s and don’ts of a hotelier especially the magnetic reputation he or she juggles by dipping his or her hands on both the side of the dirt.
The Robin Hood figure, is their way in, and with Humphrey Bogart playing one of the most iconic character, the first act of the film is building up his figure that is latter to be shattered with such fragility. But the final act is brimmed with charm, so where they actually had to work was the introduction. And choreographed like some exotic dance, the entire hotel that is mapped out in front of us, makes us feel like home something that has aged well over the years. Personally, I prefer the sacrifice of his hotel’s fairness regarding the gambling policies.
To me, that would always be the game changer, not only the actress’s performance but the tone that shifts with such calculative baby steps that you are sinking in deliberately in those twinkling eyes. And if Bogart is boasting off with some of his best work then Ingrid Bergman definitely casts the magic powerful enough to rubble him down in a blink. Their equation is like some wine, you are buzzed with the aftermath soberness rather than their poetic romantic vacation. Casablanca defines the Hollywood version of Americana set in a different location, it was ahead of its time then and it is now; all hail the classic dish serving one purpose and one only.