What can I say about Casablanca that hasn’t been said or written about by film makers and film historians over the past 70 years? AFI has it ranked #2 on its list of the Top 100 movies of all time, trailing only Citizen Kane. Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman became screen legends off of its wake. In my own personal opinion, it’s as close to a perfect movie as there is, and it’s one of my two favorite movies of all time.
Most everyone knows the story of Casablanca, so rather than just giving a plot synopsis, I’m going to focus on two aspects of this film that make it so compelling and they both have to do with the script. Yes, there are a dozen or so iconic lines that everyone knows, and there’s even a line that isn’t in it that many people think is. (No one ever says, “Play it again, Sam.” in Casablanca.) What I’m actually going to focus on here are the character development and the story structure. This screenplay, written by Julius J. Epstein, Philip G. Epstein and Howard Koch masterfully handles both of those elements in a way that any aspiring screenwriter should study.
Anyone who follows this blog with regularity knows that I am an advocate of three-act structure. In actuality, I am an advocate of three-act structure for screenwriters who are trying to break into the business and are trying to get a spec script noticed. My philosophy is that you need to prove that you know the rules before you’re allowed to break them, and a production company or a studio is not likely to buy a spec script from a new writer if the structure isn’t solid, even if the story is. Now you’re asking, what does this have to do with Casablanca? Well, I’ll tell you. We all have heard that a movie is told in 3 acts, with the first act being 25-30 pages, the second act being 50-60 pages and the third act being 25-30 pages. Well, Casablanca is told in four acts, and Act I and Act II are transposed. Not only that, but Act I is very short, only 20 minutes, and so only 20 pages. That might sound strange, or even foolish, but think about it in terms of the Hero’s Journey, as defined by Chris Vogler in his book, The Writer’s Journey, another writing style for which I am an advocate. Rick is the story’s hero. His Ordinary World is living with Ilsa in Paris. The Call to Adventure is when the Nazis are about to invade the city and he needs to leave because he has fought against them in the past and would be sent to a concentration camp if they discover him there. The refusal of the call will actually come in the Third Act when he refuses to give Ilsa and Lazlo the letters of transit so that they can escape Casablanca. Sam serves the role of Mentor in the First Act and the Crossing of the First Threshold is when Rick and Sam get on the train to leave Paris after Rick has received the note from Ilsa saying that she can’t come with him or see him again.
That leads us to the Special World, which is the city of Casablanca. Much like other special worlds, we find out right away that the rules are different there. People are different there, and it is unlike any place anyone has ever seen and it certainly different from Paris. Rick’s appearance is different as well. He dressed normally in Paris, but always wears a tuxedo in his club. His attitude is different as well. In Paris Rick is gregarious and loving. In Casablanca, he is the cynic who “sticks his neck out for no one.” In Casablanca there are nefarious characters like the shady Ugarte. There is Signor Ferrari, the owner of the Blue Parrot, who specializes in Black Market deals. And of course, there is Louis Renault, the corrupt Prefect of Police (played brilliantly by Claude Raines). All of these people are typical of characters that you would normally meet in the Tests, Allies and Enemies section of the Hero’s Journey, which typically takes place in the beginning of the second act. The next stage of the Hero’s Journey is the Approach. That happens in Casablanca when Ilsa and Lazlo arrive at Rick’s Cafe. The Approach is always the section of the Hero’s Journey that leads the Hero to the Supreme Ordeal, which divides Act II into two sections. The Supreme Ordeal happens in Casablanca after the flashback to Paris ends when Ilsa arrives at Rick’s after closing time to tell him that she never would have come to Casablanca if she had known that he was here. Drunk and despondent, Rick chases her off. The Reward follows the Ordeal, and it shows Rick having a more subdued conversation with Ilsa, and we see their romance start to bud again. That is followed by the Refusal of the call, which as mentioned before usually happens in Act I, but is happening in Casablanca’s Act III. Lazlo discovers that Rick has letters of transit, which would allow Lazlo and Ilsa to leave Casablanca without permission from Renault. Rick refuses to give Lazlo the letters and when Lazlo asks for a reason, Rick tells him to ask his wife.
The end of the second act and start of the third act is generally marked with The Road Back section of the Hero’s Journey. The Road Back in Casablanca, which actually marks the beginning of Act IV, has Ilsa coming to Rick’s cafe to beg him to give them the letters. When his refusal persists, she points a gun at him. In one of the many famous lines of the film, he tells her, “Go ahead. Shoot. You’ll be doing me a favor.” Finally, Ilsa gives in to her own passion, and confesses to Rick that she still loves him and will stay with him in Casablanca. The Road Back is often times the climax of a film, and Casablanca is no different. Rick masterfully orchestrates his and Ilsa’s escape, appearing to double cross Lazlo and Ilsa, only to show that he’s really double crossed Renault. Then we have the famous scene on the runway where Rick tells Ilsa that she has to go to Lazlo and that the “troubles of two people don’t add up to a hill of beans”. He convinces her to go, and the Return with the Elixir shows the plane taking off, Rick shoots the Nazi officer trying to keep Lazlo from escaping, and Rick and Renault reach the beginning of their beautiful friendship.
There it is. Casablanca as told in four acts. There are three distinct changes in the direction of the story and the Ordinary World is shown after we’ve been watching the Special World for about 40 minutes. All of the elements are there to see in the Hero’s Journey, and the screenwriters, along with director Michael Curtiz, constructed a story that has stood the test of time.
The other impressive aspect of this film, and particularly the screenplay, comes in the form of its character development. As the film begins, we hear a lot of people talking about Rick, so that we practically know him before he’s officially introduced. Rick may be one of the most complex characters ever created in American cinema. He is a sentimental cynic who has a habit of fighting for lost causes, and the lost cause here turns out to be Rick, himself. But even in the end, he redeems himself to the point where he may not actually be such a lost cause after all. Rick has depth, the likes of which is rarely seen. Even though Humphrey Bogart’s acting chops will never be confused with those of Paul Newman or Marlon Brando, he was the perfect choice to play Rick with his sarcastic wit, his smoldering anger and his heroic character arc. All of this was written in to the script and the character development also was integral in advancing the story.
Ilsa is another complex and deep character. She is filled with secrets and her motives are never entirely clear, but in a good way. It’s in a way that creates suspense and intrigue in the story. Even when she confesses to Rick that she loves him, there’s still the chance that she’d rather be with Lazlo. She shows her desperation to save Lazlo by threatening to kill Rick, even though we finally come to realize that she’d never really hurt him. Even when her actions are somewhat suspect, she’s always thinking of the men that she loves rather than herself. She didn’t tell Rick that she wasn’t leaving Paris because she was afraid that that would make him stay and that would lead to his capture, so the only way she could help him was to break his heart. Something like that needs to be the goal of every screenwriter. Give your character an impossible choice. That will make the audience care about him or her, and it will be especially so if the decision that they make is a selfless one. It will be even more so if your character has to hurt another character in order to help that other character, just as Ilsa had to hurt Rick in order to help him.
Finally there is Renault. He is a likable villain, even though he isn’t really the villain of the story. That distinction goes to Major Strasser. Renault is a classic character who is forced to play both sides of the coin. He doesn’t like the Germans, but he knows that he has to play ball with them in order to maintain his position. At his core, he is a good man, but he’s not above using his position of power to his advantage. He is a walking, talking contradiction that is personified when Strasser tells him to come up with a reason to close Rick’s cafe. He tells Rick that he’s “shocked, SHOCKED to find out that gambling’s going on here.” as the roulette dealer hands him his winnings for the night.
That is the main idea behind most of the characters in Casablanca. Most, if not all of them, have some sort of internal conflict or contradiction. That creates deep and complex characters that are interesting and compelling.
Did the Academy get it right?
Yes, they absolutely did, and it was a slam dunk this time. Casablanca is one of the greatest films of all time and it was nominated against a particularly weak field. For Whom the Bell Tolls was the only other feature nominated that year that has achieved any level of timelessness, and that’s mostly because it’s based on such a classic book. But it did have Gary Cooper, and Ingrid Bergman was in it as well. She had quite a year in 1942. But overall, Casablanca was clearly the best film of the year, and was in fact the best film of the decade and one of the best films of all time. It was also one of the most deserving Oscar winners ever.
another important element that made casablanca is magic; artistically speaking.