Review: Casablanca (1942).

Casablanca (1942). Directed by Michael Curtiz. Screenplay by Julius & Philip Epstein and Howard Koch.

[Humphrey Bogart, Ingrid Bergman]

Romantic, melodramatic, scandalous. Perhaps the greatest and most memorable romantic drama of all time.

An absolute classic set against the backdrop of Morocco, bustling with both life and an air of hopefulness that seeps through the melancholy that is World War two. Better yet, the soothing tunes of the grand piano sitting in the center of Rick's Café Américain, offering elegance to each and every moment.

Humphrey Bogart is extraordinarily charming. Rick is totally unreadable, though it is still more than evident that his motives are directed towards the greater good (well, most of the time anyway).

Such misery he maintains throughout, his head and heart still somewhere in Paris; years before finding himself caught in the middle of allied-countries newfound territory.

He is a complex character, constantly challenged by the dichotomy of cynicism and nobility.

And perhaps the films overall simplicity is what really sells the story. We are drawn to the ambiguity that is Rick and Isla's tumultuous relationship-with the added drama of war-torn Casablanca.

There is also such tranquility overlapping the utter chaos that is both Rick's Café, as well as Casablanca as a whole. We as an audience feel a sense of relaxation- the notion that Rick remains in control and we do not have to worry too much on his behalf.

As a stickler for romantic dramas, I have thought about this movie repeatedly since my first viewing- they don't make films like this anymore and Casablanca will remain an absolute classic for as long as cinema continues to expand and evolve. This movie is the blueprint for Hollywood romance- for the type of dramatism that latches onto our curiosity and forces our attention for the next 1hr 40 minutes.

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