It's been many years since I've seen the film and, in the interim, I've grown very critical. This old pot-boiler has had more that its share of praise over the years and the reason for this remains enigmatic. Essentially a propaganda noir for WW2 audiences, the film is noisy, improbable, disjointed and its cavalcade of character actors are nothing but a distraction. Why are they there? Greenstreet, Lorre and Qualen (I kept thinking "where's John Ford?") play roles which resemble characters from an opaque picaresque novel written by Raymond Chandler.
In order for this film to be a superordinate of film noir, as it has often been touted, it needed to have tension, sympathetic characters, a femme fatale and threatening antagonists. Veidt's Major Strasser was a caricature, as was Bogart's Rick; his incessant smoking and facial tics were just annoying by the end of the film. How could this tough guy put his head down on his desk and bawl over a dame? How could the dame be so frozen and faux that he'd even want to do that? There was zero chemistry between Bogart and Bergman.
The film occasionally burst into music; this simply muddied the water. The only character who engaged me with a scintilla of interest was the ever-cynical Claude Rains; he always carries this off with aplomb.
The real stars of "Casablanca" were Michael Curtiz, for making the film which started its life as half a script, and Arthur Edeson. Curtiz's direction is taut and he tries, and mostly succeeds, in providing well-executed action in a film which is essentially a stage play. A noir 'ship of fools' - without the water, but with the sea-sickness!!
The major star of "Casablanca", however, is cinematographer Arthur Edeson (1891-1970). This veteran's glorious chiaroscuro photography is simply front and centre and I couldn't keep my eyes from revelling in the sheer artistry. This film is a thing of beauty which frames a bog-standard story, stereotypical characters and starchy leads.
