CASABLANCA Review Pt.4 – Ingrid Bergman

Humphrey Bogart, Ingrid Bergman in Michael Curtiz's Casablanca

CASABLANCA Review Part III – Humphrey Bogart

Now, compare scenes where Humphrey Bogart tries to act with his eyes the way Paul Henreid does, and one notices Bogart's utter limitations — he could do cynicism well, and pain ok (aided by a drink in hand), but that's about it. This is not because Rick is constricted emotionally the way Victor is. The limits are Bogart's, not Rick's, and these limits provide the parameters for objectively measuring Bogart's success at transcending his star persona and breaking into a new level of characterization.

To his credit, Bogart does break a few bonds, as mentioned. He is not an early-and-forever typecast version of the characters someone like Joe Pesci plays from film to film. That said, Bogart's performance is not in a league with Henreid's, much less on the same level as some of the truly great performances in film history.

That brings me to the last and least of the trio of star performances: Ingrid Bergman's rather mediocre portrayal of Ilsa Lund.

First of all, I should clarify that Bergman's is not a "bad" performance; however, it's nowhere near great, either. One need only look at contemporaneous performances by, say, Katharine Hepburn, Joan Crawford, Bette Davis, or even Judy Garland, to see how much Bergman pales in contrast. Her Ilsa is a pawn, a toy, a heroine who is the plaything of the two men in her life — and, incidentally, isn't it interesting how similar in facial construction both Henreid and Bogart are? A fortuitous development that adds some much-needed depth to Ilsa's psyche.

Ilsa has zero control of her destiny and zero ability to will herself any power — emotionally, spiritually, or sexually. It's rather apparent that Ilsa really loves Victor, not Rick, because anyone who's ever been in love knows that she would have stayed with Rick, no matter. The truth is she likely just lusted for Rick and realized that, but lucked out in having him make a decision she knew was right while being too weak to voice it.

Before objections are raised, think of all the scenes where we get a sense of the spiritual, political, humanitarian, and ethical consonance she has with her husband, and compare them to all the scenes she shares with Rick — both in the present and the Paris flashbacks — and then ask: What exactly does she share with Rick? Not temperament, not vision, not ethics, not spirituality. All that we are left with, then, is a physical and superficial bond. In the real world, this is called lust. She lusted for Rick, but loved Victor. The screenplay shows it, and her choice, while assenting to Rick's "choice," proves it.

As for the actress? The raving over Bergman's performance is likely the worst aspect of most critical assessments of Casablanca. I've pointed out how nuanced Paul Henreid's acting was, being able to convey emotions with his eyes alone; well, Bergman does something different — she totally overacts with her eyes. Many a critic fulminates rapture over her terminally tear-filled gaze (including Roger Ebert in the DVD's film commentary), but from the get-go Ilsa is a stereotypical damsel in distress, prone to hyper-emotionalism, and in no believable way a "mature" woman.

True, Ilsa is beautiful, but she is no more beautiful than many of the other female characters that inhabit Rick's bar, while being far more emotionally needy. Even by film's end, she wholly thrusts her life's future into Rick's hands. Despite the fame of Rick's last advice to her about regretting not getting on the plane with Victor, that bit comes across as incredibly paternalistic and belittling advice when seen from an objective perspective.

Now, having seen Bergman in other films, I know she is a better actress than what can be attested in Casablanca. That leaves three reasons for this rather muddled and uninspiring performance:

1. The character is not well written and lacks depth,
2. Bergman was too young and callow as an actress to pull off the role, even if better written, and
3. Reasons 1 and 2.

I opt for number 3.

Let us now look at some of the other minor roles. In the second tier there is Captain Louis "Louie" Renault (Claude Rains). While there are certainly some great moments for Louie, the character is not a great one nor does Rains exhibit great acting chops. Louie's best moments are mostly comic, such as when he closes Rick's bar after the dueling anthems for being "shocked" at gambling going on, and then a valet brings him his winnings and he says "Thanks."

Much as in the dialogue afforded to Humphrey Bogart's Rick Blaine, there is a flippancy and preciousness that Louie and Rick have within their own repartee and with others that's simply not believable. One would think both of them were the reincarnations of Oscar Wilde, for their conversation, however quotable, feels scripted.