CASABLANCA IV – Ingrid Bergman
Humphrey Bogart, Ingrid Bergman in Casablanca
CASABLANCA III – Humphrey Bogart
That brings me to the last and least of the trio of star performances: Ingrid Bergman’s rather mediocre portrayal of Ilsa Lund. First, it’s not a truly bad performance, but it’s nowhere near great. 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. Ilsa is a pawn, a toy, a heroine whose life 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 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 (in the present and Paris flashbacks), 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 (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 this film. 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 real way a ‘mature’ woman.
True, Ilsa is a beautiful woman, 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:
- the character is not well written and lacks depth,
- Bergman was too young and callow as an actress to pull off the role, even if better written, and
- 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 (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’), the character is not a great one nor does Rains exhibit great acting chops. Much as in the dialogue afforded to Bogart’s Rick Blaine, there is a flippancy and preciousness that the two men 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. The ending is good — Louie and Rick talk of leaving Casablanca after Louie covers for Rick’s killing the Nazi Major Strasser — but there is nothing either actor does that lifts the scene above its own well-written basis.
Then there is Strasser’s portrayer, Conrad Veidt (best known for his role in The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari). Simply put, is there anything that lifts Strasser above the generic Nazi archetype in thousands of films? No. How about the black marketer, Signor Ferrari (Sydney Greenstreet)? No. This isn’t to say that his character does not get off a few good lines, but again, most critics mistake a few good lines — or tear-filled eyes — for good acting, and utterly overlook detailed and restrained performances like Paul Henreid’s.
Finally, there’s a thinner-than-usual Peter Lorre as Ugarte, another black marketer; one who ends up getting killed. Just look at his last scene — ‘Rick, Rick, you MUST help me!’ — and one can see what a steep decline that role was from his killer in Fritz Lang’s M a decade earlier, even considering the too-precious soliloquy at the end of that film. In short, Casablanca is not a film to which one looks for an acting clinic.
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Tags: Casablanca, Classic Movies, Claude Rains, Conrad Veidt, Film Reviews, Ingrid Bergman, Peter Lorre
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