It’s time to revisit a film that ranks second among the American Film Institute’s Top 100 American Films, sixth among the Internet Movie Database’s Top 250, and is consistently ranked among the top ten best movies of all time by every film reviewer I’ve read.  Previously released on DVD, we now have a high definition presentation as close to the motion picture theater experience as any fan of Casablanca could possibly desire.

The very familiar story takes place in unoccupied France during the Second World War.  The Nazis are in Paris.  A puppet government has been set up in Vichy.  In French Morocco, refugees fleeing the brutal Nazi conquerors stream into Casablanca hoping to bribe or buy their ways to sanctuary in America.  The most popular nightspot in town is Cafe Americain, owned and run by an expatriate American, Rick Blaine (Humphrey Bogart).  He projects an image of selfish self-interest, forsaking allegiances to maintain the strict neutrality of a businessman who wants to stay in business.  No less self-serving is Captain Louis Renault (Claude Rains), prefect of police and friend, but a friend who seems uncomfortably cooperative with the Nazi overlords. 

Having fled Paris as the Germans approached, deserted by the love of his life, Ilsa Lund Laszlo (Ingrid Bergman), Blaine was not prepared when she walks into his gin joint.  And he certainly didn’t want to see her on the arm of another man, Victor Laszlo (Paul Henreid), an underground leader of the French Resistance.  They, too, are fleeing the Nazis.  Laszlo wishes to escape to safety so that he may continue his work unimpeded.  The Nazis are aware of his presence in Casablanca and wish to detain him there, neutralizing his influence.  The means to escape takes the form of letters of transit, stolen from the bodies of two murdered German officers by Guillermo Ugarte (Peter Lorre).  The letters might be considered a Hitchcockian Macguffin, but they’re more than that.  A Macguffin is a distraction, a mechanism to provoke the story the filmmaker wants to tell; here they play a vital role.  Like the stolen plans for the Death Star, they will provide the means for the film’s resolution.

I will not attempt to place Casablanca in any particular genre.  It is foremost a love story of two people with bitter regrets who come to terms with their feelings.  It is an action piece that, for its time, is typically anti-Nazi.  And it’s laced with humor, from Blaine’s sardonic comments to Renault’s sarcastic wit.  Made during a decade when motion picture studios were cranking out fifty films each year, this was considered just another flick by the filmmakers, the players, and Warner Bros.  But like that statistically valid cliché - if you put an infinite number of monkeys in front of an infinite number of typewriters all the world’s past and future works of literature will ultimately be typed out - the odds favored the production of a few exceptional films within that vast output.  This does not diminish in any way the talents and instincts of the featured actors and the behind-the-scenes artists; it simply indicates that, once in a while, magic happens.

Casablanca is wonderfully economical.  Each scene drives the story forward, revealing the characters, exposing psychological baggage, creating conflicts on several levels that must be resolved by film’s end.  The screenplay is a delightful balance of melodrama, drama, action, and humor; none seem out of place.  The casting is a synergistic delight.  Humphrey Bogart’s Rick Blaine has wrapped himself in a hard, cynical shell to hide his soft center of sentimentality and vulnerability.  Ingrid Bergman’s Ilsa Lund Laszlo is believably conflicted, an emotional wreck being pulled apart by her love for two men, one based on passion and the other on a deep respect and admiration.  How many can resist tearing up as her eyes glisten with moisture? 

Claude Rains’ Captain Louis Renault is playfully corrupt, flexible in his allegiances until his innate goodness overcomes his avarice and lechery.  Sydney Greenstreet is still the man who likes to do business with a man who likes to do business; his Signor Ferrari is merely a cameo, but his presence is most welcome.  Another cameo is by Peter Lorre, seen all too briefly as the slimy Guillermo Ugarte.  That some of the other characters fall somewhat flat, like Paul Henreid’s Victor Laszlo, an underground leader with no charisma, or are borderline caricatures, like Conrad Veidt’s Major Heinrich Strasser, the arrogant Nazi officer everyone loves to hate, must be ignored (as do the obviously artificial special effects).  Casablanca is simply too good a film, and minor flaws are gladly forgiven.

The Video: How Does The Disc Look?

The black and white film’s theatrical aspect ratio of 1.37:1 is presented in a window-paned high definition transfer.  This is an exceptional transfer from Warner Home Video.  The film elements look pristine, thanks to a loving restoration by Lowry Digital Images, the same folks who did such a splendid job on North by Northwest.  Subtle scratches and dirt may be found only in some stock war footage, very likely left intact as an artistic decision.  The presentation is wonderfully detailed, from finely grained textures to the small object details in sharp focus in the background.  So crisp and clean is this HD DVD that the matte painting in the opening sequence and the softening of the images by the cinematographer during Bergman’s close-ups are quite clear.  There are deep rich blacks, yet shadow detail within the film’s shadow-strewn lighting and during the night scenes is first-rate.  The grayscale doesn’t suffer from a hint of black or white crush.  Bravo.  We’re left with very film-like images.

The Audio: How Does The Disc Sound?

The Dolby Digital Plus 1.0 sound for a film made over sixty years ago is surprisingly good, but one cannot escape the limitations of such old technology.  As you would expect from a film of that era, the bandwidth and dynamic range are limited, yet the distortion level is substantially lower than I had expected.  The dialog is very clear and isn’t contaminated by the raspiness sometimes heard in compressed digital audio tracks.  It’s the sound effects and music that suffer most from the obsolete audio.  Max Steiner’s fine orchestral score, much of it variations on a theme from Herman Hupfeld’s "As Time Goes By" is nasal and claustrophobic.  Gunshots most dramatically demonstrate the weaknesses of the old technology; they are messy, smeared, and highly compressed.  But the dialog is key, and it’s better here than in many discs of more recent films.

The alternative languages are in French and Spanish, both heard in Dolby Digital Plus 1.0.  The audio is supported by subtitles in French, Spanish, and English SDH.

The Supplements: What Goodies Are There?

The extensive supplements have been ported from the previous two-disc DVD release.  There is an understandably affectionate introduction by Lauren Bacall (2:05).  It’s optional and will automatically branch to the film upon its completion.  There are two feature-length commentaries on this disc.  One is by film critic Roger Ebert; the other is by film historian Rudy Behlmer. 

Listening to Ebert is like attending a lecture in film school.  He translates the language of film, conveying the meaning of lighting, framing, and composition.  We learn how the filmmakers created the illusion of reversing the disparity in height between Bogart and Bergman; she was apparently two inches taller.  He explains how lighting was used to shape Bergman’s face, and how she preferred her left profile.  Ebert differentiates between Casablanca myths and historical truths, dispelling the notion that the ending wasn’t written until the day that scene was shot.  He’s engaging and entertaining. 

As he provided for the DVDs of Notorious, The Invisible Man, and Frankenstein, film historian Rudy Behlmer offers a richly detailed lecture.  He reveals the history behind the making of the film, casting details, anecdotes from the set, biographical information about the principles, and some shooting techniques.  His historical perspective is more entertaining and informative than many commentary tracks found on other discs.  It’s very well done.

Quite remarkably, two deleted scenes survive to be included.  Unfortunately, the audio no longer exists, so forced subtitles have been added to provide dialog.  One scene resolves the question about the deal Laszlo made with Blaine to get him and Ilsa out of Casablanca.  Equally surprising are the outtakes that have survived, even if they too are silent.  They seem like alternate takes or minor flubs, like beaded curtains falling in front of the lens during a push-in at the Blue Parrot, so don’t expect many laughs.  Since the outtakes are not new to the viewer, no subtitles are displayed.

Bacall on Bogart (1:23:22) is a loving tribute to the actor by his widow.  She traces his life from childhood and we learn of his early attraction to performing.  Bogart appeared on Broadway in several productions before he was ultimately seduced by Hollywood.  Bacall takes us through his film career, punctuating his story with generous clips from many of his films.  Quite a few notable people appear to reminisce.  Co-produced in 1988 by New York City’s PBS station WNET and Turner Entertainment, we’re able to enjoy the recollections of several participants who are no longer with us, like John Houston.  Bogart died prematurely at the age of 57, a victim of his decades long cigarette addiction.  He left a fine legacy.

A Tribute to Casablanca (34:37), a 1992 Turner Entertainment production, is also narrated by Lauren Bacall.  Pia Lindstrom, credited as a film critic as opposed to Ingrid Bergman’s daughter, and Rudy Behlmer - both of whom are heard elsewhere on this disc set - screenwriters Julius Epstein and Howard Koch, Warner Bros. story editor Irene Lee Diamond, film historian Ronald Haver, playwright Murray Burnett, and others comment on the film.  This is an informative and entertaining overview of the film’s history and the shoot. 

In The Children Remember (6:46), a newly produced short, Stephen Bogart and Pia Lindstrom reminisce about their recollections of their parents’ stories about the making of the film.  This is the puff piece of the disc set.  Bogart and Lindstrom, who respectively have noticeable resemblances to their father and mother, talk about what the film means to them and what the film meant to their parents.

Production Research is a series of ninety-four images of Warner Bros. documentation; many are internal memos.  There are quite a few fascinating details buried here, but once you start the feature, the screens switch too quickly to read the text completely.  I’d recommend putting your player in the pause mode and navigate through the documents with the next chapter and previous chapter buttons on your remote control.  The text screens are followed by a large selection of stills.  Some appear to photographically document the film’s sets and props, others seem like publicity photos.  This feature finishes with posters, lobby art, and a couple of odd marquee photos.

Next is a Warner Bros. cartoon featuring virtually all the animated characters from the classic Looney Tunes.  It spoofs the feature with a cartoon called Corrotblanca (8:03).  Alas, it was made in 1995, six years after Mel Blanc died and thirteen years after the death of Carl Stalling.  Chuck Jones was not involved, either.  Consequently, much of the special wit found in the Looney Tunes of the forties and early fifties is absent.

An unusual audio-only supplement is the 1943 Screen Guild Theater Radio Show adaptation of Casablanca; it’s complete with vintage commercials.  Bogart, Bergman, and Henreid reprise their roles in this shortened, highly revised version.  As you might expect, without Bergman’s pensive glances, eyes glistening with tears, there’s absolutely no emotional impact.  The production is certainly a novelty, but it fails to engage.  An even more bizarre supplement is an 18:37 condensation of a Warner Bros. Television remake of Casablanca set during the cold war called Who Holds Tomorrow.

Scoring Stage Sessions is a collection of eight audio-only recordings.  Six are Dooley Wilson vocals; two are orchestral (I’m looking forward to a modern rerecording of Steiner’s score on CD).  The selections may be played individually or all may be played sequentially.

And you’ll also find the film’s original and re-release theatrical trailers.

The 102-minute feature is organized into thirty-two chapters.

Final Thoughts

Some movies simply belong in any film lover’s collection.  Casablanca is one of them.  This high definition disc sports a superb transfer with surprisingly good sound.  The very generous supplements are informative and entertaining.  This release is very highly recommended.