Casablanca (1942) dir. Michael Curtiz
Starring: Humphrey Bogart, Ingrid Bergman, Paul Henreid, Claude Rains, Conrad Veidt

****

By Alan Bacchus

This is my favourite movie of all time, the zenith of Hollywood studio system, a war time romance, pot boiling noir and razor sharp thriller all rolled into one, crafted to perfection with one of the greatest screenplays of all time. It’s also the culmination of the creative skills of one of the great directors of all time, Michael Curtiz, a shamefully unheralded genius, a rare studio-era auteur whose influence spread for decades into the work of pulp masters like Steven Spielberg and George Lucas.

It was also the launching film for Humphrey Bogart, who, before then, was a primarily a character actor, playing second bill heavies, supporting more notorious thugs like James Cagney. Here Curtiz takes a chance on Bogie as brooding anti-hero and romantic leading man. He plays Rick Blaine, owner of Rick’s a popular club in Casablanca (Morocco) a port city known for exporting anti-Nazi resistence spies. But Rick’s there because he’s escaped his own persecution in other parts of the world, as well as a failed relationship with his former fling. Once burned twice shy, now ‘he sticks his neck out for nobody.’

Then, of all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world, in walks Isla Lund (Bergman), his former flame with her Residence hero husband Victor Laszlo (Henreid), looking to buy letters of transit which would send them abroad in safety. The Nazi thug Major Strasser (Veidt) and the Casablanca chief of police Capt Renault (Rains) know this and tries to intercept. With Rick in the middle, and torn between his rekindled love affair and his innate desire to fight against oppression, he’s forced to make a crucial decision, leave with Ilsa or give up the letters to Laszlo. This decision,  choose selfishg love, or sacrifice for the good of the world, becomes one of cinema’s great surprise endings.
Plenty of analysis has done on Julius and Philip Epstein’s legendary screenplay. It’s perhaps rivalled only by Chinatown for it’s structural perfection, like the Parthanon of screenplays. Michael Curtiz’s direction is even sharper and to the point. Watch his editing, and punctuation scenes, his brilliant montage scenes and pacing of action. The opening sequence is magnificence, powered by the pulsing Max Steiner score, Curtiz throws us into the fast paced, multi-cultural world of urban Casablanca. Few films kickstart with a better bang than this.

Curtiz's mastery of the visual cinema language is on the level of all the revered masters of the era – Ford, Welles and Hitchcock. His camerawork is unmistakable. The master of the dolly shot, but always motivated  by the movement of his actors. But since Curtiz loved to move his camera, it meant his actors were constantly in motion, criss crossing the frame in the foreground and background to create the elaborate choreography on screen. His lighting represents the best of early studio noir. His use of shadows is a hallmark as well – often framing the shadows of his characters to convey the secretic world of the covert activities.

The awesome new Warner Blu-Ray boxset commemorating the 70th Anniversary of the film is chock full of goodness. In fact before even before I popped in the Blu-Ray of the actual film I watched the accompanying documentary: Michael Curtiz: The Best Director You’ve Never Heard Of. The comprehensive chronicle of his career confirms everything I love about the man, his artistic triumphs as well as his gruff cantankerous personality. The testimonial of Steven Spielberg alone, who owes as much to Curtiz as he does to Ford, is perhaps the greatest compliment to the man.

Casablanca 70th Anniversary Box Set is available on Blu-Ray from Warner Home Entertainment

I also suggest going through Michael Curtiz's great body of work to discover some great films made in the style of Casablanca, such as:

Angels With Dirty Faces (1938)
Yankee Doodle Dandy (1942)
The Sea Hawk (1940)
Mildred Pierce (1945)
The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938)
The Sea Wolf (1941)
Flamingo Road (1949)
Young Man With a Horn (1950)

Mildrid Pierce (1945) dir. Michael Curtiz
Starring: Joan Crawford, Ann Blyth, Jack Carlson, Zachary Scott, Eve Arden

****

By Alan Bacchus

This is a depressing story of monumental proportions but not less involving and exciting, an ambitious and epic story really of a woman fighting to find dignity and independence and to protect her family from the ravages of life, yet is undone and thwarted by that very thing she’s tried so hard to protect.

The opening is wonderfully noirish, hardboiled as it comes. The first shot features Pierce’s husband being shot and killed in violent hail of bullets. Then a taut chase sequence around the house wherein Mildred Pierce is aprehended by the police for murder. During the nightlong interrogation, the film flashes back to chart the course of events which would lead to this fateful night.

Back in the past we see Pierce first as a devoted wife, doing her expected duty, always in the kitchen and being a mother to her kids. Her husband, Bert, though is a lazy layabout, jobless and who takes advantage of Mildred’s fierceness. She can’t take it anymore though and they split up, with her taking custody of their two children Veda and Kay. Pierce enters survival mode and uses her determination and persevance to work her way up from a lowly dishwasher and waitress eventually to owning a chain of restaurants. Three men continually revolve around her life, her ex-husband, her real estate manager and her new playboy beau. While her career is on track, dutifully working to provide for her kids, Veda over time develops a taste for money and class. Unfortunately Veda continually puts down her mother for stooping to working in the classless restaurant business as opposed to gold digging for a rich husband – a conflict which dissolves Pierce’s lifetime of hardwork and resulting in tragic consequences.

Though it can feel slightly hackneyed, looking back on the history of Hollywood, Mildred Pierce is a socio-cultural time capsule, and a forerunner to the popular and influential ‘women’s pictures of the 50’s, and perhaps even feminism of the 60’s and 70’s. Remember it was 1945, the second World War just finished, families had barely started to move out to the suburbs and women had barely begun to seek out their independence. And so Mildred Pierce should be as a heroic figure, which makes her fate at the end of the picture so devastating.

Historical context aside it’s also a crackerjack piece of cinema, typically crisp and punchy direction from Michael Curtiz, my favourite of all the old studio directors. Curtiz was a master of pacing. Watch the restaurant scene which establishes the fast-paced hustle of Pierce’s stint as a waitress and thus the urgency of her goals. Curtiz was also a master of montage scenes which compresses time so perfectly. Curtiz opens his scenes with close-ups, often pulling his camera back to reveal the establishing shot - a dynamic and modern technique which feels thoroughly modern.

And then there’s his camera movement. Few directors ever used a dolly or crane better than Curtiz. In a biography of Curtiz, Bette Davis, a frequent actress of his, once complained that Curtiz would watch his dolly during the shots more than the actors. But Curtiz never had an unmotivated camera move, and everything in Mildred Pierce is motivated by the actors, and by Joan Crawford in particular. Her performance is so commanding and powerful she deserved won her only Oscar as Best Actress.

White Christmas (1954) dir. Michael Curtiz
Starring; Bing Crosby, Danny Kaye, Rosemary Clooney, Vera-Ellen

**

By Alan Bacchus

Irving Berlin’s song ‘White Christmas’ is an endearing classic – cited by many music sources as the best selling single of all time. The song was recorded by Bing Crosby and released in 1941 and even appeared in the Bing Crosby starrer ‘Holiday Inn’ that same year. But in 1954, Paramount fashioned the single as well as a number of other Berlin songs into the lavish Vistavision Technicolor musical.

Unfortunately, the success of the song not withstanding, the film is a drab and overlong tepid musical, with aging stars and an aging director. It’s a lengthy two hour buddy picture depicting the professional relationship of two old war buddies Bob Wallace (Crosby) and Phil Davis (Kaye) who become a song and dance act. The duo get tricked into auditioning a sister act Betty and Judy (Clooney and Vera-Ellen). Though Bob is resistant Phil who quickly falls in love head over heals lobbies to take them on.

The foursome then retreat to a chalet in Vermont to relax and ‘enjoy’ each other’s company. But when the hotel manager turns out to be Bob and Phil’s old army General, now a shadow of his former authoritative self, the foursome engineer a massive televised musical jamboree featuring the famous titular song to raise his spririts.

Michael Curtiz (‘Casablanca’ ‘The Sea Hawk’, ‘Angels Have Dirty Faces’) is one of my favourite directors, but by 1954, he was long past his prime and it shows. For a musical, his camerawork is surprisingly stodgy and inert. Of course, Curtiz was not known for musicals other than his classic ‘Yankee Doodle Dandy’ which is less a traditional musical than a showcase for the singular singing and dancing talents of James Cagney.

To his credit, Curtiz does not have much to work with here and there is no one of the caliber of Cagney to support the material. His two stars are as dull as dishwater. Bing Crosby, 49 at the time of the making of the picture, shows his age. Sure Bing was a great crooner, but as a romantic lead, he was just too short, and knobby eared even in his youth for him to carry a picture. His costar Danny Kaye, well… never was the most masculine of actors, and thus is miscast as the handsome swooning romantic.

And so their two leading ladies Rosemary Clooney and Vera-Ellen look like poor spinsters suffering under a false arranged marriage. Looking back into the history of the film, it seemed to originate as a vehicle for Fred Astaire and Bing Crosby to reunite. If this was the case, then Bing would have had the chops of Astaire to rely upon. Unfortunately Astaire was even older than Bing and so, in 1954 that wouldn’t have worked either. A young Donald O’Connor, on the other hand, was at one point tapped for the Danny Kaye role, which would have been ideal.

Other than the ‘let’s put on a show’ motivations, the underlying theme of the film is the loyalty and camaraderie formed by men in battle. The opening musical sequence is a somber reflection on war and the contrast of our humanistic inner emotions and the horrors of battle. In the end the duo, though now successful and famous, still are subordinate and penitent to their army superiors. The depiction of the General in civilian mode is perhaps meant to remind society of the heroism these ordinary people in society once did for their country and to heed us not to forget these sacrifices.

That’s about the only redeeming theme to take from this indigestible and dated musical.

A 2-Disc Special Edition of White Christmas” is available on DVD from Paramount Pictures Home Entertainment

Flamingo Road (1949) dir. Michael Curtiz
Starring: Joan Crawford, Sidney Greenstreet, Zachary Scott

***1/2

"She can handle her job, make a whiskey sour and cook bacon, crisp. A man's gotta know more about a girl like that."

“Flamingo Road” is terrific Hollywood melodrama. The studio system at its best - a top notch director (Curtiz) with one of the best-ever leading ladies (Crawford) reuniting after 1945's "Mildred Pierce". The film is about female empowerment in a sexist age of specifically-defined domestic and gender roles. It’s an engrossing story of a girl from the wrong side of the tracks who fights prejudice and sexism as she moves up into high society and the corrupt world of American State politics.

Joan Crawford plays Lane Bellamy, a wearied and weathered girl who dances in a two-bit traveling carnival. When the carnival can’t pay its debts, like usual, it packs up and quickly moves out of town. But this is one too many times for Lane. She’s been on the road her whole life, and wants to stay in the quaint Southern town. She meets local deputy Fielding Carlyle and falls in love. The big boss in town is the larger than life Sheriff Titus Semple (Sidney Greenstreet). He resents Lane’s presence in the town and her stubbornness to stay fuels his impassionated hatred of her. Through backdoor deals, Titus has plans to get Fielding into the state Senate. He engineers Fielding’s breakup with Lane and gets her unlawfully imprisoned for prostitution.

Lane is strong and survives her prison sentence. When she’s out and returns to town, with an even greater determination to make an honest living. While waitressing for a local high society social club she meets and courts local influential business owner, Dan Reynolds – a man of equal if not greater stature than Titus. Lane’s finally makes it onto “Flamingo Road”, the local street symbolic of respectable society, only to face off against Titus once again. Lane, Reynolds, Titus and Carlyle rekindle their battles in the political ring where the consequences will be deadly.

Joan Crawford carries the film like few can. When we first see her as an exotic bellydancer, she looks out of place in age and culture. She’s a survivor, a tough broad who lives paycheck to paycheck and has never been able to plant roots anywhere. It all shows on her face. Crawford was 44 when the film was made, and though the role was likely written for a 25 year old, it needed someone with both innocence and toughness to pull it off. All of that is etched in Crawford’s course face. Her big saucer eyes are the innocence and her crows feet are the toughness.

Titus Semple is an equally meaty role and the great character actor Sidney Greenstreet (“Casablanca” and “The Maltese Falcon”) fills the shoes well. Titus is one cinema’s great bad guys. He’s like Iago in “Othello” – behind the scenes politicking his way through the world to get what he wants. His shear size commands a room but he also has the subtle skills and confidence to intimidate and control people to do his bidding.

Michael Curtiz directs with his usual panache. His great choreography, editing and efficiency with his narrative make this plot-heavy film a fast-paced breeze. Max Steiner’s music, as always, emphatically hits the melodramatic beats with the right mood. Viewers unaccustomed to the style of filmmaking at the time may be distracted by the overdramatization and on-the-nose dialogue, but despite this there’s a lot of significant and important subtext going on.

The film has a lot to say about class and sexism. As a drifter and a woman without any discernable talent or skills, Lane has very little chance of achieving any kind of success. But she’s a woman of the world, with a decent heart, who genuinely falls in love with Reynolds. She doesn’t manipulate him or deceive him into marrying her. And when she finally makes it to “Flamingo Road” she never exploits it. She always knows where she came from and is grateful for everything she has.

I do think the ending cops out though. With her husband in Titus’ political grasp and about to be sent to prison, Lane takes the matters into her own hands to save him. We want the street-smart Lane to use Titus’ own weapons or vulnerabilities against him, instead she resorts to the “gun” to solve the problem. By resorting to this easy device, the film demeans everything Lane has earned from us. In the end though she does sacrifice herself, and goes to prison for her husband which, considering the time and place the film was made, is a shocking anti-type role reversal.

“Flamingo Road” not only empowers women at a time when domestic roles were classically defined, it’s an example of a great studio picture that entertains and send us a positive message. Unfortunately it’s not available on DVD, but hopefully soon Warner Bros will take it out of its library for us to rediscover. Enjoy.

Angels With Dirty Faces (1938) dir. Michael Curtiz
Starring: James Cagney, Pat O’Brien, Humphrey Bogart, Ann Sheridan

****

Michael Curtiz is one of my favourite directors, and arguably the consummate studio director – a filmmaker who made lean, polished and fast paced films with little fat or excess. And “Angels With Dirty Faces” is one of those. It’s a classic Warner Bros. gangster film, with Jimmy Cagney at his maniacal best.

Cagney and O’Brien play Rocky Sullivan and Jerry Connolly, childhood friends who we first see in their youth as petty criminals. When Rocky is caught stealing by the police and Jerry gets away their lives divide in two separate paths. Rocky goes to juvie prison and then becomes a hardened gangster, Jerry joins the church and becomes a Catholic priest. When Rocky gets out of prison they rekindle their friendship for the first time in 14 years. Rocky befriends a group of n’er-do-well orphaned street kids (played by a group of young actors billed as “The Dead End Kids”). He has a knack for discipline with the rambunctious punks and so Jerry is accepting of Rocky’s presence.

But Rocky is still knee-deep in organized crime. He takes up with his former partner, James Frazier (Humphrey Bogart) and the new boss in town, Max Keefer (George Bancroft). Rocky’s presence threatens Frazier and Keefer’s new business and they conspire to cut him out of his share of the money he’s owed.

Meanwhile, when the kids start idolizing Rocky as their hero, Jerry decides to personally fight against the mob influence in his neighbourhood, effectively pitting himself against his best friend. Their bond of loyalty and friendship is challenged up until the very end when Rocky is on death row. With only his pride and his reputation left, Jimmy asks Rocky to relinquish that to prevent the kids of the street from martyring Rocky and ruining their future lives as descent citizens. The ending packs an emotional wallop and stands up to any film ever made.

“Angels With Dirty Faces” was made before “Casablanca” but by 1938 he had already proven himself with “Captain Blood”, The Adventures of Robin Hood” and “Charge of the Light Brigade”. He was a master with his camera and could choreograph and shoot action sequences better than anyone. But his skill with character is on display here. Cagney is magnetic as Rocky. He reads his dialogue with razor-sharp intensity. He’s charismatic and confident, and for the kids, someone to look up to as a former street kid. O’Brien plays his character not so much as a scripture-quoting Priest, but a pragmatic counselor who knows his way around the streets. Even when Rocky and Jerry are on opposite sides of the law the mutual respect for one another is always present. This makes Rocky’s final moments so powerful. And watch how Curtiz carefully shoots Rocky in this moment – in shadow only – an effective and brilliant directorial choice.

Curtiz gives the film some grand scope as well. Look at the opening shot which pans across the New York tenement showing hundreds of people on the street going about their usual day (reminiscent of the establishment of ‘Casablanca’). The action is taut and exciting, especially the final gunfight. As always Curtz knows how to move his camera at the right time to maximize pace, drama and emotion. Watch how he enters scenes as well, often framing a close-up and pulling to find actors and start the scene. It’s a modern technique we don’t notice now, but at the time was actually innovative. And his montage scenes are impressive and technically complex as well - overlapping and superimposing dozens of images to condense time.

The film is also dated in many respects. Rocky is tough, very tough, on the kids in the neighbourhood. The basketball game is almost laughable how Rocky literally slaps the kids into submission. Rocky’s courtship of his girlfriend Laury (girl-next-door alluring, Ann Sheridan) is just misogynistic, cruel and well, definitely not politically correct.

But despite some datedness, “Angels With Dirty Faces” is still a remarkably dramatic character study, with some terrific action in as well. After all it is a gangster film. The scenes with Cagney and Bogart (before he was a star) are worth the price of admission as well – two of the best actors of their day shouting tough gangster dialogue at each other – what else do you need? You can see how much this film was an influence on Martin Scorsese’s “The Departed”. Enjoy.

Buy it here: Angels With Dirty Faces

Unfortunately no youtube clips exist.