I guess it goes without saying that as far as classics go, I find this much more enjoyable than Citizen Kane, mainly because I can watch this one without wanting to sock the main character in the face (sorry, Orson Welles). However, watching the two films virtually back-to-back (if you consider the fact that I didn’t watch any other movies between the two screenings “watching them back-to-back”) gave me new perspective on both films. I'm not saying Citizen Kane sucks--far from it--but I noticed things about both films that I hadn't thought of before.
First of all, the direction—and by extension the acting—seems much more refined in Casablanca. Not that the acting in Citizen Kane sucks, because there are some incredible performances Citizen Kane, but in some (and by some, I mean a lot) scenes, Orson Welles seems like a loose cannon, which can take away from the believability. I’d be inclined to think that this is mostly because the director of Casablanca wasn’t trying to play the lead role of the film as well. I know from experience that it’s difficult to direct and play a major character at the same time—not impossible by any stretch, but definitely a challenge, and not something that any sane person would recommend doing for a director’s first feature film.
In Casablanca, you identify with the characters. The Hollywood Production Code was clearly worried about that, because they insisted on the film ending with Ilsa going with her husband—but the audience can at least understand her motives, even if they don’t necessarily agree with her actions. Yes, she commits adultery, but at the time of her affair she doesn’t realize that she is cheating. Same for Rick—is it a slight shock when he shoots Major Strasser at the end? Yes, but he is doing it so two innocent people can escape to safety. Can we understand why Ilsa is torn between two men? I can. The film is set up in a way that allows us to feel sympathy for both her husband and her lover, without taking away the element of competition between the two men.
In class we discussed the idea of Welles being a “kid in a candy shop” on the set of Citizen Kane, a concept that is thrown into even sharper relief when compared to the subtlety of Casablanca. Last week in my journal, I talked about how the moods of the characters in Citizen Kane are demonstrated via dramatic lighting and cinematography. Casablanca, by contrast, does not rely exclusively on lights, sets, and camera angles to tell the story. Because the directing is more refined, the lighting can set the mood and then allow the characters to take over the scene, rather than being the driving force behind the scene.
I’m thinking of the scene where Ilsa explains herself to Rick and they make up. The lighting is immaculate—the room is dimly lit, clearly meant to be dark, but it’s not so dark or so heavily shadowed that you can’t see the actors’ faces during the emotionally tense scene. Same for the ending—it’s dark outside, it’s definitely nighttime, and it works for the tone of the scene because it’s definitely a bittersweet end, but the lighting is meant to highlight the performances rather than carry the entire scene. In some films, like Citizen Kane, the lighting is as much of a character as the actors, and in some films that works—but the lighting in Casablanca helps the actors subtly manipulate the audience’s emotions. Overall with Casablanca I get a sense of maturity and consistency. There is drama, but it doesn’t cross over into full-on melodrama, and I think that’s mainly because of the strong direction, strong performances, and subtly artistic lighting and camerawork.
