A black-and-white film that paints every shade of emotion for its viewers, Casablanca is a love saga about people who truly know how to love.
Set during World War II, the film’s unique backdrop lays bare every facet of the human soul—from utter cruelty to boundless compassion. The essence of humanity remains a captivating question for any heart drawn to reflection and contemplation.
But let’s set reason aside for a moment and step onto the dreamy shores of Casablanca. Here, we witness a love story between people—and between a person and their ideals.
Rick’s World
The tale follows Rick, owner of a café that doubles as a bar and casino. With a stony face, a past in arms dealing, and a motto of staying out of others’ business, he stands utterly independent. Entering Rick’s café means stepping into his domain—where everyone, no matter their status in bustling Casablanca, must play by his rules.
When Ugarte—a murderer living by his wits—brings Rick two transit papers (trusting him alone because Rick doesn’t hide his disdain), Rick draws even more eyes. Military officers, businessmen, and desperate souls itching to flee Casablanca for America’s freedom all take notice.
Love’s Echo
With his seasoned grit, this steely man stays ahead of every twist—until the notes of “As Time Goes By” drift from Sam, the pianist.
Sam wouldn’t touch that tune without Ilsa Lund’s request. A beautiful woman with soulful eyes, she’s the unforgettable romance from Rick’s Paris days—a memory that’s faded but never left him.
Unlike modern films, there’s no nostalgic montage of joy, sorrow, or squabbles leading to a triumphant reunion. Rick still loves Ilsa. Ilsa remembers Rick and still loves Victor Laszlo—her revolutionary husband. Together, they’ve come to Casablanca, seeking passage to America to evade the Nazis.
As Rick puts it: “Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine.”
Reuniting with Ilsa and her husband, Rick’s guarded heart cracks open, just as police chief Louis Renault always suspected. Beneath his tough shell burns a fierce mix of love and pain.
That black-and-white scene of Rick drinking alone in his café late at night hits hard. It’s not just the act of pouring and sipping to show his mood—his loneliness seeps through every quiet motion, framed against the monochrome blend of past and present.
“Play it, Sam. Play ‘As Time Goes By.’”
The melody revives those golden Paris days with Ilsa. Rick lived love fully then—pure, unquestioning, free of doubt. They knew little about each other, making their feelings all the more real. But when rain fell at the train station, and Rick waited for Ilsa to flee with him to Casablanca, her note—delivered by Sam—marked the true end of their romance.
Sometimes, leaving things unsaid makes them clearer, easier to grasp—especially in love. Explaining it might strip away the beauty we imagine.
Rick isn’t sentimental enough to keep that rain-soaked note. He tosses it aside, carrying only the emptiness it leaves behind for years to come.
The Crossroads
Ironically, Ilsa and Victor now desperately need the transit papers Rick holds. For a lovesick fool, the choice is simple; for a man, it’s agonizing. Hand Victor over to Nazi officer Strasser and Renault, and Rick could have everything—safely.
Some people, it seems, are born to shun the easy path. Rick’s one of them.
This haughty, devil-may-care boss helps a young couple he barely knows win at his casino, giving them cash to bribe Renault. Before leaving to act on his choice, he ensures his loyal staff are taken care of. A man smitten, he still helps the woman he loves escape with her husband.
He’s not noble, but he knows Ilsa belongs with Victor—her spark fuels his grand cause, bigger than the three of them. Rick gets Ilsa, no matter what she says or does, gazing at her with tender familiarity: “Look at you, kid.”
In a playful modern twist, Rick could be a “Sugar Daddy.” But he’d never cheapen himself or turn love into a transaction. As said, he’s not one for easy handouts. He’s no saint, but he’s a man with conviction. Ilsa’s no “Sugar Baby” either—she knows her heart, who she truly loves.
Little Ilsa teaches Rick to love like a boy, hurt like a young man, and act like a grown one. Though it stings, he wants her and Victor to find happiness and fulfill their greater purpose.
One day, as Ilsa boards that night flight, Rick’s image might flicker in her mind. His last words, her final echo from him: “We’ll always have Paris.”
A New Dawn
After shooting Strasser and earning Renault’s cover, Rick strolls off with him, saying, “Louis, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”
Maybe Rick’s tombstone will one day read: “Lived, loved, and saw everything through clear eyes.”
Conclusion
If you patiently give Casablanca your time, you’ll see black-and-white films hold their own against color. The blend of dark and light crafts a gray that mirrors humanity and circumstance with striking truth.
Without flashy sound, lighting, effects, or graphics, black-and-white films lean on depth, meticulous scripts, sharp dialogue, and raw acting. A film that fits life just right is a triumph.
After watching, revisit “As Time Goes By” or “Casablanca” to savor a touch of nostalgia. Films don’t often wrap up like novels with an epilogue.
