#28 . . . "Casablanca": The Best Movie to Watch on the Fourth of July

There’s never been a question in my mind that Casablanca, the movie that captured the Best Picture award at the 1944 Oscars, is unquestionably the best film of all time. Period. I have also long believed that it contains the single-most emotional and patriotic 2 minutes in the history of motion pictures: to wit, the scene where the Czech freedom-fighter Victor Laszo (actor Paul Henreid) leads the in-house orchestra and all the escapees from Hitler’s Germany in the playing and singing of La Marseilles, in stunning counterpoint, drowning out the Nazis officers’ singing of Die Wacht am Rhein (“Watch on the Rhein”) at “Rick’s” café. At one point, the camera focuses on Yvonne, Rick’s former girlfriend/mistress (played by French actress Madelaine Lebeau) who has a real, honest-to-God tear rolling down her cheek while she sings her country’s National Anthem. As a result of this one scene, she forever became the face of the French Resistance.

There can be no question that her tears were real and not the product of typical movie magic - spraying either glycerin or menthol into the eyes. In matter of fact, most everyone in that scene - the vast majority of whom were (mostly Jewish) escapees from Hitler’s Third Reich felt overwhelmed during its filming. Ironically, Conrad Veidt, the Berlin-born actor who played the utterly detestable Major Heinrich Strasser likely felt it more than most. A virulent anti-Nazi, the well-known actor (The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, The Man Who Laughs) claimed on both his c.v. and his German exit visa that he was Jewish . . . as a sign of solidarity to his Jewish-born wife, Lily Prager. He would die the year after Casablanca’s release from a sudden heart attack while playing golf in Los Angeles; today, his ashes are interred in a niche of the columbarium at the Golders Green Crematorium in North London, the most Jewish section of that great city.

In real life, Mme. Lebeau (that’s her, above) was married to fellow actor Marcel Dalio (born Israel Moshe Blauschild) who played the croupier Emil, the man who handed handed Capt. Renault (Claude Raines) his casino winnings just 5 seconds after announcing “I’m shocked! Simply shocked to find out that there’s gambling going on here.” At one point before fleeing Vichy-era France, the Germans, who had found some publicity stills of Dalio, displayed them throughout the city with the caption 'a typical Jew' so that citizens could more easily report anyone suspected of unrepentant Jewishness. Eerily following one of Casablanca’s major plotlines, Dalio and Lebeau fled Vichy and made their way to Portugal, where eventually, they wound up in Hollywood. Sadly, they divorced the year after Casablanca won the Oscar, and she made her way back to France at war’s end. She would die in Malaga, Spain, in 2016, the film’s last surviving credited cast member.

Let’s spend 2 minutes watching this most heartfelt scene. To this day - and after a minimum of 175 viewings, it still brings tears to my eyes:

As with most national anthems, La Marseillaise speaks to the proudest, most patriotic and courageous emotions within the Gallic genome. The first of its seven verses and refrain are sung in Casablanca.

Allons enfants de la patrie, Let's go children of the fatherland

Le jour de gloire est arrivé!   The day of glory has arrived!
Contre nous de la tyrannie Against us tyranny's
L'étendard sanglant est levé ! (bis)   Bloody flag is raised! (repeat)
Entendez-vous dans les campagnes, In the countryside, do you hear
Mugir ces féroces soldats ? The roaring of these fierce soldiers?
Ils viennent jusque dans nos bras   They come right to our arms
Égorger nos fils, nos compagnes! To slit the throats of our sons, our friends!

Refrain:

Aux armes, citoyens ! Grab your weapons, citizens!
Formez vos bataillons !   Form your battalions!
Marchons ! Marchons !   Let us march! Let us march!
Qu'un sang impur   May impure blood
Abreuve nos sillons ! Water our fields!

As originally intended by the film’s producers, Hal B. Wallace and Jack L. Warner, La Marseillaise was supposed to be sung in counterpoint to Die Horst Wessel, the barely 12-year old anthem of the Third Reich. (In comparison, La Marseillaise had been written in 1792). Horst Wessel was a young Nazi who was shot in 1930, and shortly thereafter made into a martyr for the “state that would last for no less than 1,000 years.” The Warner Bros. legal department soon learned that the copyright to “Horst Wessel” was controlled by a German publisher. If they used the song, the studio would be able to show Casablanca in countries at war with Germany, but copyright restrictions would make it impossible to show the film in neutral countries, which included most of South America. And so, Warners decided to replace Die Horst Wessel with a far, far older song, Die Wacht am Rhein, the singing of which went totally against the principles of the Nazi Party.

The Watch on the Rhine: The Horst Wessel
The cry resounds like thunder's peal, The flag is high, our ranks are closed

Like crashing waves and clang of steel: The S.A. marches with silent solid steps.

The Rhine, the Rhine, our German Rhine, Comrades shot by the red front and reaction

Who will defend our stream, divine? March in spirit with us in our ranks.

Dear fatherland, no fear be thine, The street is free for the brown battalions)

Dear fatherland, no fear be thine, The street is free for the Storm Troopers.

Firm and True stands the Watch, the Watch at the Rhine! Millions full of hope, look at our swastika

Firm and True stands the Watch, the Watch at the Rhine! The day breaks for freedom and for bread

They stand, a hundred thousand strong, For the last time the call will now be sounded

Quick to avenge their country's wrong, Soon will fly Hitler’s banners over every street

With filial love their bosoms swell Our slavery will last only a short time longer They shall guard the sacred landmark well. The flag is high, our ranks are closed

At the 100th anniversary of the Eiffel Tower in 1989, the great French chanteuse Mireille Mathieu, accompanied by a full orchestra and chorus, sang the French National Anthem at the statue’s base. According to reports at the time, "Mathieu sang the anthem of France so grandly and shrewdly that tears welled up across the country, many patriotic citizens even needed medical treatment." Ten years later, she was awarded the Medal of the French Legion of Honor. I share it with you to give but a small impression of what kinds of emotion can raised and felt on a day like today:

The average American citizen, I would imagine, only hears - let alone sings - the Star Spangled Banner at the beginning of sporting events. And then, as the last few words are about to be sung the crowd begins to cheer . . . not so much for the spirit of the anthem, but for the future victory of their home team. And as for our national heroes - Washington, Jefferson, Franklin and Lincoln - they are trotted out as spokespeople for sales campaigns rather than as symbols of our ideals. Whenever I feel the need to reach some sort of emotional climax on the 4th of July, I watch anew the great musical 1776, and marvel at how this country came into being. For as with a classic motion picture - such as Casablanca, the greatest of them all - its success is the more the product of its numerous close encounters with failure, than the absolute genius of its creators.

One of the things that has always drawn me to watching Casablanca on the Fourth of July is the incredibly emotional, patriotic vision it gives to one of its central characters: The United States of America. For to the refugees and émigrés of that North African city, America is a refuge . . . man’s last, greatest hope . . . the land of the open arms and willing hearts. One gets the sense that those who manage to escape Casablanca and finally land at Ellis Island, they will become wonderful, grateful additions to the American family. It is an image - and a reality - which is at root, the very meaning of the Fourth of July.

Yes, we are truly blessed to be citizens, residents, refugees or asylees of this great nation. But at the same time, our blessings should never be taken for granted . . . especially in times like these when there are growing segments of the nation who do not consider those who have different opinions, different heroes and heroines or different backgrounds to be traitors, deviants or even worse. Our motto, so far as I recall, has long E Pluribus Unam, which is Latin for "Out of many (comes) one.” Alas, for so many of our fellow citizens - especially those who haven’t the slightest idea of what our national motto is . . . let alone where it comes from - this nation is not (in the words of Woody Guthrie) "made for you and me.” How sad it is that when it comes to observing the Fourth of July, we are no longer memorializing or drinking a toast to the same nation as others.

Ironically, many of us of a certain age were considered "Communists,” "Socialists” or "Anarchists” a half-century ago when we wore our hair long, went without bras and, as the terminology of the day had it "let our freak flags fly.” Today, I consider our ilk - now in our sixties and seventies - to be far more patriotic, more in tune with the historic purpose of America, than those who seek to delimit freedom, see enemies behind every crack and crevice, and reread history to the point that it suits their dishonorable purposes. I for one would love nothing more than tearing up whenever I hear the Star Spangled Banner, like I do when La Marseillaise is sung at Cafe Rick’s in Casablanca, circa 1942.

Undoubtedly, that is the main reason why I watch it every Fourth of July.