as time goes by

More nostalgia, for it's the 75th anniversary of the Thanksgiving weekend release of "Casablanca," a film for all people and all seasons. I saw it for the first time, the first of many in the same venue, at the Brattle Theater in Cambridge, which had a Bogart festival during exam time. It was escapist; it was romantic; it was wonderful!  We all learned the lines, and looked for moments to drop them in casual conversation. And one year, when the much-repaired print failed to include Inspector Strasser's "Round up the usual suspects," we howled and complained enough that the management stopped the show until a proper print could be found.

I wonder whether younger people feel the same emotions, whether they hope Ingrid Bergman makes a different choice, whether they tear up when Madeleine LeBeau [who died only last year]
sings "La Marseillaise," whether they still laugh at Claude Raines' shock at discovering gambling at Rick's Cafe. Yes, the story was a bit silly and wartime propaganda was shoehorned into it. It's revealing, however, that most of the cast were emigres from the troubles of Europe.

The film drove me to be sure to visit modern Casablanca on my first visit to Africa. The city, of course, was nothing like the Warner Brothers lot, and never had been. But ti was still exciting to be there and to think of the allied invasion the same month as the movie's release.

I've read most of the insider stories about its filming. Can't get enough, but I know I must remember this.