Classics on Trial: Debating the Enduring Power of Iconic Films, Albums, and Books

Ingrid Bergman filmed two different endings for Casablanca because nobody—not even the director—knew if Ilsa would end up with Rick or Laszlo until the very last minute. Just think about that. Last week, we were talking about the epic, almost pre-ordained tragedy of The Godfather. But Casablanca… it’s a masterpiece born from total chaos. They were writing the script as they were shooting it. Which might be my whole problem with it. I know I’m about to commit heresy here, but I have to ask: Is Casablanca truly a timeless classic, or is it just a beautifully preserved relic of a bygone era? Oh, it’s timeless. One hundred percent. The setting is 1942, but the themes are eternal. It’s about moral compromise. It's about cynicism melting in the face of real conviction. Rick Blaine’s journey from a man who "sticks his neck out for nobody" to someone who sacrifices everything for the cause...

that's a perfect character arc. I hear you on Rick's arc, but let's talk about Ilsa Lund. What’s her arc? She exists as a beautiful, tragic object for two men to make decisions about. Rick literally decides her entire future for her, puts her on a plane, and tells her she’ll regret it if she stays. She has no agency. That's fair, but you're applying a twenty-first-century lens to a 1940s film. Her lack of agency is part of the tragedy. The movie isn't about her choice—it's about Rick's. It's about him finally choosing to be the man he was before Paris, the man who fought for lost causes. Alright, I'll give you that one. It is about Rick's choice. But is that choice really as noble as we remember it? He's bitter, he's cruel to her when she first reappears. He gets drunk and calls her a vulture.

We forgive it because he’s Humphrey Bogart and he’s impossibly cool. But he earns his redemption! When he arranges for Victor Laszlo's escape, he's not just giving up the woman he loves. He's actively rejoining the fight against fascism. He’s enabling the leader of the Czech resistance to get back to work. It’s a profoundly political act dressed up as a romance. Is it, though? Or is it a profoundly romantic act dressed up as politics? The movie’s most famous line is, "the problems of three little people don't amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world." He's reducing their legitimate, world-shattering personal drama to a "hill of beans." Yes! Because the world was on fire! That's not a metaphor—it was literally World War Two. That line is the entire moral thesis of the movie.

It's saying that personal desire has to take a backseat when civilization itself is at stake. Okay, but consider this—what if the most heroic act would have been for Ilsa to tell both men to get lost and forge her own path? That's the movie we'd make today. And it would probably be a great movie. But it wouldn't be Casablanca. Its power comes from that very specific, very stark moral choice. It asks you to believe in something bigger than your own happiness. And I guess I’m just not sure we do anymore. Or at least, we're deeply skeptical of anyone who tells us we should. We’ve seen where that leads. I think we still want to. We still want to believe that people can be noble, that sacrifice means something. That's why we still watch it. That's why the ending, even with Bergman’s uncertainty, feels so perfect and so inevitable.

It’s the ending we need, even if it’s not the one we’d choose for ourselves. So the tension isn't really about whether the movie is good. It's about whether we can still accept its premise. That personal happiness isn't the ultimate goal. Exactly. He doesn't get the girl. He gets something else. He gets his soul back. Maybe. Or he gets a "beautiful friendship" with Captain Renault and a long, lonely life running a bar in the middle of nowhere. I suppose the real question isn't whether Rick made the right choice, but whether we can still imagine a world where it was the only choice to make.