![]() ![]() It all starts with the opening sequence: the film begins with a shot of a map of Africa. ![]() Not only are their stories worth knowing, telling them is part of a long-in-the-making overcoming of the twentieth century as a collective screen memory. In Michael Rothberg’s words, “The displacement that takes place in screen memory (indeed, all memory) functions as much to open up lines of communication with the past as to close them off.” Casablanca’s “same old story” about a “fight for love and glory” told on screens big and small, provides an opportunity to think over those other stories of encounters and connections between individuals whose paths crossed in the aftermath of the Spanish Civil War (1936–1939) and during World War II. Yet screen memories not only conceal the past they may also provide access to it. Sigmund Freud coined the term screen memories (from, the German Deckerinnerungen) in 1899: these are recollections that take the place of other more significant and often traumatic memories. The film’s production wrapped in August of 1942, and while its opening in the United States coincided with the Allied invasion of North Africa in the same year, World War II and the massive displacements it caused were far from over.Ĭasablanca is a fictional account, but it has become the most recognizable “screen memory” of the escape and exile routes of World War II. At that point Rick voices one of the movie’s most quoted lines: “Louis, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”Īs the men walk into the early morning fog (an unlikely phenomenon in Morocco), their bond may have been beautiful, but it was also as uncertain as the war’s outcome and their future. Shortly before the closing credits roll, Rick Blaine and Captain Louis Renault (Claude Rains) ponder their next move: joining the resistance in the Congolese city of Brazzaville, where Charles de Gaulle had established the capital of Free France. My new book, Unexpected Routes: Refugee Writers in Mexico, tells some of the stories that, in a sense, begin where Casablanca ends. The fates of some of the fortunate, and of many of the unfortunate ones, along these routes are not always remembered, as they belong to “the early history of our current political and moral failures,” contained within a “largely untouched archive.” ![]() Refugees indeed escaped Europe via Lisbon and North Africa, yet there were many other routes, equally tortuous and roundabout. But the others wait in Casablanca and wait, and wait and wait.” Thus “a torturous roundabout refugee trail sprang up.” The trail extended “from Paris to Marseille, across the Mediterranean to Oran, then by train, by auto, or by foot across the rim of Africa to Casablanca in French Morocco.” And there, “the fortunate ones through money or influence or luck, might obtain an exit visa and scurry to Lisbon. Yet not everybody could reach the Portuguese capital, as this entailed crossing Spain, then under Francisco Franco’s rule. We learn that, with the coming of the war, “many eyes in imprisoned Europe turned hopefully, or desperately, toward the freedom of the Americas.” Lisbon was “the great embarkation point.” Screen memories not only conceal the past they may also provide access to it.Ī voice, a path, a few images, and a map: these elements make up the opening credits of what may be the most popular story about refugees’ escape routes during World War II. The film does all this with certain Hollywood conventions, particularly its exotic setting that looks nothing like the place it is supposed to represent, given that Casablanca was shot entirely in Southern California, and leaving the fate of the world in the hands of two white and male heroes: resistance fighter Victor Laszlo (Paul Henreid) and American gin-joint owner Rick Blaine (Humphrey Bogart).Īnd yet, somehow, I remain fascinated by Casablanca, not so much because of the stories about love it may tell, but because of the many stories the film does not, cannot, or simply was not ready to tell. Casablanca reveals the attitudes that refugees fleeing from fascism had vis-à-vis racial structures brought about by centuries of conquests, occupations, and human trafficking. Casablanca may be a love story, or several love stories, but love is merely a backdrop to a much more interesting account about escape and survival. Over the years I have watched it countless times, and while the film was never longer than its 102-minute run, with every viewing it became increasingly complex. I indeed ended up loving the film and understanding very little of it. My parents assured my nine-year-old self that I would enjoy the movie about one of the greatest love stories ever told. The film was Michael Curtiz’s 1941 feature Casablanca. The first VCR my family ever owned came to us with a Betamax tape of a film recorded from television, commercials and all. ![]()
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