Bogart's lines are good - many of them are practically aphorisms of rugged individualism - but, beginning with her seductive "Got a match?" entrance, most of the real classics belong to Lauren Bacall. Watching jealously as Bogart carries off an unconscious woman, Lauren growls, "What are you trying to do - guess her weight?" After a prolonged "duel" in Bogart's hotel room, she is leaving for her own room across the hall. On the way out the door she tells him hoarsely, "If you want anything, just whistle. You know how to whistle, don't you, Steve. You just put your lips together and blow."
Only 19 when "To Have and Have Not" was filmed, it was Lauren Bacall's first movie role. Her performance must be among the most impressive, if not the most skillful, debuts in Hollywood history. Bogart (45 at the time) was impressed. He married her six months after the film was released.
Feb. 1-2-3: "Casablanca" (1942), of course, is the sentimental favorite of Bogart fans everywhere. Originally intended as just another propagandistic war-time melodrama, its appearance in theaters across the country coincided fortuitously with the allied invasion of North Africa, and with such unprecedented quantities of free publicity, the film soon acquired a large and devoted following. It's not hard to see why.
Hero Rick Blaine (Bogart) is an aloof Casablanca cafe proprietor, an idealization of the self-willed outcast, who is sometimes pressed into exerting an ordering influence on his hopelessly muddled environment. A former freedom fighter in Spain and Ethiopia, for some reason unable to return to his native United States, Blaine has become wary of involvement--"I stick my neck out for nobody"--and is resigned to die in Casablanca - "It's a good place for it."
We learn through a misty-eyed flashback that Blaine had fallen in love in Paris with a beautiful Norwegian girl (Ingrid Bergman) just before the German occupation, and was jilted on the day they planned to escape together. She turns up in Casablanca with famed underground leader Victor Laszlo (Paul Henreid), who is looking for two letters of transit so they can escape to America and he can continue "his work." Blaine has gotten hold of the letters from underground agent Ugarte (Peter Lorre) but vindictively refuses to give them up. The situation is complicated by the intervention of a corrupt Vichy police commissioner (Claude Raines), a rival cafe owner (Sydney Greenstreet), and an evil German officer (Conrad Veidt, Warner Brothers' standby Nazi villain). But, at last, Blaine decides to do the "noble" thing, and he sees that everything works out well, if not happily.
From a detached viewpoint it's clear that "Casablanca" often wallows in second-rate humor and cheap sentimentality of the "Our Song" variety ("Play it again, Sam"). But, happily, it's easy to get in the mood for that sort of thing, and both Ingrid Bergman's charm and beauty, and Bogart's biting cynicism raise the film above the level of the ordinary gooey melodrama.
Even when he is reminiscing with Ingrid to the tune of "As Time Goes By" about the day she left him in Paris, Bogart manages to spit out such stinging lines as: "And there was a guy standing on the station platform in the rain with a funny look on his face 'cause his insides had just been kicked out.... Was it Laszlo you left me for, or were there others in between, or aren't you the kind that tells?"
Toward the end, Bogie's hard composure falters momentarily, "We'll always have Paris. We'd lost that until you came to Casablanca," but Claude Raines puts things back in perspective with the most often quoted line from any Bogart movie: "Round up the usual suspects."