(no subject)

[balletrat]

So Cooper says that every man has a secret longing to be Humphrey Bogart, *Meg announces, flopping backwards onto the bed as Andrew heads over to the DVD player.*

Is it true?

Comments

[stilljustandrew]

I don't know about every man, *says Andrew judiciously, sliding in the disc.*

[balletrat]

Well, *Meg persists, giggling,* do you?

Not that I've got any idea what Humphrey Bogart is like yet -

[stilljustandrew]

Why don't you wait and see first.

*He settles next to her and starts the movie playing.*

[balletrat]

Eh bien -

*Meg leans her head against his shoulder, watching the screen as a long shot of a revolving globe resolves into an animated map.*

[stilljustandrew]

Okay, see -- this is during World War II, and people are fleeing the Nazis to Casablanca because that's one of the only places you can still get out of, to America.

[balletrat]

I know, *Meg says, a little absently; her gaze is fixed on the screen, which now shows the city of Casablanca (or at least, as much of it as can be captured by a studio set).*

I read the history book, remember? Partly 'cause you told me about some of this before.

[stilljustandrew]

*There's the announcement about the murdered couriers, and scenes of Casablanca.*

*Andrew shifts position to lie on his stomach, propped up on his elbows to watch the movie.*

[balletrat]

*A man is shot.

The camera swoops up to an inscription - Liberte, Egalite, Fraternite - and Meg's eyes are suddenly a little sharper than they were before, even as the scene shifts to a trusting English couple who are, quite clearly, about to be conned.

The narration had said French Morroco, but she hadn't quite understood how French it would really be until now.*

[stilljustandrew]

*Andrew finishes the last of his sandwich as the Bulgarian couple looks wistfully at the plane soaring overhead, and then perks eagerly as Evil Major Strasser appears.*

Enter the bad guy.

[balletrat]

*Meg snickers.*

He's so - what's the word I'm looking for? - oh, that's right, German.

I like the other one, though.

[stilljustandrew]

So do I. Sh sh sh --

*"Everybody comes to Rick's," says Renault, and then they're inside, with the strains of 'It Had To Be You' on piano wafting through the room.*

[balletrat]

*Rick's has all the staples: a table, a piano, a bar, and a huge and varied clientele, ranging from British Naval officers to bejeweled European women to robed Moroccans.*

It looks like Milliways, *she murmurs, as the camera zooms over to a customer seated at a table.*

Waiting, waiting, waiting. I'll never get out of here. I'll die in Casablanca.

[stilljustandrew]

It does, kinda.

*Someone's trying to sell diamonds. Evidently they're not in high demand.*

[balletrat]

Except everyone's breaking the no business rule -

*Onscreen, the waiter assures a table of women that Rick never drinks with customers; and adds that the leading banker in Amsterdam is now the pastry chef in Rick's kitchen.*

- but it's nice and egalitarian.

[stilljustandrew]

Oh, oh, here's Rick--

*And here he is indeed, refusing a rather rude German entry into the casino.*

[balletrat]

*Meg surveys him critically, throughout the course of the interaction with the rude German - and again, as he converses coldly with a small, nervous-looking man.*

- he's not really all that good-looking, *she says, dubiously.*

[stilljustandrew]

No, he's not really, but he kind of makes you not care.

[balletrat]

We'll see, *says Meg, and shifts position so she's using Andrew's back as an armrest, still scrutinizing Rick.

She's determined not to be an easy convert.*

[stilljustandrew]

*A drunken Yvonne orders yet another drink from a lovesick Sacha.*

*Andrew watches, amused.*

[balletrat]

*Re-enter Rick, of course, to spoil the fun, commanding Sacha to hold Yvonne's liquor - obviously a man Immune to the Wiles of Women.*

Yvonne, *Sacha says sadly, as Meg snickers,* I loff you, but he pays me.

[stilljustandrew]

*Renault banters with Rick about Yvonne, and then moves on to other topics.*

*I have often speculated on why you don't return to America, Renault says airily. Did you abscond with the church funds? Did you run off with a senator's wife? I like to think you killed a man. It's the romantic in me.*

*Andrew makes a slightly sour face at that.*

[balletrat]

It was a combination of all three, *Rick retorts, and deftly avoids answering any further questions with a skill that Meg finds herself rather envious of - before being distracted by Renault casually informing Rick that his cafe will see an arrest tonight.*

[stilljustandrew]

*Rick: I came to Casablanca for the waters.*

*Andrew grins, and mouths the next two lines along with the actors.*

[balletrat]

*More snickering at that from Meg, which doesn't die down until Renault's halfway through making his bet with Rick about whether or not a man named Victor Laszlo will ever leave Casablanca.

(There's a brief resurgence at Renault's declaration that he is only a poor corrupt official.)*

[stilljustandrew]

*The arrest goes down.*

*Twenty thousand francs says Lazlo will make it to America.*

*Andrew gets up to fetch the bowl of popcorn from the desk.*