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[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

[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.*

[balletrat]

*Meg takes a moment to make a face at him, as her elbow is rudely displaced, before returning her attention to the screen, where Renault is insisting that Laszlo won't leave Casablanca without his lady companion, and making another face.*

Bet it'd be easier if they did split up.

[stilljustandrew]

*Andrew returns, and hands her the popcorn.* Shh, you'll see.

*On the screen, Rick Blaine is asserting that he sticks his neck out for nobody.*

*It's so very Han Solo of him, Andrew's always thought.*

[balletrat]

Bar neutrality, *Meg murmurs, and delicately picks up a piece of popcorn to pop into her mouth as Rick settles in for some verbal sparring with the German official.*

Are you one of those people who cannot imagine the Germans in their beloved Paris?

*Meg leans forward, unconsciously; the popcorn bowl teeters dangerously.*