Showing posts with label Casablanca. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Casablanca. Show all posts

Best Cinematography, 1943

Awards presented March 2, 1944
The nominees were ... 
(Black-and-White)
(Black-and-White) 
(Black-and-White) 

This long, sentimental, ponderously reverent religious fable was a big hit but hasn't stood up well with the passage of time. Still, it's a must-see for those interested in Hollywood's treatment of religion (Linda Darnell as the Virgin Mary!) and as a demonstration of the technical resources available to a big studio going all out on a prestige project. One of those resources was Miller's cinematography, which won him the second of his three Oscars. 

(Color) 

Gaston Leroux's old chestnut about the disfigured composer who lurks in the vaults of the Paris Opéra achieved film fame with the Lon Chaney version in 1925, which is still better than the many, many remakes. This is the one with Claude Rains menacing Susanna Foster and Nelson Eddy, and high-camp operatic pastiches based on themes from Tchaikovsky and Chopin. Midwar economies had made many studios cut back on color productions, but Universal went all out for this one. Still, despite the contributions of Mohr and Greene, it's the studio's black-and-white horror films we remember. This is the second Oscar for Mohr, whose first was the only write-in winner in Oscar history, for A Midsummer Night's Dream. This is Greene's only competitive Oscar, but he had received two honorary awards for his pioneering color work on A Star Is Born and The Garden of Allah

... when it should have gone to ... 
(Black-and-White) 

Arthur Edeson
If the test of a cinematographer's skill is the production of images that linger in the memory, then Edeson's work on this film certainly passes the test. Of course, there are other reasons why we remember Casablanca as fondly as we do, but this site is devoted to honoring what has lasted, and not what caught the Academy's fancy at a given time. Edeson was nominated three times and never won. In fact, he wasn't even producer Hal Wallis's first choice to shoot the film; James Wong Howe was. But as the saying goes, You must remember this: 

(Color) 

The Lady in the Tutti-Frutti Hat
Edward Cronjager
The Gang's All Here is a well-nigh indescribable musical, whose nugatory plot -- something about the romantic rivalry of Alice Faye and Carmen Miranda over serviceman James Ellison -- isn't worth going into. All you really need to know is that it was directed by Busby Berkeley and that the musical numbers have all the mad inventiveness of the ones he staged for Warner Bros. in the 1930s with the addition of some of the most lurid Technicolor ever committed to celluloid. The highlight is Miranda's "The Lady in the Tutti-Frutti Hat," with chorus girls handling fruit in ways that make you sure the censors had never read Freud. Cronjager was nominated for Heaven Can Wait, a delightful film in its own right, but certainly more conservative in its use of color than this movie, and he would probably be appalled to be remembered for The Gang's All Here instead. He was nominated seven times, but never won. 


Best Writing, 1943

Awards presented March 2, 1944
The nominees were ... 
(Original Motion Picture Story)
(Screenplay) 
And the Oscar went to ... 
(Original Motion Picture Story) 

In Pal Joey (the stage version, not the censor-crippled movie), a stripper sings about what goes through her mind as she's taking off her clothes on stage: 
Zip! Walter Lippmann wasn't brilliant today.
Zip! Will Saroyan ever write a great play? 
The answer, sadly, was no. Although he won the Pulitzer Prize for his 1939 play The Time of Your Life, as well as an Oscar for this story, Saroyan is mostly forgotten today. The consensus seems to be that he was too careless, too prolific, too optimistic, too sentimental ... in other words, too much. The story of The Human Comedy, about a telegraph delivery boy in a small California town, was written by Saroyan along with a screenplay, which he sold to MGM. But the treatment was much too long for a feature film of the time, and Saroyan was fired and the rewrite handled by Howard Estabrook. Saroyan then turned the story into a novel, which is often erroneously cited as the source of the film because it was published before the film was released. The film was one of Louis B. Mayer's favorites because of its celebration of Mayer's (and Saroyan's) sentimentalized version of "family values." In 1992, a little over a decade after his death, Saroyan's Oscar turned up in a San Francisco pawnshop. 

(Original Screenplay) 

Olivia de Havilland plays a princess, exiled in the United States by the war, who falls in love with an airline pilot and after some impediments arise, marries him thanks to some intervention by no less than FDR and his dog Fala. Krasna also made his debut as a director with the film. It was his only Oscar win after three prior nominations. The film is remarkable only because it was the straw that finally broke the back of the studio contract system, under which a studio could claim that a person signed to, say, a seven-year contract must put in seven years of actual work time -- in other words, time off between and even during filming (such as weekends and holidays) could not be counted as fulfilling the contract. De Havilland claimed to be exhausted from work, and initially refused to do the film. When she was forced to do it, she sued Warner Bros., with the backing of the Screen Actors Guild, and won. The court's ruling that a seven-year contract referred to seven calendar years is still known as "the de Havilland law." 

(Screenplay) 

Julius and Philip Epstein
Howard Koch
Because of Casablanca's enduring success, authorship of the screenplay has been contested over the years. Julius and his twin brother Philip Epstein produced the first workable screenplay from the unproduced play Everybody Comes to Rick's, by Murray Burnett and Joan Alison. Warner Bros. had bought the rights to the play for the then-generous sum of $20,000. Epstein later told writer Harlan Lebo, "There wasn't a world of truth in the picture. There were no Germans in Casablanca, certainly not in uniform, no letters of transit, there was nothing. And it was slapped together. For example, I don't know what would have happened if my brother and I hadn't come up with 'round up the usual suspects' for the ending. And it wasn't the result of a lot of thought, either; it was just one of those flashes." When the Epsteins, contract writers at Warners, moved on to other assignments, the script was passed around among other writers, including Wally Kline, Aeneas MacKenzie, and Lenore Coffee. Casey Robinson, who had worked closely with producer Hal B. Wallis over the years, was brought on to do major work, particularly on the love scenes, and the whole thing was handed over to Koch for a rewrite. In the end, the Writers Guild gave the screen credits to the Epsteins and Koch, excluding Robinson for reasons that have never been entirely clear. Robinson claimed at one point that he asked to have his name withdrawn because he didn't want to share screen credit with anyone. One persistent rumor about the script is that it was begun without knowing the outcome of the story, although the play ends as the film does: with Rick enabling Ilsa (called Lois in the play) to leave with Laszlo. Ingrid Bergman, who admitted that she wasn't aware that the film was based on a play, wrote in her memoirs that she was concerned about not knowing whether she would wind up with Humphrey Bogart or Paul Henreid and was told to "play it in-between," because the writers hadn't decided yet. But there is no evidence that the ending was ever in doubt, other than the role played in it by Louis (Claude Rains) and the fate of Major Strasser (Conrad Veidt). The Epstein brothers continued to work together until Philip's death in 1954. Julius had been nominated before for his work on Four Daughters with Lenore Coffee, and would receive two more nominations, for Pete 'n' Tillie and Reuben, Reuben. Koch had been nominated for his work on Sergeant York. He had begun his career as a playwright, but after two Broadway flops he began writing for radio, including the infamous "War of the Worlds" script for Orson Welles in 1937. He was hired as a Warner Bros. contract writer in 1939. Among his assignments was the 1943 film Mission to Moscow, a wartime propaganda drama that shone a favorable light on Stalin and the Soviet Union, which the United States was eager to keep as allies. Koch said that he was pressured into doing the film by studio head Jack Warner, but in 1947 Warner was called before the House Un-American Activities Committee and, as a "friendly witness," was asked to testify about Mission to Moscow and other "leftist" films. In his testimony, Warner named Koch as a communist sympathizer. Blacklisted, Koch spent his later screenwriting career in England. He is sometimes confused with producers Howard W. Koch Sr. and Jr., to whom he was not related. 

... when it should have gone to ... 
(Original Motion Picture Story) 


Jean Arthur, Joel McCrea, and Charles Coburn in The More the Merrier
This delicious romantic comedy isn't seen as often as it should be, probably because its situation, a wartime shortage of housing in Washington, D.C., dates it. It was remade in 1966 as Walk, Don't Run, about the shortage of housing in Tokyo during the Olympics, but that version is memorable only because it was Cary Grant's last film. The three principals, Jean Arthur, Joel McCrea, and Charles Coburn, perform at their peak of charm, but while Arthur received her only nomination and Coburn won, McCrea was once again overlooked by the Academy, even though few leading men of his day performed both comic and action roles with his finesse. Russell was a talented playwright whose other claim to fame was the book for the 1965 musical Flora the Red Menace, on which he collaborated with George Abbott. While the show was not a success, closing after eighty-seven performances, it was a debut vehicle for Liza Minnelli, who won a Tony for her performance. And it was the first Broadway show to feature the songwriting team of John Kander and Fred Ebb. Ross had been an actor, and met Arthur when he had a small role in the 1929 film The Saturday Night Kid. They married three years later, by which time he had become a production assistant at Hal Roach Studios. He was the producer of two of her features, The Devil and Miss Jones and A Lady Takes a Chance. He shared in a 1945 honorary award presented to the producers, director, writers, and cast of the short film The House I Live In, which was designed to promote racial tolerance. He also received an Oscar nomination as producer of best picture nominee The Robe.  

(Original Screenplay) 

Coward in In Which We Serve
One of the most versatile figures of the twentieth century, Coward was actor, composer, playwright, novelist, songwriter, producer, and director. He had made his first screen appearance while still in his teens in a bit part in D.W. Griffith's 1918 film Hearts of the World, and wrote his first screenplay, The Queen Was in the Parlor, in 1927. Many of his plays were adapted for the screen, including Cavalcade, the best picture winner for 1932-33. He not only wrote, but produced, directed (with David Lean), acted in, and composed the music score for In Which We Serve which tells about the lives of the crew of a torpedoed British destroyer. The result is a super patriotic opus, pulling out every stop in its paean to England (and Wales, Scotland, and Northern Ireland), home, and duty. Coward based the story on the experiences of Lord Mountbatten, whose ship was sunk early in the war. The huge case includes Richard Attenborough and Celia Johnson in their film debuts, as well as John Mills, Bernard Miles, and Michael Wilding. It also features nine-year-old Daniel Massey, who would receive an Oscar nomination for Star!, in which he plays Noël Coward. Despite Coward's tour de force, the Oscar went to Norman Krasna's Princess O'Rourke, perhaps because Coward had been honored by the Academy for the film with an honorary award a year earlier. At that time it hadn't met the qualifications for release in the United States that would allow it to be nominated in the competitive categories.     

Best Director, 1943

Awards presented March 2, 1944
The nominees were ... 
... when they should have been ... 
Michael Curtiz accepts the Oscar for Casablanca
Curtiz is one of those directors, like William Wyler, who give the auteur theorists fits: They made any number of brilliantly entertaining films without showing any distinct directorial fingerprints. In Curtiz's case we have Captain Blood, The Charge of the Light Brigade, The Adventures of Robin Hood, Angels With Dirty Faces, The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex, Yankee Doodle Dandy, Mildred Pierce, and of course the one for which he received his only Oscar. He directed more than one hundred films for Warner Bros. in the quarter century he spent with the studio, which hired him in 1925. Born in Budapest, he had begun his career as an actor, then a producer and director in Hungary and Austria when they were a single country. He was directing in Germany when he was approached by Jack Warner, who was planning a film, Noah's Ark, and had seen Curtiz's work on a film about Sodom and Gomorrah. It's possible that a lot of credit for Curtiz's output belongs to his producers, especially Hal Wallis, for after Wallis left Warners in 1944, Curtiz's films declined in quality. He was famous for his short temper, especially with actors and crew who couldn't understand his thick Hungarian accent, which gave rise to many anecdotes, including his order to "bring on the empty horses," meaning riderless ones, during the filming of The Charge of the Light Brigade. David Niven, one of the stars of the film, used the command as the title of one volume of his memoirs. 
Curtiz behind the camera, with Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman

Best Supporting Actor, 1943

Awards presented March 2, 1944
The nominees were ... 
... when they should have been ... 
And the Oscar went to ... 

Often cast as an Englishman, Coburn was actually born in Savannah, Georgia. He spent most of his early career on stage and made his film debut in his late fifties, in 1933. His career as a lovable, sophisticated grandfather type flourished in the 1940s, but extended through the 1950s, including two memorable outings with Marilyn Monroe, Monkey Business and Gentlemen Prefer Blondes. He made his last screen appearance in Pepe at the age of eighty-three in 1960, a year before his death. 

... when it should have gone to ... 

With four nominations and no wins, Rains is one of Oscar's most notorious also-rans. Film after film, from The Invisible Man in 1933 to The Greatest Story Ever Told in 1965, is enlivened by his suave presence, and his role as in Casablanca as the amoral police chief whose heart is really in the right place fits like a glove. No one was better at charming menace or menacing charm. It helps, of course, that Rains is given some of the best lines ever written for a supporting player, from "I'm shocked, shocked to find that gambling is going on in here!" to "Round up the usual suspects," and that he delivers them perfectly. And it has to be acknowledged that it takes skill and finesse to stand out in the company of accomplished scene-stealers like Peter Lorre, Sydney Greenstreet, S.Z. Sakall, Marcel Dalio, and Leonid Kinskey. 

Conrad Veidt and Claude Rains in Casablanca 



Best Actor, 1943

Awards presented March 2, 1944



The nominees were ... 
... when they should have been ... 

Lukas was a fine actor, but he will always be remembered as the man who beat Humphrey Bogart for best actor. Born in Budapest, Lukas had been a stage and screen star in Hungary and in Austria (when they were one country) before coming to the United States in 1927 to try his luck in Hollywood. He found himself in character roles, often as the foreign-born villain. His best-known films before the Oscar were Little Women, in which he plays Prof. Bhaer to Katharine Hepburn's Jo March, Dodsworth, and The Lady Vanishes. The Oscar didn't change his career much, but he continued to work regularly on stage and TV, and in a variety of films ranging from 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea to Elvis Presley's Fun in Acapulco

... when it should have gone to ... 

Perhaps the screen's most unlikely romantic leading man, Bogart had a curious series of ups and downs in his career. He had begun on stage, then decided to try Hollywood in 1930 when it was begging actors who could talk to come west. He signed a contract with Fox, but was let go after two years. He returned to Broadway for the original stage production of The Petrified Forest, playing the gangster Duke Mantee opposite Leslie Howard. When the play was filmed, Warner Bros. wanted Edward G. Robinson for the role, but Howard insisted on Bogart. The film was a hit, and Bogart signed a contract with Warners. But even then the studio didn't quite know what to do with him other than have him play gangsters. It loaned him to Sam Goldwyn for Dead End, and miscast him quite badly as the Irish horse trainer in Dark Victory. But in 1940 he performed with distinction in tough-guy roles in Raoul Walsh's They Drive by Night and High Sierra. The latter was written by John Huston, who was ready to make his directing debut with The Maltese Falcon, and after George Raft turned down the part of Sam Spade -- reportedly because he didn't want to work with a novice director like Huston -- Bogart finally got his major breakthrough role. Casablanca showcased the romantic side of Bogart, whose nuanced portrayal of the conflicted Rick Blaine is film acting at its best. Watch, for example, the self-disgust that plays across his face in the scene below, in which he insists that Sam play "As Time Goes By," despite his previous ban on the song. 

Dooley Wilson and Humphrey Bogart in Casablanca 

Best Picture, 1943

Awards presented March 2, 1944


The definitive Hollywood movie, glossy high-level entertainment. A gaggle of writers and re-writers, working from an unproduced play called Everybody Comes to Rick's, turned out probably the most quoted screenplay of all time. (Julius J. Epstein, Philip G. Epstein, and Howard Koch got the credit, and the Oscars.) Most of the legends about the movie are phony: It was never intended to be a routine studio potboiler, and Ronald Reagan was never really considered for the part of Rick. Hal B. Wallis was the foremost Warner Bros. producer, and it's unlikely he would have attached his name to a low-level project. Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman were always the first choices for the leads. Michael Curtiz, a supremely competent studio director, got the job, which also won him an Oscar, after William Wyler turned it down. And it needed a studio director, not an auteur, to produce this beautifully machine-tooled movie.