5) Casablanca
There’s a danger with older movies to perceive them purely as existing in their own time, forgiving them for perspectives that were prevalent in the period and couldn’t be helped by their authors. To an extent I am swayed by this position, but that doesn’t mean we can’t still judge them for their faults, even if they shouldn’t be expected to be so exceptional as to be as liberal-minded as our movies tend to be today, relatively anyway. I also think movies should be held accountable for establishing or perpetuating tropes that still plague movies and television to this day.
Which brings me to Casablanca. Billed often as the most romantic movie of all time, at least pre-2004, it is in ever-so-classy black and white and so has a certain quaintness to it, a term I use in the most condescending manner possible. It comes from an era in which manliness amounted to being so guarded against showing any feeling that you literally held your feelings inside no matter what prompts you may face, such as the love of your life leaving you behind. This isn’t The Notebook where the girl ends up with the protagonist. This is Casablanca, where he watches her fly away on a plane with her douchey (probably) husband because of, again, this manly sense of martyrdom, a tough guy identity that chooses a weird kind of duty and stoicism over happiness. Whatever dude, do what you want. Just don’t bitch to me about it later over beers, please.
