Big-Screen ‘Casablanca’ Draws Crowd

The snow was just starting Thursday night as a couple of hundred people in search of something special ducked into the toasty Garland Theater.

They had plunked down a dollar apiece to see “Casablanca” on the big screen. It was the film classic’s last night in Spokane. And an eclectic crowd had congregated at the North Side landmark to see it off.

There were clusters of twentysomething “Friends” clones. There were tired-looking old guys wearing ball caps, beat-up coats, high-water pants, white tube socks and sneakers. Ward and June couples. Teenage girls adorned with multiple nose rings.

You name it. Everybody comes to the Garland.

For at least a couple of decades now, “Casablanca” has been a staple with smug college crowds. Some might call it the ultimate cliche. The deal has been that you see it over and over and then wear your memorization of the movie’s many famous lines like a badge.

It has something to do with staking a claim on American pop culture in a way that declares “I’m not a stupid kid anymore … I’ve seen Humphrey Bogart in black and white.”

But Thursday night at the old popcorn-scented theater, members of the audience seemed more impressed with the movie than with themselves. For one thing, except for this one baby, people pretty much kept their mouths shut.

Sure, there was laughter and even a few bursts of applause. (Hey, if that dueling anthems scene doesn’t still get to you, better check to make sure you’ve got a pulse.) But the people in the seats didn’t act like they were the stars of the show.

They were there to see Bogart in that white jacket, drinking and smoking his way to a stylized definition of manly coolness. They were there to see Ingrid Bergman’s incredible face in huge, delicious close-ups.

And because this cross-section of Spokane impressively demonstrated how to behave at a movie, everybody got to have a good time.

Well, almost everybody. “I didn’t really get what it was about,” a teenage boy said to his mom as the lights came up and people fussed with their coats.

His mother just smiled.

A few rows away, a fiftyish guy stood up and beamed. “First time I’ve seen it on the big screen,” he announced to no one in particular.

Watching it on TV would never be the same.

Being There is a weekly feature that visits gatherings in the Inland Northwest.

, DataTimes