Week 5: Casablanca and the Stages of Social Life - NGUYEN KIM CHI (응웬김찌)
Watching Casablanca (1942) through the lens of Erving Goffman’s dramaturgical theory completely transformed my understanding of the film. At first glance, it’s a love story set against the backdrop of war a timeless classic full of romance, patriotism, and sacrifice. But with Goffman’s ideas in mind, it becomes something even more interesting: a movie about performance, identity, and how people present different versions of themselves depending on who’s watching.
Goffman argued that everyday social life is like theater. We all perform roles depending on the context we’re in, adjusting how we speak, act, and present ourselves depending on the “audience.” He introduced concepts like the front stage, where we perform for others, and the back stage, where we can be our more honest or unfiltered selves. These ideas are all over Casablanca in the characters, the dialogue, and even the setting of Rick’s Café.
Rick Blaine: A Master of Impression Management
Rick, played by Humphrey Bogart, is perhaps the most obvious example of Goffman’s concept of impression management. When we first meet him, he’s cool, distant, and seemingly indifferent to politics or romance. This is his front stage persona a mask he wears to keep people at a distance. In Rick’s Café, he plays the role of the cynical businessman, refusing to “stick his neck out for nobody.” His performance is calm and controlled, carefully designed to project neutrality and power.
But as the story unfolds, we see glimpses of Rick’s back stage self especially in scenes with Ilsa. The carefully managed mask slips, revealing emotion, regret, and a deep sense of moral conflict. Goffman would say this is a moment where the performance breaks down, and the more authentic self emerges, even if only temporarily.
What’s fascinating is how Rick navigates multiple audiences. To the Nazis, he acts disinterested in resistance. To the refugees, he pretends to be unreachable. To Ilsa, he performs both bitterness and longing. He’s constantly adjusting his role depending on who he’s with and what’s at stake. That’s classic Goffman: the idea that the “self” is not a fixed identity but something we actively construct in different social contexts.
Rick’s Café: A Front Stage for Everyone
Rick’s Café itself feels like a literal stage where multiple performances unfold. It’s a gathering place for spies, refugees, soldiers, and lovers. Each person is putting on an act, trying to survive or blend in, depending on who they are. Goffman’s idea of the definition of the situation a shared understanding of what’s going on - is important here. Everyone in the café knows they’re part of something complex and fragile. They play along with the illusion of politeness and neutrality, even though tension lies just beneath the surface.
Captain Renault is another character who expertly manages his performance. He jokes, flirts, and pretends to be in control, but his real loyalties are ambiguous. Like Rick, he’s constantly shifting his performance depending on what the moment demands. When the situation changes at the end, Renault redefines his role in real time, choosing to side with Rick and walk off into the fog, rewriting his script for a new act.
Ilsa’s Role and Emotional Masking
Ilsa, played by Ingrid Bergman, is also navigating a complex performance. Caught between her love for Rick and her duty to her husband, Victor Laszlo, she constantly suppresses her own feelings. Goffman might describe this as emotional labor the act of controlling one’s emotions to fit a social expectation. When Ilsa tells Rick that she can’t stay, she’s performing not for him, but for the larger moral “audience” that demands self-sacrifice and honor.
In fact, much of the film’s emotional power comes from what is not said the pauses, glances, and unfinished sentences. These subtle signals are part of the unspoken performance, where characters manage impressions not just with words but with tone, posture, and silence.
Final Thoughts: All the World’s a Café
In the end, Casablanca is a movie about loyalty, love, and sacrifice but also about the performances we give in public, the secrets we hold in private, and the moments when those two worlds collide. Through Goffman’s framework, we can see how Rick’s transformation isn’t just about doing the “right thing” it’s about choosing to change the story he tells about himself. He steps out of his carefully managed role and reclaims a deeper, more vulnerable self.
Goffman wrote that “the self… is a product of a scene that comes off.” Casablanca is full of these “scenes” big and small where the performance either succeeds or fails. And in the end, it reminds us that even in a world at war, the most powerful stories are the ones we tell about who we are and who we choose to become.
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