The Elephant to Hollywood - Michael Caine [154]
The studio wanted William Wyler to direct and ended up with Michael Curtz, who was, apparently, a very irritable and insensitive director. He was, however, responsible for a phrase still used today in English-speaking crews all over the world for a non-sound sequence. He was a Hungarian and whenever he wanted to do a scene without recorded sound he would shout out, ‘Mitt out sound!’, which became abbreviated to MOS.
It was another of those three films that Humphrey Bogart was only in because George Raft turned the part down and the studio had changed their mind about the original casting which was (picture this . . .) Ronald Reagan and Ann Sheridan. There was another problem: Bogart was about two inches shorter than Ingrid Bergman. I can’t imagine anyone asking Bogart to stand on a box, so this must have meant very difficult set-ups. On screen the two of them had a fantastic relationship, but that wasn’t the case off-screen and nor was it the case with the brilliant supporting cast, which includes Sidney Greenstreet, Peter Lorre and, of course, Claude Rains who nearly stole the film as Captain Renault. In fact, as Julius put it, ‘Nobody burst into tears when the movie finished shooting . . .’
But in spite of that, the film has gone on to be not only at the top of my list, but at the top of most people’s list. The music is memorable, and of course it contains some of the most often-quoted lines in the whole of the movie business. There are too many to mention here, but Rick’s line, ‘Of all the gin-joints in all the world, she walks into mine,’ stands out as one of the most poignant. And then there’s Rick’s famous last line, ‘I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.’ It wasn’t even in the original script. It was written by the producer, Hal Wallis and dubbed by Bogart later over the shot of him and Claude Rains walking away into the mist. To me this looks like Hal Wallis – who was a very smart producer – hinting at the studio for a sequel. It never happened – and perhaps it’s best that we leave it on that note. For me, Casablanca will always be number one.
My Own Favourite Movies
I can’t help being aware of the image I have in the media as a movie icon, not that Shakira allows me to get away with any icon-ish behaviour, as I’ve said. She’s right of course, but I also know that I have made some films that mean a lot to other people – and they are important to me, too. I can’t do a Top Ten of my own movies: it’s got to be a Top Thirteen, because there is something about each one of these that means a lot. I’ve never been superstitious about the number thirteen; my passport number for years was 13 13 13 – and that got me safely to plenty of places – so here they are, in the order in which I made them, and here’s why they matter to me.
Zulu – my first big break. A wonderful introduction to the world of the movies and the first film in which I had a substantial part.
The Ipcress File – this was the first movie in which my name was ‘above the title’. Harry Salzman decided to do this even though it was not in my contract. When I asked him why, he said: ‘If I don’t think you’re a star, who the hell else will?’
Alfie – the biggest movie of my career to this point and the first movie of mine that was not only a success in the UK but also got a US release. It was also my first nomination for an Academy Award . . .
Sleuth – the hardest and the best work I had done up until then. It was a two-handed show and the other hand was Lord Olivier, the greatest actor in the world. I was the greatest actor from