You Must Remember This

Tonight I’ll disconnect the phone and lock all doors and close the curtains. It will be me and my TV, some sushi maybe and some wine. The couch and comfy cushions now a small tropical island in a sea of quiet bliss. I’ll start with something light and frothy - something that will make me smile: ‘Arsenic and Old Lace’ or ‘Beauty and the Beast‘, ‘Great Expectations’ maybe, before it’s time to brace myself, to go all-out for perfect bliss - a box of hankies at the ready. Yes, for here we are again: in Paris and in black & white - and yes of course: it’s raining. Two people meet and fall in love while Europe’s burning and the armies march. Then, of course, their time runs out and they must part and say goodbye amidst the smoke of waiting trains. (A station is the best farewell: its sounds and smells so redolent of love and desolation.) The camera now shuts its eyes and when it dares to look again it is upon a different scene - another place, another time, of deserts and of nightclubs, of Nazi boots and gambling debts: a place without much hope, but that for some has now become their lonely bit of exile. So, enter Rick into his bar, a cigarette between his lips, a hat that’s almost jaunty. Ah well, you know the story, don’t you? Everybody surely knows this movie: Casablanca. Those images of hope and loss, of grief and laughter - all those long goodbyes and then those songs: “You must remember this A kiss is just a kiss, a sigh is just a sigh. The fundamental things apply as time goes by.” A perfect movie and a perfect ending. Sad, of course, for yes, it’s yet another parting… But what a world to visit once again, where everything must always be about these old, familiar enchantments. Love and loss – and duty, honour and the faith that all of this will conquer evil conquer shadows, conquer time.