Casablanca lands so routinely in listings of the top two or three movies of all time, it’s become almost boring to call it “great.” It’s the definition of a Hollywood masterpiece. We keep in our hearts the characters, the scenes, the songs. But Casablanca manages to be strongly original while also synthesizing parts of many films of its time: a wartime setting, a hero (Humphrey Bogart) with shades of grey in his past, a female lead (Ingrid Bergman) who wants something she can’t have, humor and tragedy and parody and sacrifice. And, of course, doomed love. Good art tells us stories; great art makes demands of us. Casablanca demands we break our own hearts like Rick, make dangerous choices like Ilsa, sing like Sam and scheme like Louis. And the movie remains timeless because those feelings are.