It was from the Ilsa and Sam scene and the Rick and Sam scene from Casablanca that a mad M.I.T. economics graduate student was distilling his frenzy in 1978. That fourth year graduate student, Jeffrey Frankel, was the producer/head-writer for his cohort’s contribution to the annual skit party of the department of economics. At the time I was on the other side of the Berlin Wall so that I missed both the creation and performance of “Casablank”. I contacted Jeff recently and asked if he still had a script. He did, and now Economics in the Rear-view Mirror is proud to provide the script for that legendary skit as well as the lyrics to “And God Knows Why”.
Production trivia. When asked about the casting decision to have Miguel Beleza in drag playing Ilsa, Jeff Frankel answered [Warning–irony and hyperbole!]: “I was violently opposed…But the others thought I was being a spoilsport; this was the price for their (reluctant) agreement to putting on my precious masterpiece.”
Note: To hear a well-crooned rendition of the entire Herman Hupfeld song “As Time Goes By” (Lyrics), that includes the introduction not sung in the movie but included in the MIT skit, listen to Rudy Vallée with Orchestra on the Victor label (78 rpm).
The same cohort of graduate students at M.I.T. was responsible for the skit Analysis in Wonderland that was written and performed in 1975 and transcribed for an earlier post.
____________________
4th-year class, March 1978
CASABLANK
by Jeff Frankel*
*Script author and lead-author for lyrics to And God Knows Why.
Cast
Rick Gain [J.F. = Jeff Frankel]
Ugotme [Andy = Andy Abel]
LeBruin [Bill = Bill Krasker]
Major Strasbusch [Dick = Dick Startz]
Samuelson [Jay = Jay Helms]
Ilsa [Luis = Luis Miguel Beleza]
Narrator [Ray = Ray Hill]
Man [Bob = Bob Cumby]
Professor [Pedro = Pedro Aspe]
Student [Pat = Patricia D. Mooney]
S.S. [Ray = Ray Hill]
Vector Lieslow [Henry = Henry Brady]
NARRATOR: (solemnly) With the coming of the recent recession, the eyes of the world turned hopefully or desperately, to the field of Economics. A Ph.D. became the great embarkation point. But nobody could get a Ph.D. directly. And so a tortuous, roundabout refugee trail sprang up. From grade school to high school, from high school to college, and then, by GRE’s or grades or inside connections, to Graduate School. Here the fortunate ones, through money or influence or luck, might obtain an exit thesis, and thus get their Ph.D. and get a job in the world of Economics. But the others are stuck in Graduate School, where all they can do is wait…and wait…..and wait.
(Scene: Robnett’s Café American. People drinking: Man at one table, Student and Professor at another, Ugotme playing cards with others at a third table, and LeBruin at a fourth. Samuelson at piano.)
MAN: (despairingly) Waiting, waiting, waiting! I’ll never get out of here. I’ll die in Graduate School!
PROF.: (examining paper of nervous student) B+.
STUDENT: But can’t you…make it just a little bit more, please?
PROF: I’m sorry madame; exchange rate models are a drug on the market; everybody sells exchange rate models. There are exchange rate models everywhere. B+.
(Rick enters from left. Pause. SS comes to door on right.)
RICK: (blocking entrance) I’m sorry, this is a private room.
SS: Of all the nerve! I know there’s bridge-playing going on in there; you can’t keep me out! Do you know who I am?
RICK: I do; now get out. (SS leaves.)
UGOTME: (standing up) Who was that, Rick?
RICK: S.S.
UGOTME: S.S.?
RICK: Yeah. Sloan School.
UGOTME: Rick, why do you despise me? Oh, you object to the kind of business I do, huh? But think of all those poor students who must rot in this place if I didn’t help them. Through ways of my own, I provide them with thesis topics.
RICK: For a price Ugotme. They have to buy you dinner.
UGOTME: Look, Rick. (Takes paper from pocket.) Something that even you have never seen. A proof that unemployment can exist under rational expectations. I’d like you to keep it for me. (Hands paper to Rick. Retakes his seat.)
(Rick walks over and sits down with LeBruin.)
RICK: Hello, LeBruin.
LEBRUIN: Have some wine. Oh I forgot, you don’t drink with customers. I’ve been wondering, Rick. What in heaven’s name brought you to Graduate School?
RICK: The social life. I came to Graduate School for the social life.
LEBRUIN: (in astonishment) What social life? We are in a wasteland!
RICK: I was misinformed.
LEBRUIN: We are expecting a famous visitor here: Vector Lieslow, the liberal economist. He would give anything to get a proof that unemployment can exist under rational expectations.
RICK: What makes you think I’d help Lieslow?
LEBRUIN: Because, my dear Ricky, I suspect that under that monetarist shell, you’re at heart a Keynesian. (Rick laughs) Oh, laugh if you will, but I happen to be familiar with your record. In 1972, you worked for George McGovern. In 1968 you organized protest demonstrations at the Chicago School.
RICK: And got paid for it on both occasions.
(Strasbusch enters right. Nods to LeBruin, clicking his heels. Sits down with LeBruin and Rick.)
LEBRUIN: We are very honored tonight, Rick. Major Strasbusch is one of the reasons the Chicago School enjoys the reputation it has today.
STRASBUSCH: Mr. Gain, you came here from California.
RICK: There seems to be no secret about that.
STRASBUSCH: Are you one of those people who can’t imagine Milton Friedman in their beloved California?
LEBRUIN: Rick is completely neutral about everything. And that includes the neutrality of money.
STRASBUSCH: You were not always so carefully neutral. We have a complete dossier on you. We know what you did in College, and also we know why you left College.
RICK: (getting up) If you gentlemen will excuse me, (stunned) that girl Lieslow is with! Ilsa!
(Lieslow and Ilsa walk in, right. Look around, sit at a table.)
RICK: (Dreamily) I knew her in College, in the more innocent days before the recession. We were in French class and the SDS together. We believed in poetry and ideals like economic equality for all…and…and…the downward-sloping Phillips Curve. (Coming back to reality.) But then conservatism set in; the SDS was thrown off campus, and French class was replaced by Accounting. (sits down)
ILSA: (Leans over and talks to Samuelson.) Play it, Samuelson. Play “And God Knows Why.”
SAMUELSON (sings first half of song.)
AND GOD KNOWS WHY
[played on piano by Samuelson]
This day and age we’re living in
Gives cause for consternation
With the speed of price inflation
And disintermediation.
I get a trifle weary
With economic theory;
I can find no explanation
In graduate education.
No matter what the progress
Or what may yet be proved
The stylized facts of life are such
They cannot be removed.
You must remember this
We’re just economists.
We know the prime rate’s high
So also is the money supply
But God knows why.
And when the market’s bearish
The small investors perish
On that you can rely.
The fundamentals don’t apply
And God knows why.
Exercises in futility
Like multiple regressions,
Or maximizing our utility
With Jacobians and Hessians
Don’t give us the ability
To forecast our recessions;
That no one can deny.
It’s still the same old trouble
A speculators’ bubble:
A case of sparkling wine.
The Dow breaks seven-forty nine
And God knows why.
(Then applause from everyone but Strasbusch. Strasbusch, then LeBruin, stand up.)
STRASBUSCH: (to LeBruin, sternly) I have decided that we need this space for an S.S. classroom. I advise that the Robnett Café be shut up at once!
LEBRUIN: But I have no excuse to close it.
STRASBUSCH: Find one!
LEBRUIN: (blows whistle) Everybody is to leave immediately. This café is closed until further notice!
RICK: On what grounds?
LEBRUIN: I’m shocked! Shocked to find that bridge-playing is going on here! (Everyone leaves except Rick and Samuelson, who start to straighten chairs. LeBruin comes back to take bottle and glass. Ilsa enters suddenly.)
ILSA: Rick, I know you have the proof that unemployment can exist under rational expectations. You must give it to me, so Vector Lieslow and I can get out of here.
RICK: Why should I help you?
ILSA: If you don’t help us, Vector Lieslow will die in Graduate School.
RICK: What of it? I’m going to die in Graduate School. It’s a good place for it.
ILSA: Rick, you were a Keynesian too once.
RICK: I believe in self-interest now, sweetheart.
ILSA: I don’t like the way you are acting.
RICK: You’re no Ingrid Bergman yourself.
ILSA: I think that under that protective covering of neutrality, you still believe in an activist fiscal policy.
RICK: No, under this protective covering of neutrality…(Taking off trench coat and revealing Superman insignia) is Superneutrality!
(Ilsa turns and leaves in disgust.)
RICK: Play it again, Samuelson.
SAMUELSON (sings second half of song. Then leaves with Rick.)
You must remember this
We’re just economists.
Steel prices are still high,
Despite excess supply.
And God knows why.
Though the deutschemark is up
So are the sales of Krupp;
The Germans still sell and we still buy.
The fundamentals don’t apply,
And God knows why.
Upturns and downturns,
Wage hikes and price hikes,
Miller follows Burns,
Miller’s union strikes.
Every student learns,
Whether or not he likes
The fount of wisdom runs dry.
It’s still the same old textbooks;
Each one looks like the next looks.
Sales of Dornbusch and Fischer
Will make the authors richer,
But God knows why.
(Scene: LeBruin seated at desk. Rick, Ilsa and Lieslow enter together.)
RICK: (handing paper to LeBruin) LeBruin, this exit thesis is being submitted in the names of…Mr. and Mrs. Vector Lieslow.
ILSA: Oh, Rick!
LEBRUIN: Just as I suspected. At heart, you are a Keynesian.
(Major Strasbusch stalks in. Grabs paper and looks at it.)
STRASBUSCH: This thesis is not complete. There is no econometric evidence.
RICK: I have my programmable H.P. right here (tapping pocket of trenchcoat).
STRASBUSCH: You’re bluffing.
(Rick reveals calculator in holster. Strasbusch reveals his, draws. Rick draws. Both hit buttons furiously, with calculators pointed at each other.)
RICK: (while calculating) Regressing unemployment on the government deficit…holding constant for labor force composition…the t-statistic is…2.0!!
STRASBUSCH: (in horror) Oh, no! Fatal at the 95% level!! (Falls over.)
RICK: (chucking Ilsa under chin) Here’s looking at you kid.
(Ilsa and Vector exit)
(Lights out.)
Source: Transcribed from copy of original script and lyrics provided by Jeffrey Frankel .
