After the Thin Man (W.S. Van Dyke, 1936) Follow-up to the popular The Thin Man, which took the Dashiell Hammett novel and characters and ramped up the entertainment value. Although it has become the most popular of the series over the years (which might be due to the fact that the young and future star, but at the time MGM contract-player James Stewart is featured prominently in the cast), it suffers from a slight case of "sequelitis," with more arbitrary schtick—songs and production numbers that stick out like a milk-shake served in a speakeasy, much more attention and comic anthropomorphism attached to the dog, Asta—as well as making detective Nick Charles a perpetual lush (although there are flashes of the character's talents, as when after avoiding a low-life that has been tumbled down the stairs, he casually mentions "He has a gun under his left arm"). William Powell is an unsung, perhaps merely undersung, master of the throw-away and even though the performance is an amusing "drunk act," he manages to keep the character's thin veneer of dignity intact throughout the shenanigans, and the prim and unproper Myrna Loy lends enormous support in that regard by the obvious affection her character affords her husband.
But, still...we're talking Hammett here. Sure, "The Thin Man," the author's last novel, was lighter than the mystery-master's "The Maltese Falcon," or "The Glass Key," but the screenplay's authors, Frances Goodrich and Albert Hackett* seem to have lost some of the original's dark roots, trading mystery for naughtiness, wit for "cute." I quibble here—after all, the movie-James Bond isn't really Ian Fleming's character, either—for the movie's a solid romp—Nick and Nora investigate another disappearance,** this time the disappearance of Nora's cousin Selma's good-for-nothing husband, which not only involves low-life's, but the other end of the spectrum in Nora's unproperly prim side of the family.
Hi-jinks ensue, bullets fly (and complicate things while simplifying the cast), and it all ends with the "reveal" in a room full of suspects. Van Dyke keeps the thing moving by staying out of the way—there are long, long takes where the actors do such involved business and are merely cramming as much fun into the scene as possible that they make the current cut-and-snip style of acting and film-making appear stodgy (compare this to The Tourist,*** for instance).
It's a fine time—save for some Asian racism that curdles the proceedings for a time—and another example of showing why "they don't make 'em like they used to" is a valid argument when it comes to movie-making quality.
* The pair also worked on the screenplays of Father of the Bride, Easter Parade, The Diary of Anne Frank, and It's a Wondeful Life—which, is extraordinarily impressive—all classics, all great, dense scripts.
** The first movie's disappearance was of "the thin man" of the novel's title, it didn't refer to the character of Nick Charles, at all.
*** Speaking of which, Johnny Depp and Rob Marshall are planning their own version of The Thin Man. One hopes that Depp doesn't overdo the drunk bit (as he is wont to do), and the casting of Nora will be absolutely critical.
This was part of a series of reviews of the ASUW Film series back in the '70's. Except for some punctuation, I haven't changed anything from the way it was presented, giving the kid I was back in the '70's a bit of a break. Any stray thoughts and updates I've included with the inevitable asterisked post-scripts.
This Friday's ASUW films in 130 Kane are examples of "The Thriller," and they are W.S. Van Dyke's The Thin Man and Roman Polanski's Chinatown.*
The Thin Man (W.S. Van Dyke, 1934)
First of all, let's clear up a falsehood: the name The Thin Man does not refer to detective Nick Charles as it has been thought, but to a murder suspect in the film. You have been informed, trivia fanatics!**
Well, now the film. It was released in 1934 (approximately the time that Chinatown is set) and so the film will certainly appear dated, and this shows more prominently in some of the stereotyped "suspects," for instance the young couple that are usually included in the films of this period (they quite regularly disrupt Marx Brothers movies--which isn't the easiest thing to do!) But then, you might be surprised by some of the risque dialog, the very funny verbal sparring that goes on between Nick and Nora Charles, and the extremely light touch that inhabits what is supposed to be a murder mystery (the same thing was attempted in Murder on the Orient Express, but didn't work due to Sidney Lumet's heavy-handedness). The late James Wong Howe's expert cinematography provides the mystery. The loony script by Goodrich and Hackett, and the "let's-do-this-fast" direction of W.S. Van Dyke provide the seeming effortlessness of the humor.
And one can't ignore the superb talents of William Powell as the perpetually soused Nick Charles, or Myrna Loy, the woman with the iciest glare you could wish to see (or even Asta, for that matter). Effortlessness is their best asset. It is also the film's.
A thriller? No. But good? Yes!
Broadcast on KCMU-FM November 11th and 12th, 1975
The Thin Man is, and always will be, an entertaining film. Based on Dashiell Hammett's last novel (some have speculated Nick and Nora were inspired by Hammett and constant companion, Lillian Hellman) it skirts the issue of alcoholism (the two drink CONSTANTLY but are always witty and entertaining--The magic of Hollywood) but other than that, it is one of the perpetual crowd-pleasers that came out of Hollywood's glamorous age.
Screening it again recently was interesting--it was remarked tha that all the female characters seemed to be semi-hysterical (they are) and that the costuming for the women never ceased to be flamboyant (it doesn't). I took note of James Wong Howe's amazing cinematography, especially his night shooting, and how the rhythm of the thing might be better served if there weren't insert shots of shocked reactions to bon mots. Still the best thing about it is William Powell's seeming ability to make things up as they go along, and Myrna Loy's vivaciousness and innate ability to play it straight no matter how outrageous.
* Ya wanna read about Chinatown, pally? Go here.
** But that's about as useful to folks calling it "The Thin Man" series, as it is to fans of Boris Karloff's Frankenstein. And...it's not entirely accurate.
