Two Turtle Doves - The Thin Man

After my last marathon post on Stanley Kubrick's controversial Eyes Wide Shut, I decided to dial it back a little and talk about the much more accessible (and, quite frankly, more enjoyable) The Thin Man, director W.S. Van Dyke's 1934 film adaptation of Dashiell Hammett's detective novel of the same name. Released the same year that my mother was born, The Thin Man is the second of my posts on holiday-set movies that aren't really HOLIDAY MOVIES. Stars William Powell and Myrna Loy are incandescent as Nick and Nora Charles, a wealthy, high-spirited, recently married couple who find themselves embroiled in a series of murders when they return to Nick's New York City haunts for Christmas. Having eschewed the criminal element with whom he once associated, Nick, a former private detective, now manages his wife's business affairs back in San Francisco. But old habits die hard. When Clyde Wynant, an eccentric inventor-cum-old acquaintance of Nick's fails to return home from a months-long, work-related absence, his newly engaged daughter, Dorothy (Maureen O'Sullivan) spots Nick at the bar of the ritzy hotel where he and Nora are holed up. 

Tickled to think that this beautiful young woman is flirting with him, Nick playfully teases her until she reminds him that he used to bounce her on his knee when she was a child. After establishing who she is and what she wants from him, Nick is reluctant to embark on a search for Clyde Wynant. The poor man has an avaricious ex-wife (now remarried) still sponging off him, plus a mistress who may be just a little dodgy. Plus, old Clyde, himself, has his own set of quirks that have put off Nick in the past. Why not let the man be? Dorothy, of course, being a daddy's girl, is both concerned for his well-being and needs him to walk her down the aisle at her upcoming nuptials. As Nick ponders Dorothy's proposal, Nora--with an armload of gift-wrapped packages--is dragged into the bar by Asta, Nick and Nora's wire-haired terrier.

Nora isn't too bothered by the seemingly cozy conversation Nick is having with Dorothy and inquires how many martinis he's had. Told that he's had six, Nora advises the bartender to line up six more martinis for herself. This is Nick and Nora's modus operandi: you rarely find them without a martini glass in their hands. They drink nonstop, yet, somehow, never fall flat on their faces (they are way too elegant, too worldly, too glamorous for such unseemly behavior). Instead, their witty repartee continues unabated, despite their conspicuous consumption. They are clever, cool and fun even when all around them are crumbling and blubbering hysterically. 

I love this couple. 

This movie series debut is a doozy. Shortly after Dorothy's consultation with Nick, one of the principal players in Wynant's circle is murdered. Almost immediately, the police clock the missing inventor as their chief suspect; the tabloids are immediately ablaze with the sordid headlines! As Nick and Nora throw a drunken holiday bash in their hotel suite, Dorothy shows up, gun in hand, claiming it was she who committed the murder. Hot on her heels are her glammed-up mother, Mimi, and whacky, pseudo-psychologist brother, Gilbert. Soon, the paparazzi crash the party in pursuit of the red-hot Wynant clan. The party guests turn out to be a motley crew, indeed, and not one Nora would normally find herself hobnobbing with. "You know such lovely people, Nicky," she coos.  

With encouragement from Nora, Nick decides to enter the fray. Aware that Dorothy is attempting to take responsibility for daddy's alleged crime, Nick sets out to track down the real killer--even if it turns out to be Dorothy's father. There are a couple more murders (attributed to Wynant) but the cops can't seem to get their man. But never fear, Nick and Nora can. Cocktails in hand and Asta in tow, the pair encounters some tough customers--including a volatile gunsel and a frying pan-tossing dame--before Nick closes the case when he and Nora host the ragtag troupe of suspects at a revelatory dinner party. Once the killer is escorted to the hoosegow, Nick, Nora and Asta, along with Dorothy and her new husband, board a train back to the west coast. Tossing Asta onto the top bunk of their compartment, Nick advises Nora that she'll need to make room for him in the bottom bunk for the duration of their long trip home. .

The End. 

I was in college the first time I saw this film, and it was love at first sight. To this day, I watch it a couple of times each year: it's a Christmas tradition.  The chemistry between Powell and Loy is magical, and the supporting cast--O'Sullivan, Nat Pendelton, Minna Gombell, Cesar Romero, Edward Brophy, Harold Huber ("the dirty little rat, Nunheim!) and the actress who played his wife (can't find her name anywhere) are perfect in their roles. The sparkling dialogue written by husband-and-wife team, Albert Hacket and Frances Goodrich, is consistently witty, clever and charming (even the thugs are enchanting), and James Wong Howe's crisp black-and-white cinematography is one of the film's many highlights. Incidentally, Skippy, the wire terrier, who played Asta, went on to co-star in the five Thin Man sequels, as well as the same-named TV series. Altogether, Skippy appeared in 24 films, including The Awful Truth and Bringing Up Baby, before finally barking up the wrong tree at age 20.  

FYI: After the Thin Man, the movie's first sequel, picks up where the original left off, depositing our leads back in San Francisco, where their adventures continue. After the Thin Man is almost as beloved as its predecessor and features James Stewart in an early dramatic role that anticipates his performance as Scotty Ferguson in Hitchcock's Vertigo.