Nick and Nora

Film: After the Thin Man
Format: DVD from personal collection on laptop.

The Thin Man is my favorite movie of 1934 and one of my favorite movies of the 1930s in general. It’s also got one of my favorite screenplays ever written, containing lines that I’m still a little shocked made it past the censors. A big part of the success of the film comes from the pairing of William Powell and Myrna Loy, who were just about perfect on screen together. The two made 14 movies together, six of which featured them as Nick and Nora Charles. The first Thin Man sequel was After the Thin Man, the only one aside from the original to be nominated for an Oscar, at least in the categories I care about.

After the Thin Man picks up a few days after the original movie. Nick (William Powell) and Nora Charles (Myrna Loy) have returned home by train to San Francisco just in time for New Year’s Eve. Their intentions for a quiet night at home are first spoiled by a raucous surprise party for them, then by the insistence of Nora’s Aunt Katherine (Jessie Ralph) for them to come to dinner. Nora’s family has never approved of Nick, but in this case, they are prepared to make an exception. Robert Landis (Alan Marshal), the husband of Nora’s cousin Selma (Elissa Landi) has disappeared, and the family would like to make use of Nick’s talents as a former detective to find him.

America's Singing Sweethearts

Films: Naughty Marietta
Format: Turner Classic Movies on rockin’ flatscreen.

When you talk about classic screen couples, a few names come up. Fred and Ginger, naturally, but also Tracy and Hepburn, William Powell and Myrna Loy, and Bogie and Bacall. I think it’s fair to mention Nelson Eddy and Jeanette MacDonald in that crowd. They made eight films together, and their films were incredibly popular. The first of these, Naughty Marietta (sometimes called Victor Herbert’s Naughty Marietta) is the only one nominated for an Oscar, at least in the categories I care about.

I have to admit, I was worried. I’ve seen a few Jeanette MacDonald films and have either liked them or at least been neutral on them. MacDonald was an engaging presence on screen and she had great timing for light romantic comedy. The problem is the singing. I’ve learned to appreciate musicals a lot more in the last six years, but opera just doesn’t work for me, and she was definitely an operatic singer. The singing, in fact, has been the hardest part of her films for me to deal with, even if I’ve liked everything else. Nelson Eddy is a new one on me; all I really knew about him is that my mother wasn’t a fan.

Let Them Eat Cake

Film: Marie Antoinette (1938)
Format: DVD from Mokena Public Library through interlibrary loan on rockin’ flatscreen.

One of the most interesting figures of history is that of Marie Antoinette. The film Marie Antoinette from 1938 suggests that she may also be one of the most misunderstood. Of course this is coming from a time and place where history was often bent conveniently to fit the desired narrative. There are other considerations here, after all. This is a film about a haughty, rich, royal-blooded woman who was legendary for her disdain of the poor. The film is from the end of the Great Depression, in a time when public sentiment toward the rich couldn’t have been that positive. Despite this and a massive (for the time) budget, Marie Antoinette was quite the success and garnered Oscar nominations for two of its main stars.

Young Marie Antoinette, Austrian princess of the Hapsburgs (Norma Shearer) is told that she is being sent to Paris to marry Louis, the dauphin and future king of France (Robert Morley). She is overjoyed until she actually gets to Paris and meets her future husband. Louis is blubbery, emotionally weak, and hates being in public. The marriage happens anyway, with Louis telling Marie that night that the only reason the two are married is to produce an heir at the insistence of Louis XV (John Barrymore), his grandfather. But, says Louis, such a thing will never happen. He essentially abandons Marie to a life in court where she gambles and socializes to prevent her from becoming bored.

I Feel the Earth Move Under My Feet

Film: San Francisco
Format: DVD from NetFlix on laptop.

Spencer Tracy was nominated for Best Actor for San Francisco, so it would be understandable from my perspective to think that perhaps Tracy would be the central character of the film, or at least one of the central characters. Imagine my surprise when it turns out that the leading players here are Clark Gable and Jeanette MacDonald. Tracy, at best, is the fourth player in the film and is only on screen for a small percentage of the running time. This is a weird episode with the Hays Code, I think. Since Clark Gable, by all rights the main actor in the film, plays a scoundrel, it’s almost as if he didn’t deserve to get the nomination.

Our film starts a bit before the great San Francisco earthquake of 1906. We’re introduced to Blackie Norton (Clark Gable), who runs the Paradise Club in the Barbary Coast section of the city. It’s a rough part of town, filled with clubs, drinking, and illegal gambling, and Blackie is very much one of the kings of the area. Into this mass of humanity, sin, and depravity wanders Mary Blake (Jeanette MacDonald), an opera singer from Colorado looking to make her way in the city. She winds up at Blackie’s club because her building has burned down and she needs a singing job. After a tryout and a quick ogle, Blackie hires her.

Eleanor Powell

Film: Broadway Melody of 1936
Format: Turner Classic Movies on rockin’ flatscreen.

Line up the Best Picture winners end to end, and one the bottom in my opinion is The Broadway Melody, the second winner ever. That being the case, I can’t say I was excited to sit down and watch Broadway Melody of 1936. However, the DVR is getting full, which means I need to get through some of the older stuff to make room for what I want to record in the next couple of months. And so, Broadway Melody of 1936 it is.

What I didn’t know going in is that this would be my first exposure to Eleanor Powell, who had a terribly short film career. There’s a pretty strong case to be made for the idea that Powell stopped getting work because she was something like a threat to many of the other dancers of the time. Oh, I don’t mean she came at them with switchblades or anything, but Eleanor Powell was a real talent. Gene Kelly once said that when Fred Astaire danced with Ginger Rogers, it was the only time you watched the man. Well, I’ve seen clips of Powell dancing with Fred Astaire…and when they’re on stage together, you watch her. She’s as good as he is. Maybe better, because she’s doing exactly what he does and doing it as fast, as on the beat, and in heels.

Trader Horn

Film: Trader Horn
Format: Turner Classic Movies on rockin’ flatscreen.

Sometimes I decide to do something, and it seems like a great idea when I think of it. Then something like Trader Horn happens, and I wonder what the hell I was thinking about. Trader Horn was nominated for Best Picture in 1931, evidently one of the weakest Best Picture classes in Oscar history. This is evidenced by the fact that I’m not terribly upset that this film lost to Cimarron. Trader Horn, while no doubt impressive for its time (it was the first film shot on location in Africa), is aggressively racially and sexually offensive and even in the most generous and understanding opinion, is average it best, and even that is with giving the film as much benefit of the doubt as possible.

This is allegedly the story of African trader Aloysius Horn (Harry Carey) and his adventures in discovering a missing “white goddess” living among a savage tribe. Horn is joined by Peru (Duncan Renaldo), who is notable for both his thick accent and his hat, which deserved its own screen credit. Seriously, Peru’s hat is a pith helmet made for Andre the Giant. It extends a foot in front of his face and ends touching his shoulder blades and looks for all the world like a three-tiered beehive. Had there been a hat party during the course of the film, his would have been awarded as the grandest of all. Horn is also joined by Rencharo (Mutia Omoolu, the only African in the film treated with any respect), his gun bearer.

The Plot is Secondary

Film: The Thin Man
Format: DVD from DeKalb Public Library on big ol’ television.


The 1930s were a vastly different era from the one we live in now. That’s hardly a shocking statement. One need only compare a great film from the first era with one from the modern to see the difference. When the film from the 30s is The Thin Man, the difference is in the dialogue. Witness Nick Charles (William Powell) explaining to bartenders how to properly shake his fourth or fifth martini of the night, because martinis should always be shaken to waltz time.

Things really liven up with the appearance of Nora Charles (Myrna Loy), Nick’s wife, who is as smart and verbally devastating as Nick. They sit down for a drink, and she asks him how many drinks he’s had. He answers that the one the waiter has just handed him is his sixth, and she asks the waiter for five more, lined up on the table in front of her.

On its surface, The Thin Man is a murder mystery. A scientist named Wynant has disappeared, although it’s not actually a consensus that he may not be in town. When a body connected to Wynant shows up, it becomes evident that Wynant may well be the killer. Then a second body and even a third turn up and Wynant looks even guiltier.

Things are additionally complicated by Wynant’s odd family. His ex-wife keeps a lover named Chris (Caesar Romero), and her son is odd in many ways including a morbid fixation on criminals and psychiatric complexes. Wynant’s daughter Dorothy (Maureen O’Sullivan) is hoping to marry, but won’t until she finds out where her father is and his guilt is either proven or disproven.

It’s a complicated plot with a lot of different characters moving in and out of the picture at a fairly constant rate. Many of the people who show up are suspects for one reason or another, and all of them have a motive for the various killings. Into this walk our heroes, Nick and Nora Charles. Nick is a former detective who hung up his gumshoes when Nora’s father died, leaving her a fortune. While he denies he’s taking the case, he eventually takes it simply because every assumes he is and gives him enough evidence that he can investigate on his own.

Since this is a 1930s film, you can assume from the outset that the case will be solved, the murderer will be captured, and Nick and Nora will survive to the end despite what happens to them. That’s the nature of the beast.

Anyway, all of this is secondary to the relationship between Nick and Nora. The film is all about their relationship, which is both delightfully romantic and sweet and falsely antagonistic. The two of them are absolutely devoted to each other no matter how much they may pretend that they aren’t. Therein lies the charm of this film. It’s all about the dialogue between these two more than it’s about any murder, let alone three of them.

Well, it’s about that and the prodigious drinking that the two of them partake in at an almost constant clip. Both Nick and Nora are almost constantly either boozed up or nursing a hangover. They go through more alcohol than a typical fraternity party, which again is part of the charm of the two of them.

In addition to the dialogue, what makes the film work is the very natural chemistry between William Powell and Myrna Loy. The two of them appear to really be a real couple who have an actual relationship. Their verbal bantering aside, they are truly playful with each other throughout the film in a way that is entirely endearing. They make the sort of couple that would be ridiculously fun, if tiring, to know in real life, both enraptured with each other and frustrated with each other. The film is wonderfully fun, and specifically because of the two of them. Oh, and I shouldn’t forget the presence of their wire-haired terrier Asta.

The chemistry here is more amazing because the film was directed by W.S. Van Dyke, better known as “One-Shot Woody.” Van Dyke allegedly created the film in a mere 12 days, and it doesn’t show. It’s also a little surprising at the level of raciness that was allowed to creep in to a film made in the 30s. When the police search their hotel room and start going through the bureau, Myrna Loy shouts, “What’s that man doing in my drawers?” William Powell performs a nearly flawless spit take in response.

One more example:
Nick: I’m a hero. I was shot twice in the Tribune.
Nora: I read where you were shot five times in the tabloids.
Nick: It’s not true. He didn’t come anywhere near my tabloids.

They just don’t write dialogue like this anymore. Such a pity.

Why to watch The Thin Man: Smart dialogue and…well, smart dialogue.
Why not to watch: A complicated plot that is still secondary to Nick and Nora’s verbal footsie.