Il canto dell'uomo ombra

Song of the Thin Man is a sad-sweet experience, something like meeting a good friend you haven't seen in years and realizing how much affection you still have for him... but also how much you both have aged. It's been 13 years since The Thin Man appeared in 1934. We have to stop and remember that Nick Charles wasn't the thin man back then; that particular thin man was just one of the many murder victims Nick and Nora came across in their six movies. We remember the sophistication and insouciance of this affectionate and clever couple. They were never at a loss for a quick come-back or to shake a cold, gin martini. Even Nick's modus operandi to bring all the suspects together at the conclusion and pick apart the case until he has the murderer squirming never quite got stale. Alas, with Song of the Thin Man we have the MGM factory squeezing out one more film to try to wring a profit from it, this time attempting to make it "contemporary" by setting the story in the post-WWII social world of after-hours jazz clubs, bebop musicians and hep cat dialogue. Nick and Nora never looked uncomfortable anywhere their adventures took them in the past. They look at times now as out of place as salesmen from Peru, Indiana, at a Linda and Cole Porter party.

Gone is the sophisticated world of white sofas and polished black floors, of naughty Porter lyrics and earnestly sophisticated Gershwin tunes. Martinis seem oddly old fashioned now (and so do Old Fashioneds) as Nick drinks high balls and Nora sips sherry. And instead of clever repartee, Song of the Thin Man gives us the kind of dialogue only studio journeymen can write. Says one character, "I must have blown my top, kicking Buddy over for a road company Casanova like you!" The solution depends on the kind of half-baked, melodramatic psychology popular at the time. To make it even more tedious, there are no characters except Nick and Nora to care about. The movie is peopled with crooks, opportunists, gold- diggers, scat-talking musicians and the unattractive rich. The acting is so variable that it doesn't take long to realize we're watching the kind of movie that MGM did not waste much effort on.

Why spend time on it? Two names: William Powell and Myrna Loy. Even though 13 years have elapsed, even though, at 55, Powell is a little fuller around the face (Loy at 42 doesn't seem to have changed a bit) and even though WWII altered decisively the world of films, they remain one of the most refreshing, attractive and delightful movie pairs in screen history. They raise the movie, if at least not to their level, to a level of enduring affection for their style, their warmth, their intelligence and, that word again, their insouciance. So three stars is too much for the movie but five stars is too little for them.

It's 1947 and after five entries into the "Thin Man" series, starting in 1934, it's time for a sixth and last one. This may not be the best, but it has a lovely cast consisting of William Powell and Myrna Loy, of course, as well as Keenan Wynn, Leon Ames, Gloria Grahame, Don Taylor, Patricia Morison, Jayne Meadows, Dean Stockwell as little Nicky, and Asta Jr.

Nora is trying for a higher class of acquaintances in the hopes that Nicky will get to know people besides thieves. At a society dance, the band leader, Tommy Drake (Philip Reed), is killed. The police go after Phil Brant, whom they suspect. The next day, Janet Thayer (Meadows) and Brant (Bruce Cowling), with whom she has just eloped, come to ask for Nick and Nora's help. The police arrive just then, and because Nick believes that Brant's life is in danger, turns him over to the police for his own safety.

Ass Nick and Nora look into the case, they find out that there are many suspects in Drake's death as he wasn't very popular. Janet's father (Ralph Morgan) couldn't stand him, he owed money to a loan shark (William Bishop), and the clarinetist (Don Taylor) and Drake had an onstage fight. Drake suspected him of having an affair with his girlfriend (Grahame) who sings with the band.

In an attempt to be hep, Nick attempts to use musician language, and it's funny to hear it coming from him, and Nora tells the institutionalized clarinet player that she's a "canary." Though they were always wonderful together, Powell and Loy just don't have the zip of earlier films; they are, after all, older. Powell is 55, Loy is 42 and lovely, but their routine is tired. The mystery is okay; Dean Stockwell is funny as the incorrigible Nicky, and Asta Jr. has some funny bits.

You'll enjoy this as long as you don't compare it to the first few. "The Thin Man" started a host of imitators as well as a TV show and Broadway musical. Powell and Loy brought humor and class to the detective genre. This isn't really a fitting end to such an important series.

I apologize for having the same obvious review title as several others, but I just couldn't help myself. This is only the least of the Thin Man movies if you have seen all of the others, especially the energetic precode that started it all. If this was the only Thin Man film you ever saw, you'd think it a superior mystery of its era with great leads.

It is 1947, Nick is obviously in middle age, Nora is on the edge of it, and our dynamic detective duo of the 30's and the war years (they made one film during WWII) are in a brave new postwar world that they do not quite fit into, nor do they understand. Their son is about ten and is getting old enough to defy them, and two young friends, socialite Janet Thayar and her newly wed musician husband Phil Brant come to them for help. They need help because the night before, aboard a shipboard nightclub, band leader Tommy Drake has been murdered, and because Brant and Drake were seen arguing, of course the police jump to conclusions and assume Phil did it.

Now as usual there are many suspects, some that are obvious and some that are not so obvious. However, to solve the crime, Nick has to investigate a world completely foreign to him - that of postwar jazz and the jive talking of the inhabitants of that world that sound like a foreign language to him. Nick hasn't lost a step in his investigation abilities, he's just having some trouble with the changing times.

I don't know if this was meant to be the last of the Thin Man films, or it just happened to be, but it was a perfect ending. Nick and Nora are moving into middle age, it is time for a new generation to take over, symbolized by the newlywed Brants, and the Charles' are ready to wander off into the sunset and deal with their son's upcoming teen years. A perfect ending to a perfect series.

My favorite scene has nothing to do with the crime. It is when the Charles' son has tried to duck out on piano practice and go play ball against their direct orders. Nora says a spanking is in order and hands this task over to Nick who hesitates as he thinks back on his son's birth, the good times, and then one memory of his son being a brat hits him and he is able to complete the task. In this one way Nick and Nora were very postwar - they winced at corporal punishment. This was probably the reason the baby boomers were entitled hippies in their teens and 20s, the most prudish bunch of old people since the pilgrims in middle age, and want the government to keep their hands off of their Medicare now that they are old. But I digress.

At any rate, adieu Nick and Nora, no sleuthing team before or after you were ever your equal in charm, teamwork, insight or just plain fun.

While I enjoyed this final THIN MAN movie, I've gotta admit that it was far less enjoyable than the first few entries in this series. Maybe the actors were getting tired or the writers had writer's block--but the movie just lacked the most important factor for a THIN MAN movie--FUN! Yes, some of the wonderful banter between Nick and Nora was present (particularly when Nora talks "jive"), but only here and there--not nearly as often or as hilarious as in previous films. And, unfortunately, the plot also is pretty convoluted (though I must admit that plot is NOT the primary reason people watched the films--it was the characters). Also, their son, played by Dean Stockwell, was never developed as a character and, Frankly, Nick and Nora seemed like TERRIBLE parents. Oh well, despite all these complaints, it still is a pretty good film--slightly better than average but that's really about all.

Did Nick and Nora's swan song, "Song Of The Thin Man," try just a tad too hard to be hip and cool? Yep.

You know what that means? It means, so what? It means that what many consider the least popular of the Thin Man movie is still better than most.

For Nick and Nora's final bit of sleuthing and their first in a couple years (since the wonderful Thin Man Goes Home), they enter the ultra-hip, ultra-cool, slanged-out world of jazz, courtesy of their tour guide, reed-man Keenan Wynn, who couldn't put together a sentence of straight Queen's English to save his shoe bottom (soul).

Who killed the band leader? All I can say is, it wasn't Nick or Nora or Asta.

By 1947, William Powell's waistline has expanded slightly and Myrna Loy long ago gave up the sheer, slinky gowns that had us all drooling, but they can still cut it, rug and all.

Were six Thin Man movies enough? Not for me.