Confession time: I’ve been a fan of the works of Dashiell Hammett for decades.
If I remember correctly, it was a college professor who recommended Hammett to me back in the day. I’d written something for a creative writing class that the teacher was impressed by, and he encouraged me to check some prose crafted by Raymond Chandler, Thomas Pynchon, and Hammett as part of my summer reading. Well, Pynchon just never quite took. I tore through four of Chandler’s novels over several weeks. Then, I settled in on Hammett, almost immediately falling in love with The Maltese Falcon and some of the stories involving his Continental Op. Afterwards, I briefly recall picking up a copy of The Thin Man, but – like some of the sentences and ideas slung around by Pynchon – it didn’t quite have the same feel as his other stuff. Some of it might be owed to the fact that I couldn’t get into the characters as easily as I could the more traditional and/or hard-boiled private detectives; so, I let that one go.
A few years later, I discovered The Thin Man film series on home video. Similar to my experience with the novel, the first film – simply titled The Thin Man (1934) – was a bit zanier and frenetic (at times) than I prefer my mysteries; and, yet I was somewhat captivated by the work of William Powell and Myrna Loy in the roles of Nick and Nora Charles onscreen respectively. I think it was one of the first times that I saw what I viewed as screen chemistry working on a level I fully appreciated in a classic film. The two strutted about as somewhat effete socialites without a care in the world and yet they were completely likable, almost as if they were daring the audiences to think less of them in the process. It was some delicious work, indeed, and watching it now a few decades later it’s clear to see why their match-up launched a series of productions that lasted across six films from 1934 through 1947. Even Wikipedia.org reports that audiences saw this husband-and-wife team working so effortlessly together that they fully believed Powell and Loy were married in real life!
That, my friends, speaks volumes about the effectiveness of true talent, great writing, and excellent production values.
Thankfully, the good people at Warner Archive have recently re-released The Complete Thin Man Collection on Blu-ray so that I can rediscover these stories one at a time for my readership as I think they remain the kind of screen gems that should never ever go out of style. Next up is 1941’s Shadow Of The Thin Man, a light-hearted whodunit directed by W.S. Van Dyke based on a story credited to Hammett (for characters only, I’ve read), Irving Brecher, and Harry Kurnitz. This time, Nick and Nora – along with Nick, Jr. and Asta – are pulled into a murderous affair involving a big city gambling syndicate that might implicate members of the press, the police, and beyond.
Why, it’s an offer that this dynamic duo just couldn’t refuse …
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“A jockey has been shot dead at the racetrack. Famous detective Nick Charles and his wife Nora happen to be on the scene and Lt. Abrahams asks for Nick's expert help.”
If I remember correctly, it was a college professor who recommended Hammett to me back in the day. I’d written something for a creative writing class that the teacher was impressed by, and he encouraged me to check some prose crafted by Raymond Chandler, Thomas Pynchon, and Hammett as part of my summer reading. Well, Pynchon just never quite took. I tore through four of Chandler’s novels over several weeks. Then, I settled in on Hammett, almost immediately falling in love with The Maltese Falcon and some of the stories involving his Continental Op. Afterwards, I briefly recall picking up a copy of The Thin Man, but – like some of the sentences and ideas slung around by Pynchon – it didn’t quite have the same feel as his other stuff. Some of it might be owed to the fact that I couldn’t get into the characters as easily as I could the more traditional and/or hard-boiled private detectives; so, I let that one go.
A few years later, I discovered The Thin Man film series on home video. Similar to my experience with the novel, the first film – simply titled The Thin Man (1934) – was a bit zanier and frenetic (at times) than I prefer my mysteries; and, yet I was somewhat captivated by the work of William Powell and Myrna Loy in the roles of Nick and Nora Charles onscreen respectively. I think it was one of the first times that I saw what I viewed as screen chemistry working on a level I fully appreciated in a classic film. The two strutted about as somewhat effete socialites without a care in the world and yet they were completely likable, almost as if they were daring the audiences to think less of them in the process. It was some delicious work, indeed, and watching it now a few decades later it’s clear to see why their match-up launched a series of productions that lasted across six films from 1934 through 1947. Even Wikipedia.org reports that audiences saw this husband-and-wife team working so effortlessly together that they fully believed Powell and Loy were married in real life!
That, my friends, speaks volumes about the effectiveness of true talent, great writing, and excellent production values.
Thankfully, the good people at Warner Archive have recently re-released The Complete Thin Man Collection on Blu-ray so that I can rediscover these stories one at a time for my readership as I think they remain the kind of screen gems that should never ever go out of style. Next up is 1941’s Shadow Of The Thin Man, a light-hearted whodunit directed by W.S. Van Dyke based on a story credited to Hammett (for characters only, I’ve read), Irving Brecher, and Harry Kurnitz. This time, Nick and Nora – along with Nick, Jr. and Asta – are pulled into a murderous affair involving a big city gambling syndicate that might implicate members of the press, the police, and beyond.
Why, it’s an offer that this dynamic duo just couldn’t refuse …
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“A jockey has been shot dead at the racetrack. Famous detective Nick Charles and his wife Nora happen to be on the scene and Lt. Abrahams asks for Nick's expert help.”
Ah, the times … the times they are a'changing …
As Fate would have it, this fourth installment in the theatrically popular Thin Man series does begin to show a bit of wear. Some of the luster has worn off, and – dare I say? – Shadow doesn’t quite have the same feel as the previous three flicks. (Feels can be difficult to quantify, but I’ll try to do my best.) I’ve read that the original writing team departed – perhaps having worn thin on the premise – and it kinda/sorta shows as this outing features much less drinking and the usual romantic and sometimes comically cynical banter between Nick and Nora. While they do occasionally embrace that sense that these former newlyweds have grown into a somewhat more traditional married couple, they still hurl a few effective barbs here and there, reminding audiences more of what came before than it necessarily bodes well for this mild thematic shift. That, and Shadow has a bit more campy, screwball humor (for those who like that sort of thing, I don’t), but the conclusion remains the same: all of the usual suspects will be called together for that big finish wherein Nick will provide the master class of framing the ultimate guilty party in a big reveal.
At the risk of repeating myself, it’s sometimes necessary to remind readers that the Achilles’ Heel to any ongoing film series can, in fact, falling into the trap of repeating oneself.
Audiences show up expecting a bit of cinematic comfort food. The territory should be familiar, and it should all taste the same. But there should still needing that extra flavor – that succulent newness – that is also a reward when experiencing an all-new story. So while viewers accept ‘more of the same’ graciously, maybe even hungrily, we’re still waiting for the ‘what else ya got’ delivery, that special something-something which should be baked into the main plot. In conceiving one for an ongoing series, I’ve always insisted that storytellers should still never use lesser, cheaper ingredients in concocting their main course. Here's where I’m not entirely convinced the scriptwriters for Shadow were up to the challenge as what they instead brought new to the affair was little more than some predictable screen lunacy accomplished by – ahem – slow motion photography or even speeding up film for chuckles.
Erm … isn’t that kind of schtick beneath Nick and Nora? Especially a Nick and Nora as sober as they are in this adventure?
I’d read a bit of commentary online suggesting that the addition of Nick, Jr. – as played by Dickie Hall – may’ve been the single greatest contributing force for such changes: what with a young child brought into the action, could there and should there be as much wild partying and living life to the fullest as inhabited the first three features? Wouldn’t it have been more appropriate to showcase the mother and father making the necessary adjustments required of the nuclear family? Well, the problem I have with such suggestion is that Nick, Jr. really disappears from all of the action so quickly into the script that I (and probably most others) may’ve forgotten he even exists come the last reel. (Seriously, I thought about calling child protective services.) As a character, Nick Jr. is used (understandably) for comic relief than anything else; and – on that level – it all works just fine. Hell, it’s even funny a time or two. But shouldering the blame for this tonal shift onto the kid? Nah. That’s a bit of a stretch. Simply, he wasn’t around enough.
Rather, I’d point to the fact that Shadow’s overall plotline grows a bit cumbersome fairly quickly to any diminishing returns. After some comic domesticity being created solely for laughs, the action transitions to Nick and Nora enjoying a day at the racetrack wherein a jockey involved in a previous controversy is found ‘murdered.’ (Or was he?) Naturally, the police hope the masterful detective will assist (or do they?), and he eventually does; but the truth therein is that the jockey’s ‘murder’ truly evolves to be nothing more than a plot device that gets exploited when the real killing – that of reporter Whitey Barrow – takes place. It’s only after this that Nick fully becomes entrenched in the investigation, and this is where Shadow does finally shape up in its more traditional (or established) packaging. Yes, it might grow a bit convoluted stylistically, but that’s part of the procedure in order for Nick to showcase his vast mental prowess in the big finish.
As Fate would have it, this fourth installment in the theatrically popular Thin Man series does begin to show a bit of wear. Some of the luster has worn off, and – dare I say? – Shadow doesn’t quite have the same feel as the previous three flicks. (Feels can be difficult to quantify, but I’ll try to do my best.) I’ve read that the original writing team departed – perhaps having worn thin on the premise – and it kinda/sorta shows as this outing features much less drinking and the usual romantic and sometimes comically cynical banter between Nick and Nora. While they do occasionally embrace that sense that these former newlyweds have grown into a somewhat more traditional married couple, they still hurl a few effective barbs here and there, reminding audiences more of what came before than it necessarily bodes well for this mild thematic shift. That, and Shadow has a bit more campy, screwball humor (for those who like that sort of thing, I don’t), but the conclusion remains the same: all of the usual suspects will be called together for that big finish wherein Nick will provide the master class of framing the ultimate guilty party in a big reveal.
At the risk of repeating myself, it’s sometimes necessary to remind readers that the Achilles’ Heel to any ongoing film series can, in fact, falling into the trap of repeating oneself.
Audiences show up expecting a bit of cinematic comfort food. The territory should be familiar, and it should all taste the same. But there should still needing that extra flavor – that succulent newness – that is also a reward when experiencing an all-new story. So while viewers accept ‘more of the same’ graciously, maybe even hungrily, we’re still waiting for the ‘what else ya got’ delivery, that special something-something which should be baked into the main plot. In conceiving one for an ongoing series, I’ve always insisted that storytellers should still never use lesser, cheaper ingredients in concocting their main course. Here's where I’m not entirely convinced the scriptwriters for Shadow were up to the challenge as what they instead brought new to the affair was little more than some predictable screen lunacy accomplished by – ahem – slow motion photography or even speeding up film for chuckles.
Erm … isn’t that kind of schtick beneath Nick and Nora? Especially a Nick and Nora as sober as they are in this adventure?
I’d read a bit of commentary online suggesting that the addition of Nick, Jr. – as played by Dickie Hall – may’ve been the single greatest contributing force for such changes: what with a young child brought into the action, could there and should there be as much wild partying and living life to the fullest as inhabited the first three features? Wouldn’t it have been more appropriate to showcase the mother and father making the necessary adjustments required of the nuclear family? Well, the problem I have with such suggestion is that Nick, Jr. really disappears from all of the action so quickly into the script that I (and probably most others) may’ve forgotten he even exists come the last reel. (Seriously, I thought about calling child protective services.) As a character, Nick Jr. is used (understandably) for comic relief than anything else; and – on that level – it all works just fine. Hell, it’s even funny a time or two. But shouldering the blame for this tonal shift onto the kid? Nah. That’s a bit of a stretch. Simply, he wasn’t around enough.
Rather, I’d point to the fact that Shadow’s overall plotline grows a bit cumbersome fairly quickly to any diminishing returns. After some comic domesticity being created solely for laughs, the action transitions to Nick and Nora enjoying a day at the racetrack wherein a jockey involved in a previous controversy is found ‘murdered.’ (Or was he?) Naturally, the police hope the masterful detective will assist (or do they?), and he eventually does; but the truth therein is that the jockey’s ‘murder’ truly evolves to be nothing more than a plot device that gets exploited when the real killing – that of reporter Whitey Barrow – takes place. It’s only after this that Nick fully becomes entrenched in the investigation, and this is where Shadow does finally shape up in its more traditional (or established) packaging. Yes, it might grow a bit convoluted stylistically, but that’s part of the procedure in order for Nick to showcase his vast mental prowess in the big finish.
Still, there’s a surprising amount of little incidents that – come the ending – I kept wondering how it all came together in retrospect. The audience is taken on a wild ride from the Charles’ home to the racetrack to a night on the town to a wrestling match then to a fight-filled seafood restaurant … and there’s barely a chance to catch one’s breath before some solutions are postulated in the process of finding one central and meaningful story in here. It goes without saying that it’ll involve murder, but what’s all of this other fuss cluttering the picture? Unlike the first three flicks, Shadow feels a bit forced at times – almost as if the screenwriters were struggling to mimic a structure instead of letting a good yarn unfold organically – and it was hard to swallow some of the deliberated inserted comedy when it all used to feel so natural only a film ago.
Ahhh … the times … the times they are a’changin’ …
Shadow Of The Thin Man (1941) was produced by Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been handled by the fine folks at Warner Archive. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I found the provided sights-and-sounds to be exceptional from start-to-finish. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? Well, there’s nothing film-specific in here – just a few shorts drawn from the era – and that’s still a bit disappointing for this cinephile. I’d like to have something of greater substance to enjoy, but that was not meant to be.
Recommended.
When chemistry of its players mattered, The Thin Man series rarely disappoints, but I still struggled a bit with Shadow Of The Thin Man (1941). The first three installments founded a more congenial tone – along with much more drinking and swinging – than this one did; and the central story for this installment doesn’t show up for a time, leaving the audience left with mostly a few antics here and there to tide us over. Those showing up solely for Powell and Loy to work their magic are still rewarded, but the mystery seems to have fallen into an even lower gear than it should’ve in this series. Some good laughs get brushed over by obvious comic relief; and here I thought all of us deserved a bit more.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Warner Archive provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Shadow Of The Thin Man (1941) – as part of their The Complete Thin Man Collection – by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
Ahhh … the times … the times they are a’changin’ …
Shadow Of The Thin Man (1941) was produced by Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been handled by the fine folks at Warner Archive. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I found the provided sights-and-sounds to be exceptional from start-to-finish. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? Well, there’s nothing film-specific in here – just a few shorts drawn from the era – and that’s still a bit disappointing for this cinephile. I’d like to have something of greater substance to enjoy, but that was not meant to be.
Recommended.
When chemistry of its players mattered, The Thin Man series rarely disappoints, but I still struggled a bit with Shadow Of The Thin Man (1941). The first three installments founded a more congenial tone – along with much more drinking and swinging – than this one did; and the central story for this installment doesn’t show up for a time, leaving the audience left with mostly a few antics here and there to tide us over. Those showing up solely for Powell and Loy to work their magic are still rewarded, but the mystery seems to have fallen into an even lower gear than it should’ve in this series. Some good laughs get brushed over by obvious comic relief; and here I thought all of us deserved a bit more.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Warner Archive provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Shadow Of The Thin Man (1941) – as part of their The Complete Thin Man Collection – by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
RSS Feed