Song of the Thin Man
(1947)
Gangsters on a Boat
is not exactly Snakes on a Plane,
which is probably for the best. The final bow of Nick and Nora is their weakest
outing but, like mother’s flit gun, it is by no means devoid of charm. There is the feeling that the spark and
enthusiasm has been slightly dulled, however. In particular, William Powell
seems more stolid than before. And then there’s the willingness to indulge the
hepcat musical numbers. With such detours anyone would think this was one of
the MGM Marx Brothers comedies (appropriately, or perhaps not, Edward Buzzell
also directed a couple of their diminishing returns pictures). But it’s nigh on
impossible to dent the easy rapport between Powell and Myrna Loy, even if it
shouldn’t be right that their formerly anarchic reign over proceedings should
give way to their being labelled “The
squarest couple of hipsters I’ve ever seen”.
Although a return to the world of crime bosses ought to be
right up the Charles’ street, the affair is muffled. As happened with some of
those aforementioned Marx Brothers movies, at times there’s a feeling that Nick
and Nora are passing time on the fringes of their own show. In the first Thin Man Nick and Nora were the life and
soul (well, Nick certainly was). Now he’s an elder statesman; “Mr Charles is a bit of a shmo”. He
shouldn’t be, though.
The scene of the crime (well the first crime) has potential;
a gambling ship called the S.S. Fortune. The heavily indebted leader of a jazz
troupe is shot dead, and there are more than enough suspects who might have a
beef against him; the gangster he owed, the ship’s owner whom he was attempting
to steal from, the band’s losing-it clarinettist. As far as the mystery side goes Song isn’t badly constructed, but the
unfolding is mostly indifferent. Perhaps it’s that Buzzell is unable to inject
any momentum into the proceedings, or perhaps it’s that few of the cast really
take hold, but more than ever it’s only Nick and Nora’s antics keeping this
going. The difference is, before they were the fuel rather than the just
another part of the cake mix. If you don’t guess the murderer it’s probably
because you don’t really care. There may be a certain pizzazz to the way Nick
stages his customary reveal on the reopened ship, with a gathering of the
potentials, but when the murderer reveals his own identity with a “Never mind. I’ll tell them”, and he’s
hasn’t been accused let alone sweated under hot lights, it’s all a bit limp.
Nevertheless, there are numerous bright spots. Keenan Wynn
becomes Nick’s nominal sidekick, as musician Clarence “Clinker” Krause, while
Gloria Grahame is memorable as moll singer Fran. Less certain is Don Taylor as
Buddy Hollis, whose has had his “mind
shattered by alcohol”. It’s come to something that a series that celebrated
over-indulgence feels the need to sign off on a note of caution; this is what
the evil liquor can do to you kids. Thank goodness Nick hardly even sniffs it
any more. Taylor went on to become a director, most notably with the likes of Escape from Planet of the Apes and Damien: Omen II (as you might guess,
most of his output was TV). More alarming is that in order to service the plot
Nick and Nora remove the poor sap from his rest home and put him back on stage
to lure a killer. It’s a bit laissez-faire to endanger a non-criminal
cohort (Clarence’s reluctance to get up
on stage with Buddy is more appropriately amusing).
Mention should be made of the returning Nick Jr after a
hiatus when the Charles went home. This time, none other than Dean Stockwell
plays the little terror. He has a few good moments with Powell, even if Jr’s
presence adds to the patchwork feel of the picture. “Looks like a page out of Esquire” comments Nick. “Not the page I saw,” replies his chip
off the old block. Then there’s dad’s refusal to tell him a bedtime tale; “But your stories always put me to sleep”
protests his son. Strangest of all is the protracted spanking sequence. It’s
difficult to ascertain quite what was intended here, not forgetting we were
“treated” to Nick spanking his wife in the previous picture. This time Nora
instructs her husband to punish Nick Jr, but every time he raises his hand he
sees nostalgic images of their good times overlaid on his son’s behind. It
appears to be getting at an anti-corporal punishment angle, until Nick recalls
his son laughing at him and then gives him a rigorous beating… Only for us to discover
Nick Jr had a glove down his trousers all along. “Did you know about the glove?” demands Nora to a protesting
husband.
Asta is as sprightly as ever (in his second Asta Mk II
appearance), finding an IOU, letting out a belch and having his fearsomeness
warned against “Just one word from me and
that dog of mine will tear you to pieces”.
The jazz talk is mostly an opportunity for Loy to show some
surprising adeptness with the lingo; “Oh,
get lost you offbeat rinkydink. You’re nowhere,” she tells a bouncer. This
is a world of jivey hepwarblers and cries of “Lay it on me, man. Lay it on me” during a solo. None of it really
takes, and the inclusion of a frowning Beethoven bust at the end of a
performance may not be coincidental (it’s certainly as visually creative as the
director gets). Elsewhere Nora invokes Sherlock Holmes after telling gangster
Al Amboy (William Bishop) it would be silly to have killed Drake; “If a guy owes you money and you kill him, he
can’t pay you”. “Very smart” says
Drake. “Elementary” corrects Nora.
There’s a wee bit of metatextuality about Nick’s technique,
although not as much as Nora reciting the script of the big reveal in the
earlier Shadow of the Thin Man; “Oh, I see. All you have to do to prove your
innocence is confess your guilt” she levels at her husband when he rejects
a likely suspect. Elsewhere a cabbie asks, “Follow
that car?” and Nora comments “Movie
fan”. The most inspired comic interlude might be the highly amusing scene
in which a hotel clerk is quizzed about the comings and goings of a suspect. He
insists that discretion is his watchword before unleashing a torrent of
carefully eavesdropped insights; “That’s
all I know about her because I don’t go snooping on our guests”.
Nick is pretty much off the sauce during this one, and even
two years on from Goes Home there
just isn’t the same energy in Powell’s performance. He’s good natured and
affable, but definitely not rising to the occasion. There’s also less sauce
between him and Nora (he even takes her along on some investigative work
without giving her the slip, a sure sign things aren’t what they were). He
notes that 4am “is my brandy hour”
but Nora gets the best sozzled line when hubby warns her to get down on the
ground if things get rough; “I’m
practically under the table now, but not the way I like to be” she retorts.
His best line might be to the undercover officer whose gun is peeking from
beneath his jacket; “Sergeant, your slip
is showing”.
Actually, there is
a better exchange. I think it’s safe to say Song
was one Thin Man too many, but
that’s a pretty good batting average out of the six pictures. And it’s not like
it sullies the series’ memory. It just feels unnecessary, the only time that Nick
and Nora are back purely to milk the cash cow. I know there’s a collective
groan at anything Johnny Depp does these days, but I think he’d make a good
fist of Nick Charles. He’s honed the drunk/intoxicated act (Captain Jack, Raoul
Duke), so this would most definitely be early inebriated Nick. The question will
be, can he find a co-star to match him in repartee and chemistry? There haven’t
been many during his career, and without that elusive match-up it would be best
not to bother. Oh, and that best exchange? Not the last lines in the move, but
they ought to have been:
Nick: And now, Nick Charles is going to retire.
Nora: You’re through with crime?
Nick: No, I’m going to bed.
**1/2
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