The Horse's Head

#240) The Thin Blue Line (1988)

Directed & Written by Errol Morris

Class of 2001

The Plot: In November 1976, Dallas police officer Robert Wood was shot and killed while pulling over a car for having its headlights off. Officer Teresa Turko did not see the assailant before they drove off, but an investigation led to 16-year-old David Ray Harris, who said he was a passenger in the car when the driver, 28-year-old Randall Adams, committed the crime. Adams was arrested and the trial produced several surprise eyewitnesses who testified that they saw Adams shoot the officer. Adams was given the death sentence, eventually commuted to a life sentence in 1980. Case closed, right? Errol Morris disagrees, and interviews many of the key players years later to see if their stories hold up. Through innovative reenactments and a great Philip Glass score, Morris shows the crime from several points of view, but definitely tips the scales of justice in favor of Adams’ innocence and Harris as the culprit.

Why It Matters: The NFR gives an overview, highlights the film’s effect on the actual case, and praises Philip Glass’ score.

But Does It Really?: “The Thin Blue Line” is a game changer in the world of documentaries. Before this, documentaries were either talking heads or cinema vérité, but Morris broke the mold with a movie that pushes what non-fiction on film can be. It helps that the real case is endlessly fascinating (and you should definitely read into it), and Morris showcases all perspectives in a gripping, fascinating experience. The film’s true legacy is its definitive proof that movies can change the world. (See “Legacy” for the film’s main impact).

Everybody Gets One: This is Errol Morris’ only film on the NFR, though I suspect “The Fog of War” will make it eventually. Morris’ career as a filmmaker started on a bet with Werner Herzog, who said he would eat his shoe if Morris ever made his proposed film about a pet cemetery. The movie was “Gates of Heaven” and Herzog held up his end of the deal.

Wow, That’s Dated: The final scene hinges on footage of a tape recorder.

Title Track: Prosecutor Doug Mulder used the phrase in his closing argument to remind the jurors that the police are “the thin blue line” between order and anarchy.

Seriously, Oscars?: “The Thin Blue Line” was famously not nominated for Best Documentary, leading to public outcry from the likes of Michael Apted and Roger Ebert. The exclusion is partially Morris’ fault: he didn’t want the film labeled a documentary, opting for the “nonfiction” moniker instead, a term the Academy used in their decision to consider “Thin Blue Line” ineligible for Best Documentary. There were also reports of Academy members turning the film off midway through screenings, suggesting a strong dislike of the film within the Documentary branch. If only screeners had existed back then.

Other notes

• “The Thin Blue Line” was distributed by Miramax, then co-owned by Harvey Weinstein. That’s right, Harvey Weinstein helped distribute a movie about a man who gets away with a crime and is then charged for a similar crime years later. Payback’s a bitch.
• Side Note: I had a film professor who went to the University of Wisconsin, Madison at the same time as Errol Morris. Lots of namedropping. Lots of namedropping.
• “The Thin Blue Line” started off as a completely different film about Dr. James Grigson. Nicknamed “Doctor Death”, Grigson’s diagnosis of Texas criminals led to over 100 death sentences (Texas will only approve the death sentence if a doctor can convince the jury the defendant would cause more harm if acquitted). While interviewing Randall Adams, Morris wasn’t convinced that Adams was the sociopath Grigson made him out to be, and investigated his case further. Grigson gets a brief mention in the final film.
• This dramatic reenactment sponsored by Burger King! Have It Your Way!
• They can get the footage from “The Student Body” and “The Swinging Cheerleaders” with no problem, but the pivotal “Carol Burnett Show” footage is nowhere to be seen. I can’t even find a clip on YouTube. Burnett will not let you watch her tribute to Ray Charles without ponying up.
• Edith James is my favorite person in this whole thing. It helps that she’s the most human of the bunch, and that she is only tangentially connected to all of this.
• There are a lot of times where different interviewees try to discredit Officer Teresa Turko, suggesting she didn’t follow protocol at the scene of the crime. I hesitate to ask this, but would they be this harsh if she was a man?
• I’ll be honest: I didn’t take a lot of notes for this one. I found myself caught up in the crime as well as the film (which is impressive considering I’ve seen this film before). There’s so much to keep track of I couldn’t risk writing a lot down for fear of missing something (which, again, is a high compliment for a movie I’ve already seen).

Legacy

• Some films influence pop culture, some films are technological breakthroughs, but some films change lives. Due to the evidence that appears in the film, the Texas Court of Criminal Appeals overturned Adams’ prison sentence. Adams received a retrial, and was released from prison in 1989. Because it was a dismissal and not a pardon, Adams did not receive any restitution for his false imprisonment. Following a suit against Morris to reclaim the rights to his life story, Adams returned to obscurity, to the point where his death wasn’t reported by the press until eight months after the fact.
• David Ray Harris was eventually tried and executed for the 1985 murder that gets mentioned near the end of the film. He was never tried for the murder of Officer Wood.
• Errol Morris continues cranking out documentaries (and the occasional book) every few years. He did eventually make a movie called “Mr. Death”, but the subject was electrocution technician Fred A. Leuchter, rather than Dr. James Grigson.

• Dramatic reenactments started popping up in documentaries following this film. The trope was beaten to death by a little show called “Scandalmakers”. “Perhaps an attic shall I seek.”

• Once again, “Documentary Now!” absolutely nails the film they’re lampooning with “The Eye Doesn’t Lie”.

#239) Regeneration (1915)

OR “Content Dictates Reform”

Directed by Raoul Walsh

Written by Walsh and Carl Harbaugh. Adapted from the book “My Mamie Rose” by Owen Kildare.

Class of 2000

The Plot: Owen Conway (Rockliffe Fellowes) has lived a tough life. His mother died when he was very young, his foster parents were abusive alcoholics, and he eventually ends up on the street and joining a gang (and this is all in the first 10 minutes!). One day he meets upper-class socialite Marie Deering (Anna Q. Nilsson). They are attracted to each other and Owen is compelled to change his ways. Owen wants to escape his life of crime, but is it too late?

Why It Matters: The NFR praises director Walsh, specifically his “naturalistic edginess” and “masterful use of close ups”. There’s also a very detailed essay by Raoul Walsh expert Marilyn Ann Moss.

But Does It Really?: This one is “historical significance” at best. “Regeneration” was the beginning of Raoul Walsh’s 50-year career as a director, and one of the first movies produced by Fox Films (now 20^th Century Fox). As a viewing experience over 100 years later, it’s a bit on the slow side, but there are some interesting bits of film technique throughout (you can see the Griffith influence with Walsh’s use of intercutting). “Regeneration” is a noteworthy, if not pivotal, moment in American film history. In terms of its place among classic silent films, it falls somewhere down the middle: not on the same level as Chaplin or Griffith, but not an excruciating viewing experience either. “Regeneration” may only work as an academic viewing for the serious film buff, but it won’t be on the final.

Everybody Gets One: Almost everyone in this film, with the exception of Walsh and Nilsson. Leading actor Rockliffe Fellowes was one of many silent film stars who didn’t quite make the transition to talkies. Cinematographer Georges Benoit had just arrived from France and would collaborate with Raoul Walsh over the next few years.

Wow, That’s Dated: Aside from the slum life of the early 1910s, this film depicts a time when police officers would all pile into one car like the Keystone Kops.

Other notes

• It’s been a while since I’ve had a “Belloq Film” on the list. “Regeneration” was presumed lost until a print was found in the ‘70s.
• Owen’s mother is “passing gratefully”? Shouldn’t that be “gracefully”? I don’t think she appreciates dying.
• Yikes, Oliver Twist had a better upbringing.
• Owen could really benefit from the Fresh Air Fund. While you’re there can you figure out what happened to that kid on the boat?
• Whoa, lots of glue marks on this print. The Library of Congress can only do so much.
• If the name Anna Q. Nilsson sounds familiar, you’re remembering her from her brief appearance in “Sunset Boulevard”. She plays herself as one of Norma Desmond’s “waxworks” at the bridge game. “Regeneration” showcases Nilsson in her prime as an actress.
• Co-writer Carl Harbaugh shows up in this film as D.A. Ames.
• In his quest for realism, Raoul Walsh filmed on location and populated his scenes with real life residents of the Lower East Side (including prostitutes and gangsters). We know this to be true because let’s just say some of these extras have faces for radio.
• The highlight of the film may be the fire onboard the ferry. Boy, that escalated quickly. I do enjoy the intertitle assuring us that “[a]ll the kiddies were saved.”
• Skinny has excellent depth perception for someone with an eye patch.
• And then Walsh gets arty with some optical effects. Though the bible quote “Vengeance is Mind, Saith the Lord” seems a bit harsh. Surely there’s another way to phrase that.
• So the moral of this film is don’t trust anyone?

Legacy

• Raoul Walsh would go on to direct three more films that would make the NFR: “The Thief of Bagdad”, “The Big Trail”, and “White Heat”.

Further Viewing: And now, because you’ve been so patient, here’s the obvious “Doctor Who” reference I’ve refrained from making until this moment.

#238) A Streetcar Named Desire (1951)

OR “A Method to Her Madness”

Directed by Elia Kazan

Written by Tennessee Williams, based on his play. Adaptation by Oscar Saul.

Class of 1999

The Plot: The French Quarter of New Orleans gets an unexpected visitor when southern belle Blanche DuBois (Vivien Leigh) arrives from Mississippi to stay with her younger sister Stella (Kim Hunter). Blanche has a hard time adjusting to Stella’s cheap apartment, and an even harder time coexisting with Stella’s barbaric husband Stanley (Marlon Brando), who immediately questions Blanche’s stories. During the course of Blanche’s stay her mental health starts deteriorating, putting her relationship with Stanley’s poker buddy Mitch (Karl Malden) in jeopardy. Can three Tennessee Williams characters share an apartment without driving each other crazy? (Spoilers: No. No they cannot.)

Why It Matters: No superlatives from the NFR, just a plot summary, a few pieces of trivia, and a poster!

But Does It Really?: The play is better, but the movie is still one of the best stage to film adaptations. “Streetcar” is one of those rare movies where everyone is on the same page. There isn’t a false note in any of the performances, with Leigh, Brando, and Hunter at the center giving strong, conflicted characterizations. The film suffers from some Production Code meddling (Homosexuality? What’s that?), but Kazan et al are able to rise above it and create a film that can stand alongside the play as a classic by its own merits.

Everybody Gets One: Most of the film’s supporting cast, many of whom had originated their roles on Broadway. Among them Peg Hillias as Eunice, Edna Thomas as the Flower Lady, and Ann Dere as the Nurse.

Wow, That’s Dated: The title was already dated before the film came out. The actual “Desire” streetcar stopped running in 1948, and had to be brought in from New Orleans especially for the film.

Title Track: Blanche says the title once at the very beginning to a character credited as “The Helpful Sailor”. Fun Fact: That’s Mickey Kuhn, aka Beau Wilkes from “Gone with the Wind”. It’s the reunion we all wanted!

Seriously, Oscars?: “A Streetcar Named Desire” led the pack at the 1951 Oscars with 12 nominations, and walked away with four awards: Actress (Leigh), Supporting Actor (Malden), Supporting Actress (Hunter), and Art Direction (Richard Day & George James Hopkins). First-time nominee Brando famously lost Best Actor to overdue Humphrey Bogart for “The African Queen”, and the film lost Best Picture to “An American in Paris”. Five of the film’s other nominations went to fellow NFR entry “A Place in the Sun”.

Other notes

• In addition to director Elia Kazan, nine actors made the transition from stage to screen. The major exception was Blanche, originally played by Jessica Tandy. Vivien Leigh did play the role in the West End (directed by Laurence Olivier), and was chosen over Tandy for her star power. Tandy’s film career took off eventually.
• During the opening credits, the title is preceded by the preface “The Pulitzer Prize and New York Critics Award Play”. For the record, the Tony Awards opted for “Mister Roberts” that year. Seriously, Tonys?
• I gotta say, Vivien Leigh does a good American accent. Of course she had some prior experience.
• This isn’t his film debut, but this is where Marlon Brando catapulted to fame. In one fell swoop, America was struck by his natural acting style unlike any seen in film before, while at the same time completely baffled trying to figure out what the hell he was saying.
• It’s hard to match Tennessee Williams’ flowery and poetic dialogue with realistic Method acting, but this cast finds the balance quite well. Almost like they performed this script eight times a week for several months.
• My favorite line no one quotes: “Funerals are pretty compared to deaths.”
• I’m sure there had been previous attempts to bring the Method to Hollywood, but it helps that Marlon Brando takes his shirt off.
• Greek-American actor Nick Dennis IS Pablo Gonzales.
• Kudos to Kim Hunter, whose walk down the stairway after Stanley’s “Hey Stella” was so sexually charged it had to be trimmed by the censors.

• Of course Stella has no objection to Blanche calling Stanley and his friends “apes”. She knows that in the future apes will try to domesticate the humans.
• Oh Malden, you’re so endearing in this part. You just want to take Mitch home with you. Well…except for the part where he tries to assault Blanche. That’s out of line.
• Yeah, the play’s edges are dulled by the Production Code censoring. There’s still sexual tension throughout, but the neutering prevents it from getting where it needs to be.
• A lot of ripping clothes in this film. Stanley goes through more shirts than the Incredible Hulk.
• This film’s use of sound should not be underestimated. It helps highlight Blanche’s descent into madness in a way you can’t on stage. It’s a shame the Warner Bros. sound department lost the Oscar to “The Great Caruso”.
• “Whoever you are, I have always depended on the kindness of strangers.” Oof, that still stings.

Legacy

• Thanks to the iconic performances in this film, every revival of the play has been forced to live in the movie’s shadow.
• There have been two TV remakes of “Streetcar”, both of which aimed to be more faithful to the stage version. The 1984 ABC broadcast starred Ann-Margret and Treat Williams (plus two actors from “National Lampoon’s Vacation”), and the 1995 CBS version saw Alec Baldwin and Jessica Lange recreating their Broadway performances.

• Lots of quotable lines from this film, most memorably Stanley’s cry of “Steeeelllaaaaaa!” There’s even a contest in New Orleans every year to see who can painfully cry for their abused spouse after a physical outburst the best.

• Both Pedro Almodovar’s “All About My Mother” and Woody Allen’s “Blue Jasmine” are strongly influenced by “Streetcar”.

• “Streetcar” is responsible for two of television’s greatest moments. The first, a full-blown musical parody courtesy of some prime “Simpsons”.

• And secondly, this dummy.

Listen to This: The soundtrack album of Alex North’s groundbreaking “Streetcar” score was added to the National Recording Registry in 2015. The NRR calls it “the first [film score] to integrate jazz into a major motion picture” and states that the music is used to “express a character’s emotions, even if those emotions are in conflict with the action.”

#237) Dont Look Back (1967)

OR “London Calling, Yes, Bob Was There Too”

Directed by D.A. Pennebaker

Class of 1998

The Plot: Freewheelin’ singer/songwriter (don’t call him “folk singer”) Bob Dylan is going to England for his first major tour, and D.A. Pennebaker is there to film it all! Travelling with his entourage (including then-girlfriend Joan Baez), Dylan goes from Sheffield to Liverpool to London in a matter of two weeks in spring 1965. He sings his hits, but this film is mostly Dylan dealing with fame, show business, and some new up-and-coming singer named Donovan everybody keeps comparing him to.

Why It Matters: The NFR (which misspells the title, by the way) praises Pennebaker, saying his cinema vérité style “captures the enigma of Dylan”. They also call Bob Dylan a “fascinating subject”.

But Does It Really?: Lets chalk up “Dont Look Back” to “aesthetically significant”. I got nothing against Bob Dylan, I’ve just never paid him any mind. That being said, I did enjoy the film. Pennebaker knows how to take performers and get you to see the people under the persona. Dylan is the conflicting dichotomy you expect from a young artist-turned-celebrity; earnest, cocky, down-to-earth, arrogant. Bob Dylan has a massive footprint on American culture, and thank God Pennebaker was there to capture this pivotal turning point in his never-ending career. If you’re a Dylan fan, you’ll get a lot more out of this than I did.

Everybody Gets One: There’s no way I can unpack everything about Bob Dylan in this post. What I will say is that by the time filming began, the former Robert Zimmerman was already an established singer-songwriter caught up in the protests and civil rights movements of the era. He settled on England for his first tour after performing in a few clubs in London in 1963. He even appeared in a teleplay while he was there (“Madhouse on Castle Street”, which gets a shoutout in the film). Fun Fact: Bob got his stage name while reading poems by Dylan Thomas.

Wow, That’s Dated: Mid-60’s London: there’s nothing else quite like it. The men adorn their Beatles-moptops, the women their layers of hairspray. Also, at one point folk-singer Bob Neuwirth does a decent Lyndon Johnson impression.

Title Track: A few things about the title: it’s not taken from the Dylan song “She Belongs To Me”, but rather a quote from baseball player Satchel Paige: “Don’t look back, something might be gaining on you.” Also, the lack of an apostrophe is intentional.

Seriously, Oscars?: No Best Documentary nomination for “Dont Look Back”. Coincidentally, one of the nominees that year was “Festival”, a look at the Newport Folk Festival that features performances by Bob Dylan and Joan Baez. “Festival” lost out to “The Anderson Platoon”, a French documentary about the Vietnam War.

Other notes

• We start off with the iconic “music video” for Bob’s “Subterranean Homesick Blues”. Dylan and Pennebaker filmed it after the tour, but stuck it at the beginning of the film. If he hadn’t been a singer-songwriter, Bob could have been an excellent cue-card boy. And yes, that’s Allen Ginsberg in the background.

• Bob Dylan was 24 when he did this tour, which explains a lot of his attitudes and actions. I thought I knew everything when I was 24, too. Also, Bob is from Minnesota? Would’ve lost that bet.
• Does Bob Dylan look like Cate Blanchett or does Cate Blanchett look like Bob Dylan?
• Fans must have known where Bob Dylan was going to show up, there’s a camera crew at the ready!
• Wow, manager Albert Grossman does not mess around. It must be tough going through life looking like Garrison Keiller.
• During one of the concerts, Bob’s microphone becomes unplugged. Are we sure Pennebaker wasn’t creating drama for his own movie?
• Wow, being famous seems terrifying.
• Bob looks fascinated by the electric guitar in the store. How much is that fan alienation in the window?
• Oh man, this scene of Bob antagonizing the science student goes on forever. The student in question is Terry Ellis, who is now a successful record producer in his own right. So I guess it was worth it?
• And then Donovan finally shows up. They seem cordial with each other, performing for each other and chatting. Not nearly as climactic as it’s intended to be. Side Note: I have a soft spot for “Atlantis”.
• Was the Dylan tour America’s retaliation for the British Invasion?
• Bob makes a lot of good (albeit tense) points during his Time magazine interview. At one point he says, “The truth is just a plain picture.” Not unlike Pennebaker’s style of documentary filmmaking.

Legacy

• The Short Version: Bob Dylan more or less stopped playing acoustic guitar after this tour, and would go on to (among countless other things) convert to Christianity, win an Oscar and a Nobel Prize, and be on the same tour for the last 30 years.

• Dylan and Pennebaker reunited for “Eat the Document”, which, with the exception of a few clips in Martin Scorsese’s “No Direction Home”, has not seen the light of day.

• Pennebaker returned to the film yet again in 2007, using outtakes to make a whole new film, “65 Revisited”.

• “Sebastian Cabot, Actor. Bob Dylan, Poet.” It’s a frickin’ masterpiece.

• The movie “Bob Roberts” makes a lot of references to this movie. Did not see that one coming.

• The footage of “Subterranean Homesick Blues” has been spoofed many times, but all you really need is “Bob”.

• Bob’s line “Give the anarchist a cigarette” has had a life all its own, being referenced in various songs through the years.

• And of course, the well-made but drastic departure of a sequel: “Don’t Look Now”.

Further Viewing: In the vein of “Dont Look Back”, my favorite Pennebaker film is “Original Cast Recording: Company”. Like the title suggests, Pennebaker witnesses the creatives behind the Sondheim musical “Company” spend 14 hours recording their Broadway cast album. Come for the insight, stay for Elaine Stritch’s finest film performance.

Listen to This: Readers, I give you “The Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan”.

#236) The Thin Man (1934)

OR “Nick & Nora’s Infinite Jest”

Directed by W.S. Van Dyke

Written by Albert Hackett & Frances Goodrich. Based on the novel by Dashiell Hammett.

Class of 1997

The Plot: Inventor Clyde Wynant (Edward Ellis) has gone missing, and his daughter Dorothy (Maureen O’Sullivan) wants family friend Nick Charles (William Powell) on the case. Nick is a retired detective who would rather spend the holidays in New York with his heiress wife Nora (Myrna Loy), their dog Asta (Skippy) and plenty of drinks and quips between them. But the mystery unfolds further when Clyde’s secretary/mistress Julia (Natalie Moorhead) is found dead. Who is the killer? What became of Clyde? And how does one get the nickname “The Thin Man”? Like the Charleses’ minibar, this case is wide open.

Why It Matters: The NFR write-up for “The Thin Man” doesn’t have specific superlatives, but they do mention the film’s general plot, Oscar nominations, and sustained popularity.

But Does It Really?: I liked this movie. I didn’t love it, but I did like it. William Powell and Myrna Loy are effortlessly charming and comfortable with each other; it’s no wonder they did five more of these. I never laughed out loud, but the back-and-forth rapport between these two did make me chuckle out loud several times (COL?). This is also one of the rare comedy/mystery movies where the mystery is actually good. Not surprising from the author of “The Maltese Falcon”, but it’s refreshing to have a movie that’s funny as well as suspenseful. Nick & Nora Charles are two indelible movie characters, and “The Thin Man” is a natural choice for the NFR.

Everybody Gets One: Most of the supporting cast, notably Cesar “The Joker” Romero. Shoutout to Natalie Moorhead as Julia (aka “the vic”) and Edward Ellis as Clyde (aka “The Thin Man”).

Wow, That’s Dated: Ah, the high-end lifestyle of post-prohibition America. Drinks flow freely and openly, but are still somewhat taboo.

Title Track: Nick actually does reference the “thin man” once about an hour into the film. It should be noted, however, that “The Thin Man” is only relevant in this entry. The sequels had “Thin Man” in the title solely for brand recognition.

Seriously, Oscars?: A critical and commercial hit, “The Thin Man” received four Oscar nominations: Picture, Director, Adapted Screenplay, and Actor for William Powell. It lost in all four categories to the first film to sweep the Oscars: Frank Capra’s “It Happened One Night”. William Powell and W.S. Van Dyke never won an Oscar in either of their prolific film careers. “The Thin Man” could have gone 0-5 if Myrna Loy had been nominated for Best Actress, but she didn’t make the cut. While never nominated for an Oscar, Ms. Loy did finally receive an honorary award in 1991.

Other notes

• Part of the film’s endearing spontaneity is due to the direction of W.S. Van Dyke. Notorious for keeping retakes to a minimum, while bringing his films in on time and under budget, Van Dyke was known by his nickname, “One Take Woody”.
• Albert Hackett and Frances Goodrich had been married for two years when assigned to adapt “The Thin Man”. They were informed by MGM to leave the mystery parts alone and focus on the dialogue between Nick & Nora. Incidentally, Dashiell Hammett based a lot of their dialogue in the book on his relationship with Lillian Hellman, which means the movie “Julia” should have been a lot funnier.
• Just a reminder that Maureen O’Sullivan is Mia Farrow’s mom.
• Nick and Nora don’t show up until Reel Two. That’s a long time to spend with the victim and the suspects. For a moment I thought I was watching the wrong movie.
• Once the Charleses do show up, the movie really finds its footing. I could listen to this verbal tennis match all day.
• “The Thin Man” is another movie for my “Die Hard” Not-Christmas List. Most of the film takes place around Christmas, but the Charleses just use it as excuse to drink more. Nora even has the great line “Next person who says, ‘Merry Christmas’ to me I’ll kill ‘em!”
• I get the feeling Minna Gombell got a lot of roles originally turned down by Billie Burke.
• Apparently the scene wipe had just been invented: we get four or five in a matter of minutes.
• Edward Brophy as Morrelli is the most ‘30s thing about this movie. He’s not Edward G. Robinson, but he’s definitely the fast-talking gangster trope that people think of. Fun Fact: Brophy shows up in “The Thin Man Goes Home” as a completely different character!
• A sign of a time pre-Miranda rights: the police punch the criminal in custody.
• My favorite exchange in the film: “Ever heard of the Solomon Act?” “It’s alright; we’re married.”
• The actual case keeps you guessing, but was I suppose to follow all of that? Hammett’s throwing a lot at me.
• I thoroughly enjoy Nick & Nora’s pronunciation of “suspects” with the emphasis on the second syllable. Very “Too Much Tuna”. Go ahead, try it. Fun, right?
• It comes as no surprise that Nick Charles would gather all of his suspects (still great) at a formal dinner. William Powell allegedly hated all of the dialogue he had to memorize for Nick’s summation, but the final result is effortless and wonderfully tense.
• You could have ended with a train tunnel shot and you didn’t? Come on, movie!

Legacy

• Over the next fifteen years, Powell & Loy reprised their iconic roles in five sequels, solving mysteries and trading barbs and drinking way above the legal limit.

• Airing on ABC for two seasons, “The Thin Man” TV series saw Peter Lawford and Phyllis Kirk taking over the lead roles, while the setting was transplanted to the Greenwich Village of the late ‘50s.

• I will find any excuse to reference Dick & Dora Charleston from “Murder by Death”.

• One of the most notorious duds in Broadway history, the musical “Nick & Nora” ran for just 9 performances in December 1991. I have some thoughts (see “A Brief Editorial” below).

• And of course, if you know one thing about “The Thin Man”, it’s their dog’s name. “Asta” is an answer in every crossword puzzle I’ve ever done.

A Brief Editorial: While I was far too young to have seen “Nick & Nora” on Broadway, I did see the only other production of it: A 2015 run at 42nd St. Moon in San Francisco. I cannot comment on the actual production (they did the best with what they were given), but the show gave me a better understanding of why “Nick & Nora” failed as a musical.

For starters, these aren’t characters that should be singing. If you’re going to convert witty banter to the stage, the appropriate adaptation is a straight play, not brief book scenes jammed in-between songs. As for the show itself, “Nick & Nora” starts off assuming you know who these two characters are, with no attempt at even the briefest of exposition (“Another martini, my retired detective husband?”) Even if you do know who Nick & Nora Charles are, their dynamic is immediately flipped at the start of the show when, out of heretofore unmentioned envy, Nora decides that she wants to be the one who takes on a case, in this instance a Hollywood murder one of Nora’s old friends is a suspect in. This culminates in the two having an argument at the end of Act I and going their separate ways, only to reconcile at the very beginning of Act II, leaving all that forced drama with zero emotional weight. And on top of all this, I figured out who did it by intermission (and I ain’t exactly Poirot in these situations). The writers foolishly label one major character a red herring too early on, making their absence throughout the show more conspicuous. “Nick & Nora” is a misguided musical that misses the essence of its source material, which shouldn’t have been musicalized in the first place.