After the Thin Man

Actually, Mr. Movie Poster, it's "Mr. and Mrs. Charles are back."  The "thin man" from the first film referred to a missing person, not William Powell's character.  What's that, 1930s moviegoers?  You've decided to make William Powell the "thin man?"  Um.  Okay.  I guess it's too late to do anything about that now.

After the Thin Man takes place, appropriately enough, immediately following The Thin Man.  Does that mean you should be familiar with the first film to enjoy this one?  Not at all; if you haven't seen the first movie, though, you really ought to give it a try --- it's a treat.  Nick (William Powell) and Nora (Myrna Loy) Charles have arrived via train to their home in San Francisco, just in time for New Year's Eve.  Unfortunately for Nick, the pair are expected to join Nora's family for a fancy formal dinner party.  No one in Nora's family seems to like Nick, either because he married into his money or because he's a lush or because he's a bit of a smart-ass. 

Tuxes for a dinner with the family?  That doesn't sound stuffy at all

For better or worse, the evening takes an interesting turn when it appears that the nogoodnick husband, Robert (Alan Marshal), of Nora's cousin, Selma, is missing.  The family has never liked Robert, but if they didn't resolve his disappearance soon, it was worried that Selma would get dramatically crazy and bring shame to the family name.  The disappearance is easy enough for Nick and Nora to solve, but it is almost immediately followed by a murder in which Selma is the prime suspect.  What's a moderately bored and perennially drunk amateur gumshoe to do, but solve the mystery and put a neat bow on it?

After the Thin Man is an interesting bit of early Hollywood.  The first film was a big hit and this was only the first of five (!) sequels.  The original film was based on Dashiell Hammett's final novel, but this was completely original.  Hammett was hired to write the story for After the Thin Man, with the talented team of Frances Goodrich and Albert Hackett returning to turn his story into an acceptable screenplay.  I don't know any specifics (because I'm too lazy to do any actual research), but I know that Hammett's post-novelist years were filled with sickness and booze, so it should not be surprising that the story here is not as intricate as in the original film.  Nevertheless, it manages to overcome some Scooby-Doo-esque plot twists and typical 1930s film tropes and it remains an entertaining bit of lighthearted comedy, even by today's standards.

Ha ha ha!  Get it?  She's being arrested for murder!

The key to this film working once again rests on the shoulders of William Powell and Myrna Loy.  Powell's charm and excellent line delivery are essential to this film, but it is the banter between him and Loy that really makes the movie succeed.  Loy's role is a little less entertaining this time around (she has to be nice to her family, after all), but she is still more than a capable foil for Powell's wit.  As much as I enjoyed watching the duo feign drunkenness in the first film, I enjoyed their interactions more in this one.  They were a pleasant blend of mean and tender that is surprisingly believable in a couple.

As a married man, I am all too familiar with that look

The supporting cast is a little more noteworthy in this sequel.  I was surprised to see a young James Stewart in his first substantial film role; this is the first time I have seen him in a non-leading role, so it was interesting to see his typical aw-shucks charm being applied to someone who wasn't the main hero.

Maybe he's the titular thin man?

The rest of the supporting cast is less spectacular, but a number of recognizable people played small roles.  Penny Singleton (the voice for Jane Jetson) plays a scheming nightclub singer.  Noir actor Sam Levene plays the hapless policeman forced to look like a fool next to Nick Charles.  Hard-working character actor Paul Fix also has a small part.  My favorite of the less famous supporting actors was Joseph Calleia, though; the man was such a great movie villain that it doesn't really matter that his character here was relatively tame.

Joseph "Born Evil" Calleia

Like the original film, After the Thin Man was directed by W.S. Van Dyke.  His direction is adequate from a technical standpoint --- don't expect to see any subtext or clever uses of frame or lighting here --- but he once again handled the cast quite well.  With the bulk of this movie relying on the charm and chemistry between its stars, Van Dyke's touch with the actors was critical.  On the other hand, with a considerably less dense script than the first film, Van Dyke's limitations are a bit more obvious.  The supporting actors are portrayed in broad strokes with very little complexity and Van Dyke panders to the audience a little too much when it comes to the dog.

Actual subplot: Asta is depressed, thanks to an unfaithful wife

After the Thin Man fares best when it is not directly compared to its predecessor.  Nick and Nora are still a lot of fun to watch and their dialogue is more than worth the price of admission.  This movie is a bit more cute than actually funny, but it is still a fun watch.  It certainly could have used a more compelling mystery, but the charm of the main characters helps balance that.  Perhaps the film's biggest miss was its inability to actually make anything look seedy. 

This is their idea of a dive bar

It is fun to watch Nick interact with criminals (to Nora's amusement), but I would have liked them to appear out of their element at either (or both) ends of the social spectrum; here is a film with snooty rich folk looking down their nose, as well as nightclub patrons planning on theft and murder --- and the Charles' never miss a beat.  As good as Nick and Nora are, I would have liked to see them unsettled at least once.  While I doubt anyone will argue that After the Thin Man is a masterpiece, it is still a fun, disposable bit of film fluff.  Many great films have had truly unfortunate sequels, but this isn't one of them.

Mr. Smith Goes to Washington

My first knowledge of Mr. Smith Goes to Washington came from an episode of The Simpsons, which had Homer helping Mel Gibson spice up the ending to Mel's remake of this classic.  If you're unfamiliar with the episode, check it out here.  I took a few tidbits away from that show.  First, never dismiss the power of shifty eyes.  Second, there is apparently very little vigilante justice in the original Mr. Smith.  Years went by, and I never got around to seeing the movie.  One day, I got curious and researched it a little and was impressed by what I found.  It was directed by Frank Capra, who also directed It's a Wonderful Life and Arsenic and Old Lace, two of my favorite movies from Hollywood's Golden Age.  It was nominated for eleven Academy Awards, (including Best Actor for James Stewart, Director for Capra, and Best Picture) but won only one because it had the misfortune of being released in the same year as Gone With the Wind, Stagecoach, and The Wizard of Oz.  It is also ranked right around #100 on IMDB's Top 250 rated films, of which I have seen about 180.  Pitiful, I know.  So, with high expectations and a desire to slowly chip away at my IMDB 250 checklist, I rented Mr. Smith Goes to Washington.

So...many...paper cuts...!

After one of his state's US Senators dies in office, the corrupt Governor "Happy" Hopper (Guy Kibbee) is faced with a pickle of a problem (to use the parlance of the times).  You see, Happy's string-pulling political boss, Jim Taylor (Edward Arnold), wants Happy to appoint one of his stooges, a yes man that will do whatever Taylor tells him to.  However, the people of Happy's unnamed state are quite vocal with their displeasure for that idea; they want to see a reform-minded man in office.  Happy's children suggest Jefferson Smith (James Stewart), the head of the Boy Scouts Rangers.  Happy knows that he can't cross Taylor and win his next re-election, but he also can't antagonize his constituents further with his obvious ties to the political boss.  So, thanks to a pretty unlikely coin flip, he chooses Jefferson Smith to be the junior Senator for Monfornirado (that's just my logical guess as to his state).  So, if you've ever wondered how politicians can make some of their choices, now you know: they listen to their children.

Mr. Smith is just flattered at the invitation and the chance to do Senator things with his state's senior Senator, Joe Paine (Claude Rains), a dear friend of Smith's late father.  All's well in Washington, right?  Not so fast.  Senator Paine might seem sincere, but he is secretly a stooge of Jim Taylor.  "No, not Senator Paine!?!"  I'm sorry to be the one to break the news to you, but it's true.  The Taylor political machine has a scam in the works to skim money off a publicly funded dam; Senator Paine is in on the deal and is the primary supporter of the bill needed to put the scam in motion.  Jefferson Smith starts out, essentially, like a tourist in a new city; everyone knows that he was appointed to be a seat-filler and not accomplish anything, so nobody takes him seriously.  To keep Smith busy, Paine suggests that he write and propose a bill to the Senate.  Being the head Boy Ranger, Smith wants to create a national boy's camp in his home state...exactly where the proposed dam is supposed to be built.  When he proposes his bill, Jefferson Smith, the country wolf to Paine's city wolf, suddenly becomes an unwitting enemy of the Taylor machine.

Like you wouldn't pay to see Jimmy "Aww Shucks" Stewart as a sex-crazed wolf.

Normally, any opponent of Taylor finds himself ground to dust in a matter of hours; Taylor has politicians and newspapermen (remember those?) in every pocket, and he likes to destroy his enemy and salt the earth so they can never grow again.  But Taylor has never faced Jefferson Smith, a man willing to fight back because he believes in the god-blessed U. S. of A.

For being made 30+ years before Watergate, this movie has a pretty modern view on how politics work.  I imagine that, at the time, this was a pretty controversial take on the political body; more importantly, this cynicism prevents Mr. Smith Goes to Washington from feeling like a movie made in 1939.  And yet, despite this cynicism, the underlying tone is unabashedly idealistic.  You just don't see movies that are this earnest any more. 

Okay, so the tone of the movie is both in step and out of step with our times.  How does the acting hold up?  Well, let me put it to you like this: I love me some Jimmy Stewart.  Personally, I'm fonder of his later performances, but the young James Stewart was no slouch, either.

Jimmy, about to make a very racist joke.

It is very difficult to play an earnest character without making him a comic character or overly melodramatic, but Stewart plays the part perfectly.  Really, the Jefferson Smith character is perhaps the personification of the American ideal (hard-working, optimistic, can-do, honest, etc.), and it's hard to take a character that goodie-goodie and make him...well, not annoying.  Stewart infuses his role with charm, wit, genuine emotions, and a childlike innocence, so that when he goes on about how great America is, I somehow get something stuck in my eye every time.  He doesn't fight his battle on his own, though; Jean Arthur does a good job as the jaded Washington insider that falls for Smith and his dreams, despite her better judgment.  Really, the entire cast is pretty special.  Thomas Mitchell (who won an Oscar for Stagecoach that same year) was also fun as a drunken reporter.  This film also has two actors that were nominated for Best Supporting Actor for their work, Claude Rains and Harry Carey.

"Holy cow!  I got nominated for an Oscar?  Let me put my pants on..."  No, I said Carey, not Caray.

Rains' character is a little melodramatic for my taste, but he plays the part well enough.  Carey has a very small part in the film and it is mostly nonverbal, but I really liked his portrayal of the Vice President/President of the Senate.  I think it's cool that a bit part full of smirks and sideways glances could get an Oscar nomination, and this was a fun role.  The rest of the cast is okay, but these were the standouts.

Frank Capra really knew how to make movies that were appealing to everyone.  I wouldn't normally think of a story of political disenchantment as something I would enjoy, but Capra is able to blend humor and drama together to great effect.  While I don't think the camera work in this film is particularly outstanding, the scenes were framed well (lots of pretty pictures) and the Capra is a master craftsman when it comes to telling a story.  As the three acting Oscar nominations suggest, Capra worked well with the cast as a whole and Stewart in particular, which is one reason why this was Jimmy's breakout performance.

Capra's dramas tend to be morality tales, with all the good and bad that implies.  Yes, he creates likable everyman characters that overcome fantastic odds, but there are rarely shades of gray with his characters; you are either on the side of angels, or you're a bad, bad man.  With Mr. Smith, we have a extremely likable everyman that believes in the principles of our government; that earnest innocence is appealing, but also sometimes a tad corny.  Of course, that corniness is part of James Stewart's charm, so it doesn't detract from the film.  However, Capra has some tendencies toward "wah-wah" moments that add more corniness to the film than I would like.  The early scene where Governor Hopper flips a coin to decide who to appoint is a good example of this; heads, he appoints a Taylor stooge, tails he appoints a reformer --- but the coin lands on its side?!?  Wah-wah!  I also rolled my eyes when Smith begins his famous filibuster scene, which caused all the newsmen to be super excited; one even called the filibuster the most exciting moment in politics.  All I can say to that is "wow."  Those are small complaints, though.  This is still a great movie that has aged remarkably well in the past seventy years.  If you haven't seen it yet, it will give you a smile and a warm, fuzzy feeling.

Anatomy of a Murder

The courtroom drama is a hard sell for some moviegoers.  That's understandable.  The plot usually moves slowly, there is little or no action, and the movies are cerebral by their nature (unless we're talking about John Grisham adaptations, which I'm not going to get into right now).  They tend to be predictable, kind of like a sports movie, to the point where you are pretty sure which side will win; hmm...will the slick team of we-give-lawyers-a-bad-name lawyers from the big city win, or will the earnest, hard-working, and a little naive local guy pull it out?  And you just know the closing arguments from the bad guys are going to be talking about the technically legal thing to do, but the good guys will make an emotional appeal to the jury and audience.  I don't mean to imply that all courtroom dramas are predictable and terrible, but it is a genre that has gotten a bit stale in recent times.

Anatomy of a Murder, now over sixty years old, is a phenomenal example of how good courtroom dramas can be and shows how well intelligent film-making can stand the test of time.  This film tells the story of Paul Biegler (James Stewart), a former Upper Peninsula Michigan district attorney that (after losing re-election) spends his time fishing and hanging out with his alcoholic colleague Parnell (Arthur O'Connell).  Yes, he's still a lawyer, but he tends to fish during office hours and regards the law as more of a hobby than anything else.  He reluctantly agrees to consider taking a case, if only to pay his secretary's paycheck.  The case is the defense of Lt. Manion (Ben Gazzara), who is being accused of the first-degree murder of a local tavern owner, Barney Quill.  The question is not whether or not Manion killed Quill; Manion freely admits to the killing, but says that he only did it after learning that Quill had raped his wife.  Since "I was real mad" isn't the best murder defense, Biegler has some work on his hands.  Moreover, Biegler will not be defending the case against the local district attorney.  The DA will be co-heading the case with a big city lawyer, the Assistant State's Attorney General, Claude Dancer (George C. Scott).  Dancer is much smarter than the local DA, and a lot meaner in the courtroom.  So, we have the typical local, small-time lawyer against a hot shot, and we have a case that the local guy should clearly lose.  It sounds pretty typical, I know.

The subject matter is one of the distinctive features in this film.  For being 1959, including rape in a movie was a pretty big deal.  They managed it pretty well, too; it wasn't glossed over, but it wasn't presented in excruciating detail.  For the times, though, this was very explicit.  I don't think that the movie would have been helped, even a little bit, by a more explicit explanation of the rape, either, so to say that this film handled the subject matter then as well as it could be handled today is saying something.  I will admit that there are some sexual aspects of the movie that have gotten quaint over time.  For one, the word "panties" elicits outright laughter from the adult onlookers.  For another, Laura Manion (Lee Remick) is accused of dressing provocatively (because that would excuse rape, obviously), but provocative in 1959 has absolutely no resemblance to provocative in 2010.  Still, it is kind of cute seeing James Stewart being distracted by a pretty girl in clothes that scandalously cling to her body.  Gasp.

Another unusual aspect of this film is its moral ambiguity.  From the start, neither Beigler nor the audience believe that Lt. Manion did anything but murder a man because he was angry.  Beigler takes the case though, but only after all but spelling out to Manion that he should feign temporary insanity.  That's a little shady, I guess, but it is the only argument that can win the defense's case, so it's understandable.  Manion isn't a nice guy, though; Laura Manion opened the movie with a black eye that Manion gave her.  There is a very plausible argument that Manion killed Barney Quill for having consensual sex with Laura.  Beigler figures this out, but does his best to get Manion acquitted anyway.  This is pretty realistic, of course, but this honesty is almost unheard of in Hollywood movies.

Perhaps the most unusual thing about this film is the closing arguments.  Specifically, the complete lack thereof.  That's right, this courtroom drama omits the emotional closing arguments.  The movie does not need them, but it is a surprising absence nonetheless.

This movie is not star-studded, but the acting is very good.  James Stewart is charming, of course, and is always fun to watch when he plays an intelligent character.  I don't know what it is exactly, but there is something about his laid-back drawl and his crafty eyes that just makes him fun to watch in roles like this.  George C. Scott is another perennially fun actor to watch, and he does not disappoint here.  Part of his job here is to be Stewart's opposite, and he fills the role admirably; where Stewart is soft and slow, Scott is loud and quick.  The rest of the cast is less stellar, but they play their parts well enough.  Ben Gazzara does not do a great job showing layers of emotion, but he does succeed in portraying a character that has anger bubbling under the face he shows the world.  Lee Remick's role has a surprising amount of depth to it, and she does a pretty good job capturing anger, confusion, immaturity, shame, and fear in the limited time she has on screen.  She's not a great actress, but this was undoubtedly her best performance.  Arthur O'Connell, while likable as the hard-drinking legal eagle, was less convincing; part of this is due to a script that has him give up years of drinking cold turkey with little or no consequences, but he doesn't play a great drunk, either.  On the other hand, Joseph Welch did a very good job as the judge, and casting him was an inspired choice; he is more famously known as the lawyer that asked Joseph McCarthy if he had "no sense of decency."

This movie did not win any Oscars, but was nominated for seven.  The more prominent categories included Best Picture, Best Actor (Stewart), Best Supporting Actor (Scott), Best Supporting Actor (O'Connell), Best Cinematography (Black-and-White category), and Best Adapted Screenplay.  You might notice that Otto Preminger was not nominated for his direction in this film, which is odd, considering that the cinematography was.  I don't find anything particularly interesting with Preminger's direction, but he was a major force in making the picture (he produced the movie), so I think he made a deliberate decision to approach the direction as straightforward as he could.  Obviously, it worked out quite well.  He also made the decision to give this film a jazz soundtrack, performed by Duke Ellington's orchestra, which was possibly the first major motion picture to devote the soundtrack solely to jazz.  It's not a huge part of the movie, but I think it gives Stewart's character an added dimension that helps explain how he is able to think outside the box so well.

Anatomy of a Murder, when it begins, does not reach out and grab you.  It is a well-constructed film that builds itself up over time.  Rarely do I enjoy courtroom dramas so much, and this is a movie that follows the case for the entire film.  There are no threats against Beigler's family, or any love interests.  This is a movie about a trial, and that's all.  For my money though, it is the best trial movie ever.