On Blu-ray: William Powell and Myrna Loy in After The Thin Man (1936)

 

William Powell and Myrna Loy were perfectly matched as Nick and Nora Charles in the Thin Man detective film series. For that reason, of the six movies they made as the tippling marrieds, the entries that focused most on their relationship were the best. After the Thin Man (1936), the second film featuring the Charles' is especially good for that reason. I recently watched the new Warner Archive Blu-ray release of the film and enjoyed revisiting one of the best screen marriages. 

After the Thin Man doesn’t waste time building up a mystery in its opening scenes. It knows what the audience wants to see and blasts you right into the sparkling presence of Loy and Powell. After their crime-busting New York adventure, they’re returning to the West Coast, where they’re greeted by Asta, his missus and a lively litter of puppies. They’re also supposed to be surprised by a gathering of their friends, though in one of the film’s funniest scenes the party is too wild for anyone to notice the guests of honor have arrived. 

After a good taste of that Charles charm, the mystery begins. Nora drags Nick to dinner with her stuffy relatives and the pair learns that her cousin Selma (Elissa Landi) is distraught over the disappearance of her husband. While the couple tracks him down, it turns out he’s not a great guy and his plotting and deception leads to trouble for all. 

It’s quite a feat to distinguish oneself in the company of Loy and Powell, but Jimmy Stewart does just that as an old friend of Selma’s who carries a torch for her. He was still in the wobbly early phase of his career where he was just as likely to be tossed into a musical as a comedy or drama. Here he combines that doddering quality for which he would become famous with startling moments of dramatic intensity. He was previewing better things to come. 

I’m not sure what to make of the way Nick and Nora’s relationship is portrayed in the films. In the original Dashiell Hammett novel, they’ve clearly got an open marriage. Of course the Code could never allow such an arrangement, but there always seems to be a breath of that permissiveness in the films, in this case when Nick shows up with lipstick on his face and Nora wipes it off, entirely unfazed. 

The idea certainly fits with their happy rejection of polite society. You get a sense of how bored Nora was before she met Nick. She seems happy being surrounded by ex-cons, drinking into the night, and not only accepts that her man has a sketchy past and is in many ways dishonorable, she counts on it. Their love for each other is solid and the rest is just a gas. 

Special features on the disc include the Robert Benchley short How to Be a Detective, the classic cartoon The Early Bird and the Worm, a radio show featuring Powell and Loy, a Leo Is on the Air radio promo, and a theatrical trailer. 

Many thanks to Warner Archive for providing a copy of the film for review. To order, visit The Warner Archive Collection.

On Blu-ray: Connie Stevens and Dean Jones in Two on a Guillotine (1965)

I didn’t get what I expected when I watched the new Warner Archive Blu-ray of Two on a Guillotine. With the cover gruesomely displaying a disembodied head and a drop of blood dripping of the title, I anticipated a Grand Guignol-style chiller. It turns out this wasn’t to be, but I enjoyed the lighter, more William Castle-style film that it actually is.

Connie Stevens stars as Cassie Duquesne the daughter of a famous magician (played with gusto by Cesar Romero), who gave her up when she was barely out of babyhood because of his grief over the disappearance of his wife (also played by Stevens in flashbacks), who was a part of his magic act. Raised by an aunt, Cassie hasn’t heard from her father for years when she receives notice of his funeral. When she shows up at the services, those who knew her parents are stunned to see she is a dead ringer for her mother.

Cassie’s father has left a bizarre will. His house has been willed to her, but in order to get it she must stay there for seven nights. Apparently Papa has a plan to come back to her from the dead. When reporter Val Henderson (Dean Jones) hears about this unusual arrangement, he smells a great story and begins to cozy up to Cassie. Of course his ambition falters when he begins to fall in love with the charming heiress.

While there are fun chills and twisted situations to be found in Two on a Guillotine, for the most part it focuses on Cassie and Val’s relationship. There’s even an extended sequence where the pair frolic in an amusement park (director William Conrad makes a cameo appearance next to a funhouse mirror). They’re an engaging pair and much of the appeal of the movie is due to their chemistry.

The baby-voiced Stevens hasn’t won much respect for her acting chops over the years, but here she demonstrates considerable skill and reserve. While there are ample opportunities for her to become the hysterical damsel in distress, she shows great restraint in scenes of suspense and is genuine and charming in her lighter scenes with Jones. Jones is equally appealing, showing range outside of his more famous Disney live-action roles.

After tackling several television episodes, director William Conrad (most famous as a television actor in later years and as a perfect criminal heavy in films noir of earlier decades) made this film as part of a deal to produce and direct moderate budget thrillers for Warner Bros. Here the cost-cutting involved using the already existing mansion set for My Fair Lady (1964) as the haunting Duquesne abode. Conrad would helm the also entertaining My Blood Runs Cold and the underrated Brainstorm the same year.

Ultimately, Two on a Guillotine is one of those movies where you’ll have a good time if you don’t ask too many questions. Trying to envision the logistics it would require to pull off the situation it proposes is baffling. It’s even a bit disturbing that an adorable white magician’s rabbit has the run of a mansion and no one ever thinks to feed it or look where they are walking. However, if you let yourself fall in love with the leads and trust the plot to unroll its own reality, it’s a lot of fun.


Many thanks to Warner Archive for providing a copy of the film for review. To order, visit The Warner Archive Collection.

On DVD: A The Thirteenth Chair (1929/1937) Double Feature

I love the Warner Archive single title double feature DVDs because comparing two versions of the same story makes watching each film exponentially more fun. The latest release features the 1929 and 1937 productions of the drawing room mystery The Thirteenth Chair, which was adapted from a 1916 stage play.

The story of a group of supposed murder suspects who participate in a séance in order to reveal the true criminal is essentially the same, but approached in a dramatically different fashion in the two films. It’s remarkable the polish the talkies took on from 1929 to 1937. In less than a decade, the concept of how to make a movie evolved into an almost entirely different form.

Director Tod Browning’s version of The Thirteenth Chair (1929) was the second screen adaptation, there was a silent version produced by the remarkably-named Acme Pictures Corporation in 1919. In this recital of gasping, moaning, and projecting to the back row, you never for a moment forget the story’s stage roots. You are also constantly reminded that the characters are British, with constant proclamations of “By Jove!” and “Dear old chap!”

This production is most interesting for the early glimpse it offers of Bela Lugosi, one year before he would find immortality as the star of Browning’s Dracula (1930). Lugosi’s style is the most stagy of the ensemble, but it doesn’t matter, because his screen presence is enthralling. His is the most streamlined and least fussy performance, despite the fact that he always appears to be shouting to the old ladies in the balcony.

While the MGM studios gloss and more sophisticated understanding of sound filmmaking certainly helps to elevate the 1937 version of The Thirteenth Chair, there are added quirks that amplify the amusement. The more potent presence of Dame Mae Whitty as the medium also centers the film in a way Margaret Wycherly never achieves in the earlier production.

Whitty steals the film with her comic flair and self-assurance, but the unusual supporting cast also has a lot to offer. As the closest friend of the murdered man, Henry Daniell injects an intriguing air of camp and a homoerotic edge into his performance. The glamorous and slightly salty ladies of the cast are also a fascinating bunch. Madge Evans, Elissa Landi, and Heather Thatcher never rose to above-the-title stardom, but they always add zing to a film and here they rattle and rave against each other with entertaining unease. The men are less distinctive, though Lewis Stone never disappoints and is pleasantly charismatic as a police inspector.

It’s a fun double feature, and the 1937 version could stand on its own as great entertainment.

Many thanks to Warner Archive for providing a copy of the DVD for review. This is a Manufacture on Demand (MOD) DVD. To order, visit The Warner Archive Collection.