After the Thin Man (1936)

I can only think of a few sequels that were better than the original - The Empire Strikes Back, Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, Goldfinger, High School Musical 2 (joking, of course - the first was better). Now we ought to add W.S. Van Dyke's sequel to The Thin Man - the appropriately titled After the Thin Man - to that list.

Is this the first sequel in film history? Mmm, probably not - Bride of Frankenstein predates this one by a year. But the degree to which this movie improves on the original is something for which modern-day sequels could learn a thing or two; pay attention, Joel Schumacher, because your Batman movies were the lousiest sequels this side of Caddyshack II.

Capitalizing on the popularity of Nick & Nora Charles (William Powell and Myrna Loy), After the Thin Man takes the focus off the mystery and shines a spotlight squarely on the never-inebriated Charles detectives. Upon being invited to a dinner party, the Charleses learn that Nora's cousin's husband has gone missing. Though he's found easily enough, a murder mystery quickly develops with a shady cast of suspects through which Nick has to wade at his wife's insistence - despite their promise to leave sleuthing behind.

While I said I laughed the whole way through Planet Terror, it's a different kind of laughter that permeated my experience with this movie. The dialogue is smart and witty, effortlessly funny, and fueled by engrossing performances. Based on a story by Dashiell Hammett, After the Thin Man realizes that the magic of the first movie wasn't in the nail-biting mystery surrounding Clyde Wynant, but it was the interplay between Powell and Loy, which is successfully amped up here. This is a formula that Blake Edwards would repeat with A Shot in the Dark, realizing that the key to The Pink Panther's success rested not with David Niven's suave jewel thief but with Peter Sellers's hysterically bumbling turn as Jacques Clouseau.

The supporting cast is great, too. James Stewart is the stand-out name of the back-up cast, since he went on to a much larger career than most anyone in the movie, but the movie is populated with character actors and incredibly slippery suspects. Asta the terrier gets a pretty solid role, too; I don't want to spoil his subplot, but let's just say I'm surprised the filmmakers got away with this joke in 1936. *wink wink*

But the stars are unquestionably Powell and Loy, whose chemistry is something that today's supercouples can only envy - sorry, Brangelina. You can tell these two really love each other - even though Nick has Nora put into lock-up after he doesn't acknowledge her as his wife. The banter between the two of these is delightful, snappier than most of the dialogue in Juno, and the film's last line - "And you call yourself a detective!" - is the cleverest set-up for a sequel since "Luke, I am your father!"

The Thin Man (1934)

They just don't make them like The Thin Man nowadays...

In adapting Dashiell Hammett's last novel, director W.S. Van Dyke found the perfect screen pair in William Powell and Myrna Loy - heck, toss in Asta the terrier while you're at it. As Nick and Nora Charles, Powell and Loy are delightful, bearing on-screen chemistry of which most other pairs only dream. Though I haven't yet seen any of the five sequels to this movie, I'm sure I'll check them out, if only for the positively adorable pairing of Nick & Nora.

There's a mystery here somewhere about the disappearance of Clyde Wynant, the eponymous "Thin Man," but the real star is the joke-for-joke and drink-for-drink marriage of Nick and Nora Charles, wealthy socialites who can hold their liquor and banter like no other in town. Though everyone assumes Nick is on the Wynant case, Nick would much rather drink martinis and walk Asta than solve murders. Of course, once he gets on the case, it's open-and-shut.

As a mystery movie, The Thin Man isn't anything special, but at least it's easier to understand than The Big Sleep, the notoriously puzzling Bogart mystery noir by Raymond Chandler. As I said, though, the mystery isn't the star attraction, and once the killer is revealed there's no further discussion of the crime. It seems that there are two films going on at once - the plotline of Wynant's disappearance and the screwball comedy between the Charleses. The second is infinitely more interesting, without a scene elapsing without at least one belly laugh.

Of course, it says something that, no matter the irrelevance of the mystery to the overall enjoyability of the movie (similar to the Charlie Chan movie series, of which the Sidney Toler films come more highly recommended from yours truly), I'm watching this movie almost 75 years after its debut - and enjoying it.

Now I sure don't think alcoholism is funny, but Nick & Nora aren't alcoholics. They must have a wooden leg or something, especially Nick, whose ability to outdrink his wife predates the drinking contest episode of Arrested Development by about 70 years. I can't remember how much of the snappy dialogue is preserved from the original novel, but screenwriters Albert Hackett and Frances Goodrich have done a great job of crafting witty repartee.

Powell is delightfully suave as Nick Charles, the detective-by-insistence, and Loy is positively adorable as his wife Nora, whose love for her husband is as distinct as the two twin beds they sleep in. Please, God, don't let anyone try to remake this movie. Even as I write this, some Hollywood bonehead is working on a remake of The Day the Earth Stood Still with (ugh) Keanu Reeves replacing Michael Rennie.

So, George Clooney, keep your hands off The Thin Man. Because I know people will mention your name. Just don't do it. Leave perfection well enough alone.