The Thin Man and the first of its five sequels, After the Thin Man, are both elegantly woven comic mysteries about a couple—retired detective Nick Charles (William Powell) and his wealthy wife Nora (Myrna Loy)—solving complex murders. Director W.S. Van Dyke introduces a new mystery-thriller-comedy formula well suited for the Charles couple, expanding it further in After to even more amusing and deft results. Both films come equipped with charismatically drunken banter, wit beyond belief, and everyone’s favorite crime-solving pup, Asta (Skippy)! Based on Dashiell Hammett’s novel of the same name, The Thin Man follows the crime-finding-and-solving duo as an inventor, Clyde Wynant (Edward Ellis), goes missing just before the wedding of his daughter, Dorothy Wynant (Maureen O’Sullivan). With a wealth-obsessed ex-wife, a mistress, and other shady business partners, any one of Clyde’s associates could be suspects—bringing a flirtatiously clever Nick back into detective mode and Nora, eager to see her husband in action, along for the ride. While The Thin Man refers to the elder Wynant, After the Thin Man (and the four other sequels) makes Detective Charles the weight-titled man, as it follows him and Nora investigating the disappearance of Nora’s cousin’s husband, Robert Landis (Alan Marshal). The Charles’s learn much about each other in their first joint case—like Nick’s unfailing cleverness and Nora’s thrill for suspense and brawl—and their second only brings them closer, providing viewers with a wittily goofy affair of drinks, death, and deceit.
Is there such a thing as the golden standard for healthy relationships? Maybe not one sure way, but a set of scenarios in which the parties involved live in loving matrimony, happily ever after? Nick and Nora Charles certainly seem to fit such a mold—or maybe they’re too drunk all the time to care about conflict. Either way, the core strength of The Thin Man and After the Thin Man is couple’s banter-filled chemistry, everlasting loyalty, and undying devotion to each other through thick and thin. Their shared sense of dry, off-the-cuff humor, combined with their playful banter and genuine affection, creates a charming dynamic that keeps viewers engaged through unexpected plots of theft, murder, and greed.
The criminal plots alone are enough to reel viewers in, though. With The Thin Man delivering a suspenseful, increasingly complex tale where different family members steal bonds or bills from each other to no end, watching Nick—with cameras cutting the sitcom-y medium shots of busy spaces in exchange for upclose looks at Nick as he solves or suspects as they slip—is irresistible. Family only does so much in bonding those within it; arguably (and this comes from a training counselor), family is the easiest target for people to manipulate, steal from, abuse, and, in the Wynants’ case, kill. Powell’s sly portrayal of the never unconfident Nick Charles reinforces the character’s demonstrated wit and devotion to his family in Nora and Asta as he calmly relents at the film’s end, “the killer is here, in this very room. Pass the fish [waiter].” Seeing it doubled down in After the Thin Man, where now just about every party really is a suspect (and somehow involved), leads to further ecstatic calamity, more laughs, and a lot more drinks.

The Thin Man introduces the Charles pair as charming, happy, and drunkenly unserious, though not without their unique benefits. As Nick downs his latest martini in the film’s opening bar, his wife does the same before ordering more—”Will you bring me five more Martinis, Leo? Line them right up here. I’ll catch up with you yet, darling,” she says to her now six-deep martini’d husband. Yet wherever they go, wealth melts from their well-endowed attire, and humor forgives their occasional lack of grace. Even as Asta stumbles through the refined bar’s fragile furnishings, sending Nora tumbling along behind him, Nick merely swoops her back up and dismisses the whole thing with a suave “Oh, it’s all right, Joe [a concerned staff member]. It’s all right. It’s my dog. And, uh, my wife.” This self-deprecating, evenly matched wit steers the Charles’s through the Wynant mystery with little more than heartier laughs and bigger rum swigs. An uneven pace significantly hinders The Thin Man’s progression at the beginning, but a quick return to Myrna Loy and William Powell’s irresistible dynamic and the excitingly unpredictable thrill of them solving the case make up for the messy opening. The Wynants, with all their financial theft between estranged spouses, sexualized parent-offspring attachments, and greedy decisions in general, are nothing in the face of the Charles couple’s devotion. The Thin Man is thus a satisfactorily clever feast of bar dives and crime cracks sure to please fans of older films, especially as (without spoiling) the Charles couple remains strong and their hearts uncorrupted.
As mentioned, After the Thin Man makes Nick the titular spectacle, recentering on him and his wife’s relationship—and Asta’s silly antics, of course! Everything that makes Thin Man so spontaneous is doubled down on in After. The murder plot—the plan, not the film’s narrative—is fast-paced, fiendish, and as messy as it is complicated and party-inclusive. Now, with it being in Nora’s wealthy family, where Nick’s not exactly welcome as Nora’s Aunt Katherine Forrest (Jessie Ralph) addresses him as “Nicholas” with demeaning enunciation of each syllable, things become far more personal. With the primary victim being Nora’s own cousin Selma Landis (Elissa Landi), whose disappeared husband eventually turns into a tale of mischievous adultery and deal-making, the Charles’s marriage is mildly doubted: “No, I was thinking of Selma,” Nick reassures Nora after he mentions how sometimes there can be doubts in relationships to his already alarmed wife. Even with the excitement around them, Nick and Nora lead their own lives together, separate from others’ dysfunction. But, as Nick shows repeatedly, with his eyes widening and veins popping only when Nora is endangered, their bond grows stronger. Plus, with new antics even for Asta as he discovers his own dog wife’s adulterous adventures, After the Thin Man reassures viewers that plots thicken even after tragedy dissipates—making for a bigger, bolder, and funnier outing in this six-film mystery-laugh saga.
Thus, W.S. Van Dyke’s Thin Man duo is a charming, lighthearted, and cleverly executed pair of funny disappearance mysteries that put love, communication, professionalism, and the safety of all parties on the line. Both films could benefit from better pacing, and the original certainly could’ve gotten as bold as the latter, but The Thin Man and After the Thin Man are nevertheless endearing, zingy, and relentless classics of ’30s American cinematic comedy. For fans of such lighthearted treats, old films, the cast, or Van Dyke, this duo is worth toasting to several times over.
1934
dir. W.S. Van Dyke
91 min.
1936
dir. W.S. Van Dyke
112 min.
Double feature Wednesday, 12/31 @ Brattle Theatre
The Thin Man screens 1:00 p.m.
After the Thin Man screens 3:00 p.m.
