A Slight Case of Murder.

Review #2370: A Slight Case of Murder.

Cast: 

Edward G. Robinson (Remy Marco), Jane Bryan (Mary Marco), Allen Jenkins (Mike), Ruth Donnelly (Nora Marco), Willard Parker (Dick Whitewood), John Litel (Mr. Post, banker), Edward Brophy (Lefty), Harold Huber (Giuseppe 'Gip'), Eric Stanley (Mr. Ritter, banker), Paul Harvey (Mr. Whitewood), and Margaret Hamilton (Mrs. Cagle) Directed by Lloyd Bacon (#562 - It Happens Every Spring, #898 - Larceny, Inc, #1340 - 42nd Street)

Review: 

Edward G. Robinson doing comedy isn't too out of left field, really. Actually, Roy Del Ruth had directed him in 1933's The Little Giant (which dealt with a bootlegger trying to go into the legit business) and John Ford had directed him in a crime comedy with 1935's The Whole Town's Talking, which dealt with a lookalike killer. A Slight Case of Murder is based on the 1935 play of the same name, which had been created by Damon Runyon (the famed writer and his one attempt at making a play) and Howard Lindsay (who actually became noted for his work in Broadway plays and musicals with Russel Crouse beginning in 1935). Earl Baldwin and Joseph Schrank were credited for the script behind this movie. Incidentally, Bacon (a very busy director in the 1930s, he apparently made over three dozen movies in that decade)* and Robinson would team up again with a gangster-related comedies with Brother Orchid (1940, which had Baldwin as a writer) and Larceny, Inc (1942), which is probably the more famous Robinson movie about a convict trying to go straight. Incidentally, Roy Del Ruth would direct a remake of A Slight Case of Murder with Stop, You're Killing Me (1952), which starred Broderick Crawford.

With a plot involving a bunch of corpses turning up in the middle of foreclosure and a cop for a possible son-in-law, you've got plenty here for a neat little comedy, even with the apparent age on display in terms of its subject matter. Every so often, I have to remember that there was some pretty crappy beer people had to deal in the old days (as opposed to now, I suppose). To be honest, even with the amount of movies that I've seen with Robinson in the cast (ten, now), I sometimes think I haven't given him his proper due as an actor, and this is saying something for a guy who honed his talents for several years on Broadway and thrived when it came to dramas, particularly since he had the temperament to sell damn near anything, from the tough guy role to the biopic (sure, that doesn't include dancing, but who's asking?). He clearly seems to be having fun here, having the talent to make the hijinks bounce off him with useful timing without turning it into straight farce or just being the straight man to strange stuff, he just happens to be involved in a silly little dark comedy that won't have too much violence but will have enough silly shifty people for 85 minutes. Donnelly pops into the action with attempts at playing natural class that results in a few chuckles, although the cast of goons-turned-assistants such as Jenkins and Brophy are worth a few laughs as well. The buildup to resolve the dead body problem is pretty amusing if not a bit abrupt (seriously it goes from calling the cops to fainting like that). These are the kind of movies that could be stamped out a dime a dozen in the old days that will work exactly for those who like something that will deliver most of the time with colorful enough people and execution in a specific age and place (dated or not) that you could call the epitome of "quick yarn". Hit or miss, you won't have your time wasted here, suffice to say. As a whole, if you are in the mood for Edward G. Robinson and a bit of silly fun with a quick pace and resourceful company around him, you will find a neat little movie here to enjoy from the old years.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

*Welcome to the four-timer club, Lloyd Bacon.

The Thin Man.

Review #1887: The Thin Man.

Cast: 

William Powell (Nick Charles), Myrna Loy (Nora Charles), Maureen O'Sullivan (Dorothy Wynant), Nat Pendleton (Lt. John Guild), Minna Gombell (Mimi Wynant Jorgenson), Porter Hall (Herbert MacCaulay), Henry Wadsworth (Tommy), William Henry (Gilbert Wynant), Harold Huber (Arthur Nunheim), Cesar Romero (Chris Jorgenson), Natalie Moorhead (Julia Wolf), Edward Brophy (Joe Morelli), Edward Ellis (Clyde Wynant), and Skippy (Asta) Directed by W. S. Van Dyke (#231 - San Francisco)

Review: 

Admittedly, a movie with a director known as "One Take Woody" sounds like a recipe for an interesting time. W. S. Van Dyke entered film in 1915 after a wide variety of time spent in business school and numerous part-time jobs and theater company tours. He went from assistant director with D. W. Griffith to director in the span of two years. When it came to sound, he was adept in his craft that made him a solid company man for Metro Goldwyn Mayer that served him well until his death in 1943. Of course, this is something worthwhile to mention because of the fact that he was one of the key parts behind what ended up becoming a film series. The Thin Man saw five further features: After the Thin Man (1936), Another Thin Man (1939), Shadow of the Thin Man (1941), The Thin Man Goes Home (1945), and Song of the Thin Man (1947). Van Dyke would direct three of the sequels while its main stars in Powell and Loy starred in each of the movies (one would notice that the "Thin Man" actually originally refers to a missing man played by Ellis, but people referred to Powell as "Thin Man" pretty early on). The movie, if you didn't know, is an adaptation of the 1934 novel of the same name by Dashiell Hammett. Hammett was a member of the Pinkerton National Detective Agency (both private law enforcers and aggressors against organized labor) before he was a writer, which led him to write numerous stories and novels with characters such as Sam Spade (as it turned out, this was the last novel written by Hammett, who dealt with tough health and other struggles before his death in 1961). Husband-and-wife duo Albert Hackett and Frances Goodrich wrote the feature, with instruction by Van Dyke to loosely adapt the novel while having concentration on providing witty banter for its lead actors, with Van Dyke often shooting the first take due to his belief that actors lose spontaneity with every passing take.

Go figure that a movie shot in less than three weeks ended up being a complete success for all involved.  The chemistry between Powell and Loy in banter is one that other filmmakers would be jealous enough to wish they could steal for themselves. Van Dyke knew he had magic with these folks, so he made a movie with resourceful pacing and spontaneity that makes for a capable mystery with chuckles to go around. Powell may have been considered a bit too old for the part (42) when compared to Loy (29), associated with exotic roles at the time. But they are so dazzling here, zinging off each other without serving as distraction for tired plotting. Powell knows exactly what to lend to the material in his timing and mannerisms, sophisticated in deduction without coming off as a Sherlock pastiche. He glides through 91 minutes as if the plot wasn't particularly important to having fun. It wasn't his first crack at playing a detective (he had played the character Philo Vance in four films from 1929 to 1933), but it was his first crack at having a film that wanted to show him with sophistication and charm. Powell and Loy would star in fourteen total movies together. Loy makes a quality partner in her own wiry charm that pushes things along with easygoing flair that matches wit (and alcohol) with Powell all the same in pure escapism. O'Sullivan and the others have to play a bit of catch-up in maintaining the plot to some sort of believable level (i.e. things that you've probably heard from a detective story but not completely cliche), in order to not be completely overshadowed by the duo, much less the dog and his paw movement. The dinner sequence where all are seated in order to gradually explain the whodunit is particularly effective in execution in closing the romp. This is the kind of movie where a guy can sock someone from behind before getting into a scuffle or have lines like "didn't come anywhere near my tabloids", you should have a real good time with this movie. Regardless how the follow-up films went, Dyke cultivated in record time a work of useful entertainment that saw one of the best pairings in film history (Powell and Loy) come together for one of the most interesting films of its era that practically walks on air with its sophistication that all would be proud to be part of.

Overall, I give it 10 out of 10 stars.

Movie Night: San Francisco.

Review #231: San Francisco.

Cast
Clark Gable (Blackie Norton), Jeanette MacDonald (Mary Blake), Spencer Tracy (Father Tim Mullin), Jack Holt (Jack Burley), Jessie Ralph (Mrs. Burley), Ted Healy (Mat), Shirley Ross (Trixie), Margaret Irving (Della Bailey), Harold Huber (Babe), and Edgar Kennedy (Sheriff) Directed by W. S. Van Dyke.

Review
To begin with, the film is based on the 1906 earthquake of San Francisco. In the long run, the film is a grand spectacle. The cast does a great job, especially at the end, with the despair and misery captured well given the circumstances of the situation. Lastly, the film recreates the earthquake in the last few minutes, and it looks beautiful even to this day. All in all, this film still has entertainment value, that while being a bit dated and slow at times, still holds up after over 70 years.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.