A newspaper man, his ignored fiancée, and his former employee, a down on his luck reporter, hatch an elaborate scheme to turn a false news story into the truth in order to prevent a high-society woman from suing for libel.
After a four year absence, one time detective Nick Charles returns to New York with his new wife Nora and their dog, Asta. Nick re-connects with many of his old cronies, several of whom are eccentric characters, to say the least. He's also approached by Dorothy Wynant whose inventor father Clyde Wynant is suspected of murdering her father's mistress (his former secretary ).. Her father had left on a planned trip some months before and she has had no contact with him. Nick isn't all that keen on resuming his former profession but egged-on by wife Nora, who thinks this all very exciting, he agrees to help out. He solves the case, announcing the identity of the killer at a dinner party for all of the suspects. Written by
MGM was advised that some dialogue such as William Powell's line "He didn't come anywhere near my Tabloids," and Myrna Loy's line "What's that man doing in my drawers?" were "censorable," the picture was approved for exhibition in 1934 and was granted a PCA certificate in August 1935. After the film's release, some territories did censor some lines of dialogue, and at least one theatre owner from the South wrote to the PCA to complain of excessive drinking in the picture which his patrons found offensive. See more »
Early in the film, after Nora gets dragged by Asta to find Nick, we see Nick explaining to the bar manager that Asta is a well trained dog. Initially, Nick has Asta's leash in his right hand and points at Asta with his left, but when they focus on Asta, Nick is pointing with his right hand and obviously holding Asta's leash in his left. See more »
There's a story, perhaps apocryphal, that when Ian Fleming was first introduced to the actor who would bring his 007 to life in "Dr. No," his immediate reaction was a loud and emphatic, "Oh, NO! Anybody but HIM!" Luckily, of course, no one paid him any attention, and a largely unknown actor and former bodybuilder named Sean Connery was off and running toward stardom. Likely enough, had anyone thought to run the idea of William Powell as Nick Charles past Dashiell Hammett -- always assuming, somewhat blithely, that the author would have been sober at the moment -- his reaction would have been identical to Fleming's years later. Powell, insouciantly dapper and suave, almost as slender as the silly mustache he affected, was virtually the complete antithesis of Hammett's concept of Charles, the hard-drinking, two-fisted former New York detective who married an heiress much younger than he and yet somehow managed to remain uncorrupted by his good fortune. Yet Powell -- as would Humphrey Bogart several years later, when similarly physically miscast as Sam Spade in the third film version of "The Maltese Falcon" -- went on to make the character of Nick Charles so totally his own that even today, six films and almost sixty years later, it is well-nigh impossible to envision anyone else in the role. Powell was always at his best when playing opposite a strong leading lady -- i.e., Rosalind Russell, Carole Lombard, Irene Dunne -- yet he was never better than when paired with Myrna Loy as Nora in the six "Thin Man" films. Every bit his equal at the backchat and martini-tossing, Loy proved the perfect collaborator in making the Charleses lovely people to visit (but you wouldn't want their livers) time and time and time again. Particularly in this, the adaptation of Hammett's novel, which created the audience demand for the ensuing series. And which also shows that, even if you do consult the writer, it's not necessarily wise to give him/her final approval over casting.
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