瘦子 The Thin Man(1934)
又名: 瘦人 / 要命的瘦子
导演: W.S.范戴克
主演: 威廉·鲍威尔 玛娜·洛伊 莫琳·奥沙利文 纳特·彭德尔顿 Minna Gombell 波特·霍尔 亨利·沃兹沃思 威廉·亨利 Harold Huber 恺撒·罗摩洛 娜塔莉·穆尔黑德 爱德华·布罗菲 Edward Ellis Cyril Thornton Will Aubrey William Augustin 波莉·贝利 Arthur Belasco 布鲁克斯·贝内迪克特 Tui Bow Raymond Brown Ruth Channing 杰克·奇塔姆 Clay Clement Nick Copeland 帕特·弗莱厄蒂 达格拉斯·福雷 Christian J. Frank Kenneth Gibson 迪克·戈登 克莱顿·黑尔 Sherry Hall Edward Hearn 罗伯特·霍曼斯 Thomas E. Jackson Sydney Jarvis Tiny Jones 肯纳G.肯普 沃尔特·朗 弗雷德·马拉泰斯塔 汉斯-乔基姆·默比斯 威廉·H·奥布莱恩 弗兰克·奥康纳 Henry Otho Garry Owen 李·费尔普斯 Alexander Pollard Albert Pollet Bob Reeves 伯特·罗奇 罗尔夫·塞丹 格特鲁德·肖特 Lee Shumway Pietro Sosso Ben Taggart Phil Tead 乔治·坦普尔顿 哈利·坦布鲁克 Huey White 李奥·怀特 查尔斯·威廉姆斯
制片国家/地区: 美国
上映日期: 1934-05-25(美国)
片长: 91 分钟 IMDb: tt0025878 豆瓣评分：7.6 下载地址：迅雷下载
简介：
- Nick和Nora 这对搞笑侦探夫妻档总是连手出击调查案件。这回他们要着手的是一位发明家失踪的案子，要找出为何会失踪，且失踪到哪里去了……？
演员：
影评：
达希尔·哈米特的小说去年重版，我买了Kindle的合集，包括了《马耳他之鹰》《玻璃钥匙》《瘦子》《大陆侦探社》《血色收获》《丹恩家的诅咒》《暗夜女子》《螺丝起子》八部，其中《暗夜女子》中还包括了萨姆•斯佩德系列的三个短篇。
哈米特在侦探小说界多有名？他是美国硬汉派小说的创始者，好莱坞黑色电影的主要创始人，他早年做过侦探，给了他日后创作的很多素材，30年代他进入好莱坞编剧圈，先是把自己的作品《马耳他之鹰》《瘦子》改编成电影，大获成功，后来就开始专门写剧本，还拿到了奥斯卡提名。
哈米特出生在1894年，他参加过一战和二战，在二战前后是美国著名的左派作家、反法西斯主义者，这使得他在50年代受到麦卡锡主义的迫害，他被迫离开了好莱坞，结束了自己的创作生涯。
《瘦子》是他在1934年出版的小说，几乎算得上是他最后的长篇小说，之后他就开始了编剧生涯。小说出版后不久，他就把小说卖给了米高梅公司，并由两位出色的编剧改成了电影剧本，米高梅老板拍板由威廉·鲍威尔和茂娜·洛挨来出演书中搞笑又聪明的侦探夫妇尼克和诺拉，电影拍得节奏飞快，在喜剧和悬疑两方面都获得了巨大的成功。
之后，哈米特又为这对侦探夫妇写了五部续集电影1936年的《瘦子之后》（迷雾重重）1939年《另一个瘦子》（疑云重重）1941年《瘦子的影子》1945年《瘦子回家》（疑云风波）1947年《瘦子之歌》。12年拍完六部曲，当然和很多续集电影一样算得上一部不如一部，但也最终结了尾，此时的好莱坞黑色电影的辉煌已经过去，哈米特的创作也开始慢慢进入了下坡。
哈米特在一战时认识了他后来的妻子，他们生育了两个孩子，但是这段婚姻在哈米特来到好莱坞后就名存实亡，1937年，他们正式办理了离婚手续。在好莱坞，哈米特先后与两位女编剧尼尔·马丁和莉莉·赫尔曼相恋，莉莉·赫尔曼是他人生中最后的伴侣，他们在一起生活了30年。哈米特在一战时感染了西班牙流感，虽然治愈却患了伴随终生的结核病，40年代，他又开始酗酒，被麦卡锡主义迫害后的哈米特健康急剧直下，1961年，他因肺癌去世，年仅66岁。
- It is intresting to compare this with another William Powell vehicle, "My Man Godfrey", which I see as too slight:
What is the difference? One word: GUSTO.
The screenplay is much better written. The plot is implausible and trivial, but who cares, since it is the mere excuse to put us in front of a banquet of witticism, naughty banters, and best of all, non sequiturs---incidentally, this movies has the highest frequency of non sequiturs in my recent memory. Such as,
- Gil: Haven't you heard of the Sullivan Act?
- Nora Charles: That's okay, we're married.
- Nora Charles: You asleep?
- Nick Charles: Yes!
- Nora Charles: Good... I want to talk to you.
- Reporter: Say listen, is he working on a case?
- Nora Charles: Yes, he is.
- Reporter: What case?
- Nora Charles: A case of scotch. Pitch in and help him.
- Nora Charles: Waiter, will you serve the nuts? I mean, will you serve the guests the nuts?
While I was typing these lines, I realize they are not so funny on paper. Which leads me to the other strong point of the film: loose-limbed, gracefully funny performance by William Powell, and adequate support from Myrna Loy. It is Powell's delivery of these lines, casual yet not without relish, that makes the film work. For example, if spoken by lesser actors, this thesis on cocktail making would have sounded over-precious (at least to this reviewer):
- Nick Charles: The important thing is the rhythm. Always have rhythm in your shaking. Now a Manhattan you always shake to fox-trot time, a Bronx to two-step time, a dry martini you always shake to waltz time.
But Powell puts it together with such tipsy grace and lightness of touch that we accept it with a hearty laugh. It is rare to see an actor enjoying himself so much on screen, and one cannot help finding his mood infectious. In fact, his sparkling chemistry with Myrna Loy also makes us like her, tremendously, even though one may not recognize her pouting performance as a great one. Unfortunately, Carole Lombard doesn't have this benefit in "Godfrey".
Finally, I think the film's success as a light comedy has to do with the fact that it was shot only in about two weeks! The fast pace of its making prevents it from taking itself seriously and loading with "messages" or humoring the vanity of film stars, or, most important of all, from getting selfconscious, weighted down with deliberations. That's why "Thin Man" sounds so refreshing, so spontaneous, just where "My Man Godfrey" flops. 
Ex-sleuth Nick Charles (Powell) doesn’t really want to go back to his old profession and why would he? He and wife Nora (Loy) live in the lap of luxury with nil to worry about. But Dorothy Wynant (O’Sullivan) is an old acquaintance of him and on the Christmas eve she has a foreboding that her father Clyde (Ellis) seems to renege on his promise of returning before Christmas to attend her upcoming wedding with Tommy (Wadsworth), as Clyde has gone on a secret business trip months earlier and no one has heard from him since, our reluctant gumshoe only manages to squeeze an interest in the case because Nora eggs him on solving the puzzle simply because it might keep boredom at bay, also for a husband to prove his worth to his wife is quite something can ginger up their marital bliss. Subsequently, Clyde’s secretary-cum-mistress Julia Wolf (Moorhead) is rubbed out in cold blood, discovered by Dorothy’s mother and Clyde’s ex-wife Mimi Jorgenson (Gombell, with perfect fussy cadence and ditziness) who alights on an implicating item, following by an in-the-know blackmailer croaked for his undue greed, then a skeleton is disinterred in Clyde’s work place which turns out to be deceased for months, whose identity can be easily inferred by detective story-savvy viewers, however, it is the climatic dinner pageantry during which Nick corrals all the suspects in one room before spilling the beans that deliciously spurs the suspense to the finishing line with a delightful veneer of sophistication and delectation. First of six in massive popular The Thin Man series, and adapted from mystery writer Dashiell Hammett's beloved source novel, W.S. Van Dyke’s series-generator eloquently and unashamedly melds a screwball-y jollification with the morbid procedural of a whodunit, transfused with a fluid agglomeration of nonchalant merry-making, shadowy ominousness, connubial bickering and canoodling in spite of their tonal discrepancy, the outcome is a unique genre-bending humdinger underlined by the optimal duo, William Powell and Myrna Loy’s dexterously relaxed, bibulously rollicking interplay, as well as the gimmicky showstopper, their button-cute fox terrier named Asta, that's the ace in the hole. referential entries: Gregory La Cava’s MY MAN GODFREY (1936, 7.4/10); John Huston’s The Maltese Falcon (1941, 8.4/10)
Ex-sleuth Nick Charles (Powell) doesn’t really want to go back to his old profession and why would he? He and wife Nora (Loy) live in the lap of luxury with nil to worry about. But Dorothy Wynant (O’Sullivan) is an old acquaintance of him and on the Christmas eve she has a foreboding that her father Clyde (Ellis) seems to renege on his promise of returning before Christmas to attend her upcoming wedding with Tommy (Wadsworth), as Clyde has gone on a secret business trip months earlier and no one has heard from him since, our reluctant gumshoe only manages to squeeze an interest in the case because Nora eggs him on solving the puzzle simply because it might keep boredom at bay, also for a husband to prove his worth to his wife is quite something can ginger up their marital bliss. Subsequently, Clyde’s secretary-cum-mistress Julia Wolf (Moorhead) is rubbed out in cold blood, discovered by Dorothy’s mother and Clyde’s ex-wife Mimi Jorgenson (Gombell, with perfect fussy cadence and ditziness) who alights on an implicating item, following by an in-the-know blackmailer croaked for his undue greed, then a skeleton is disinterred in Clyde’s work place which turns out to be deceased for months, whose identity can be easily inferred by detective story-savvy viewers, however, it is the climatic dinner pageantry during which Nick corrals all the suspects in one room before spilling the beans that deliciously spurs the suspense to the finishing line with a delightful veneer of sophistication and delectation. First of six in massive popular The Thin Man series, and adapted from mystery writer Dashiell Hammett's beloved source novel, W.S. Van Dyke’s series-generator eloquently and unashamedly melds a screwball-y jollification with the morbid procedural of a whodunit, transfused with a fluid agglomeration of nonchalant merry-making, shadowy ominousness, connubial bickering and canoodling in spite of their tonal discrepancy, the outcome is a unique genre-bending humdinger underlined by the optimal duo, William Powell and Myrna Loy’s dexterously relaxed, bibulously rollicking interplay, as well as the gimmicky showstopper, their button-cute fox terrier named Asta, that's the ace in the hole. referential entries: Gregory La Cava’s MY MAN GODFREY (1936, 7.4/10); John Huston’s The Maltese Falcon (1941, 8.4/10)