Shall we watch them all?

We shall. I've never seen them. I know, I know, but like so many things I put them off because they were classics, and thus required sitting down and paying attention. Besides, people had parties based around them, and that always puts me off. Cult things. I never wanted to watch Twin Peaks in a room full of people who were waiting for the next catch phrase.

My objective here is not to review the movies; that's not what this feature is about. I'm going to see how they slid downhill in the course of five movies. They had to. They couldn't be as good as the first. Or as good as everyone thought it was.

Note: I can't think of another movie that had its opening credits showing a picture of the author. That's Hammett up there on the shelf. He really is The Thin Man for branding and franchise purposes. Obviously the "Thin Man" does not run through five movies. Obviously it's not - well, our hero.

The screen's most urbane alcoholic. When we meet him he's giving lessons on cocktail shaking. When his wife shows up and asks how many martinis he's had, he says six; her response is to ask the waiter to deliver an equal number for her. It's "Days of Wine and Roses," fun-style! Because no one's really sloshed. No one's really put on the floor, or slurry bleary dopey drunk. At the most they are charmingly tipsy, a point that makes their inner charms emerge with a fresh dash of lemony zest. Other people who are drinking just as much are shown as slobs and out-and-out drunks; not our heroes, who slam it away all day because they are fully-functioning alcoholics who require a hell of a lot of booze to get hammered.

I guess. Or not. They're Movie Drinkers, who are always delightful. Here's the briefest of moments that summed up their relationship for me: Nora has caught Nick consoling a young woman.

She's just adorable, she is. Also sensible and level-headed but with a taste for danger. She wrapped a lot of 30s archtypes into the performance, and created a delightful character.

The movie has mugs . . . .

Dowagers in 30s apartments, which were always monochrome places full of white furniture and accessories. This was always a clue that these people were decadent, and not to be trusted.

Her hair matched the drapes, in the literal sense.

So there's a murder, and Nick has to solve it, with the help of his wife, liquor-fueled inspiration, natural wit, and the first of many Asta dogs. Not a lot of inadvertent documentary, but you know how I love dummy papers:

Look at that layout style: four stories nestled under the big wood. Ten students leap to safety as fire sweeps frat house! Wonder if that happened. Careless smoking, no dout.

Bigger wood, with a curious spelling:

"Clews" is an English variant. But the root is the same: a ball of thread. The mythological orgin: the ball of thread used by theseus to find his way out of the labyrinth.

Ah hah: makes sense, doesn't it? Never thought of the word's origin until now.

In related news: Arabic Talker in Dialog in Arabic. No kidding.

Typical of the movie: this. It's full of amusing bits throughout.

It's an ordinary mystery with charming, highly-functioning alcoholics. How will it play out over 12 years? We'll find out in the next few weeks.