Movies just aren't made like this anymore. Honestly, there is something deeply comforting about watching William Powell and Myrna Loy trade barbs while nursing martinis, even when the world around them is literally falling apart. By the time 1947 rolled around, the Thin Man franchise was, by Hollywood standards, ancient history. It had been thirteen years since the original surprise hit. Most series lose their steam by the second sequel, but Song of the Thin Man managed to do something pretty gutsy for a sixth entry: it changed the tempo.
It’s the jazz one. That’s how people usually remember it.
You’ve got Nick and Nora Charles stepping out of their high-society comfort zone and into the smoky, frantic world of late-forties bebop. It’s a culture clash that shouldn't work, but it does because the chemistry between the leads is indestructible. If you've ever felt like a series went on one season too long, you might expect this flick to be a tired retread. It isn't. It’s a sharp, neon-lit swan song that captures a very specific moment in American music history while keeping the cocktail-sipping wit intact.
The Plot That Hits a Sour Note
The story kicks off on a gambling ship called the S.S. Fortune. Sounds classy, right? Wrong. It’s a den of tension where a bandleader named Tommy Drake gets himself rubbed out. Now, Nick Charles is technically retired from the sleuthing game—as he always claims to be—but when you’re Nick Charles, trouble finds you at the bottom of a glass.
The mystery itself is actually more complex than some of the earlier sequels. You’ve got a missing sheet of music that acts as a MacGuffin, a bunch of disgruntled musicians, and a shadowy underworld that Nora seems surprisingly excited to explore. One of the best things about Song of the Thin Man is how it handles the "Thin Man" moniker. For those who aren't obsessive Turner Classic Movies fans, "The Thin Man" was actually the victim in the first book/movie, not Nick himself. By this sixth film, the title was just a brand, but the movie leans into that legacy with a sense of self-aware fun.
Dean Stockwell shows up as Nick Jr., and he's actually a decent child actor, which is a rarity for this era. He isn't just there to be cute; he provides a weirdly grounded contrast to his parents' chaotic lifestyle. Seeing Nick Charles try to explain "the facts of life" through the lens of a detective's logic is comedy gold.
A Who’s Who of the Jazz Age
What really makes this film stand out from the previous five is the supporting cast. You get a very young Keenan Wynn playing Clarence "Clinker" Cassidy. He’s the one who has to translate the "jive talk" for Nick and Nora. It’s hilarious because Nick is a man of the world, but the 1940s jazz scene was a whole different planet.
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- Keenan Wynn brings a frantic, sweaty energy that offsets William Powell’s cool.
- Gloria Grahame appears as a lounge singer, and she is absolutely electric. She had that "it" factor before the term was even overused.
- Don Taylor and Patricia Morison fill out the suspect list, making the "whodunit" aspect actually feel like a challenge for the audience.
Why the Jazz Backdrop Matters
In 1947, jazz was shifting. It wasn't just big band swing anymore. It was becoming more experimental, more intellectual, and—to the older generation—more dangerous. Song of the Thin Man captures this transition. The movie uses real jazz slang of the era, some of which feels dated now, but at the time, it was an attempt at authenticity.
The scenes in the "Net," the underground jazz club, are visually striking. Director Edward Buzzell, who took over the reins for this final installment, used shadows and tight framing to make the sets feel intimate and slightly claustrophobic. It’s a stark contrast to the sprawling mansions and hotel suites we usually see the Charles family inhabiting.
Nick and Nora are "old school." They represent the pre-war elegance of the 1930s. Seeing them navigate a post-war world that is faster, louder, and more cynical is essentially the subtext of the whole movie. Nora, ever the adventurer, dives headfirst into the lingo. Nick remains skeptical but capable. It’s a beautiful dynamic that prevents the movie from feeling like a museum piece.
The Mystery of the Missing Chemistry?
Some critics at the time felt the spark was fading. I disagree.
William Powell was 55 when this came out. Myrna Loy was 42. They weren't the young socialites anymore; they were the "cool parents" of cinema. Their banter in Song of the Thin Man feels more settled, more comfortable. It’s like a long-running jazz duo where they know exactly when the other is going to take a solo.
There’s a specific scene where Nora tries to act "hep" to the music, and Nick just watches her with this mixture of adoration and bewilderment. That’s the heart of these movies. The mystery is just a clothesline to hang their relationship on. If the mystery is weak, the movie fails. Fortunately, the script by Steve Fisher and Nat Perrin keeps the red herrings coming fast enough to keep you guessing until the final reveal on the boat.
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Fact-Checking the Production
It wasn't all martinis and laughter behind the scenes. By 1947, MGM was looking to cut costs. The "Thin Man" series was expensive because Powell and Loy were huge stars.
Interestingly, this was the only film in the series not written by the husband-and-wife team of Albert Hackett and Frances Goodrich. You can tell. The dialogue is a bit punchier, a bit more "noir-adjacent." It lacks some of the whimsical screwball energy of the 1934 original, replacing it with a grittier, late-forties sheen.
Also, Asta! We can't talk about this movie without the dog. By this point, the original Asta (a Wire Fox Terrier named Skippy) had long since retired. The Asta in this film was one of his descendants. Even the dog was a legacy act by 1947. He still gets some of the best gags, specifically involving a scene with a very confused jazz musician.
The Legacy of the Final Film
Song of the Thin Man was the end of the line. There were no more sequels. Powell was moving on to projects like Life with Father and eventually Mister Roberts. Loy was becoming increasingly involved in political activism and UNESCO.
But as a finale, it works. It doesn't try to be a grand epic. It doesn't try to "reinvent the wheel." It just gives the fans one last night out with their favorite couple. It’s a reminder that even when the world changes—from the Depression to WWII to the Cold War—some things, like a well-timed joke and a stiff drink, are timeless.
How to Watch It Today
If you’re looking to dive into Song of the Thin Man, don't just watch it as a standalone. It hits differently if you’ve seen at least the first and second movies (After the Thin Man). You need to see the evolution of Nick and Nora to appreciate where they end up.
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Most people stream it through various classic cinema hubs, but the Blu-ray restoration is actually worth the investment. The contrast in the night scenes is much sharper, and you can actually hear the nuances in the jazz score, which was composed by David Snell.
Actionable Insights for Classic Film Fans
If you want to truly appreciate the "jazz" elements of this film, do a little homework on the era.
- Listen to early Dizzy Gillespie or Charlie Parker. This is the sound the movie is trying to mimic. Understanding how radical this music felt in 1947 makes Nick and Nora's reaction to it much funnier.
- Look at the fashion. Notice how Nora’s wardrobe has shifted from the flowing gowns of the thirties to the structured "New Look" of the late forties. It’s a masterclass in costume design by Irene.
- Watch the background. The "Net" club scenes feature real musicians and dancers who were staples of the Los Angeles scene. It’s a time capsule of a lost world.
- Pay attention to the cocktails. Nick isn't just drinking "gin." There’s an art to the way he interacts with the bartenders. It’s a lost language of social grace.
The film is a piece of history. It’s the closing chapter of one of the greatest partnerships in Hollywood history. While it might not have the "pre-code" bite of the first film, it has a soulful, rhythmic quality that makes it a perfect late-night watch.
Stop looking for a "perfect" movie and start looking for a "vibe." Song of the Thin Man is all vibe. It’s the cinematic equivalent of a late-night jam session where everyone knows the tune, but they’re still finding new ways to play the notes. If you haven't seen it in a while, or if you skipped it because "sequel six" sounded like a chore, give it another spin. You’ll find that Nick and Nora still have plenty of rhythm left in them.
To get the most out of your viewing, try to find a copy that hasn't been overly compressed for streaming; the black-and-white cinematography relies heavily on deep blacks that often get "muddy" on low-bitrate platforms. Check the Turner Classic Movies schedule or look for the Warner Archive collection. Once you’ve finished the film, look up Gloria Grahame’s later work in The Big Heat to see how this movie helped launch one of the most interesting "femme fatale" careers in the business.