Very very predictable, including the post credit scene !!!

That was an excellent one.

If you don't like this, we can't be friends.

There's no way I can possibly love it entirely but I just think its ridiculously bad, but enjoyable at the same time.

Finally, the movie everyone (except me) hates: Song of the Thin Man (1947). For this one, Nat Perrin was assigned as both producer and screenwriter (in collaboration with Steve Fisher), whilst the directorial reins were handed to veteran Eddie Buzzell. The writers have taken care to restore Nick's liking (though not compulsion) for alcohol, but they made little change to the bland domesticity of Nora. Admittedly, she isn't quite the dumb housewife here, more the not-so-bright socialite. Her antics aren't funny though. In one particular boneheaded play, she almost gets herself killed! Loy's performance is adequate, but by no means sparkling. Maybe she was miffed that she was handed no witty lines to speak of. Maybe she was just tired. She'd already co-starred with Powell in thirteen films. Aside from Myrna Loy's inoffensively decorative Nora, the main item that irritates most fans is the jazz soundtrack. I thought it terrific. In fact it's my number one reason for welcoming this entry. Sultry Gloria Grahame sings up a storm with "You're Not So Easy To Forget", whilst Keenan Wynn (as an enthusiastic muso) and Don Taylor (as a psychotic reed man) give the most convincingly charismatic performances of their lives. As for Powell, the script not only serves him astringently well, but he still seems right at home tossing off one-liners in the same polished, throwaway, suavely witty form. No doubt he could have continued persuasively playing Nick Charles for the rest of his career. - Which he did with only minor variations.

Most of the reviewers here for this film appear to fall right in line with the common perception that this was one of, if not the weakest of the Thin Man films. But you know what? I liked it. I think a lot of it had to do with the hep-cat dialog coming from clarinetist Clinker Krause (Keenan Wynn), and if there was a better supporting cast in the series elsewhere, I think you'd be hard pressed to find it. Besides Wynn, you had Leon Ames, Gloria Grahame and Jayne Meadows, and the kicker would be Dean Stockwell, still a kid as young Nick Charles Jr.As usual, and despite my best efforts to follow the characters and situations, it's virtually impossible to solve the mystery presented, but getting there is much of the fun. I knew that necklace would wind up being instrumental in solving a murder as soon as Nick (William Powell) picked it up the first time, but gee, what's with Mrs. Talbin (Patricia Morrison)? She would have gotten her revenge when her husband confessed to killing Drake (Phillip Reed). I think you'd have to call her shooting of Mitchell Talbin (Ames) an unforced error. Oh well, too bad.So for a swan song, I think Nick and Nora Charles went out respectably. Powell by this time was showing his age a bit but Myrna Loy still looked great, though both conceding that perhaps their party hearty days may have been well behind them. Even Asta still had a few good scenes left in him, working the bedroom gimmick for maximum effect. Spanning a period of slightly over a dozen years, I think the Thin Man series came to a successful conclusion with this entertaining swan song.

I apologize for having the same obvious review title as several others, but I just couldn't help myself. This is only the least of the Thin Man movies if you have seen all of the others, especially the energetic precode that started it all. If this was the only Thin Man film you ever saw, you'd think it a superior mystery of its era with great leads.It is 1947, Nick is obviously in middle age, Nora is on the edge of it, and our dynamic detective duo of the 30's and the war years (they made one film during WWII) are in a brave new postwar world that they do not quite fit into, nor do they understand. Their son is about ten and is getting old enough to defy them, and two young friends, socialite Janet Thayar and her newly wed musician husband Phil Brant come to them for help. They need help because the night before, aboard a shipboard nightclub, band leader Tommy Drake has been murdered, and because Brant and Drake were seen arguing, of course the police jump to conclusions and assume Phil did it.Now as usual there are many suspects, some that are obvious and some that are not so obvious. However, to solve the crime, Nick has to investigate a world completely foreign to him - that of postwar jazz and the jive talking of the inhabitants of that world that sound like a foreign language to him. Nick hasn't lost a step in his investigation abilities, he's just having some trouble with the changing times.I don't know if this was meant to be the last of the Thin Man films, or it just happened to be, but it was a perfect ending. Nick and Nora are moving into middle age, it is time for a new generation to take over, symbolized by the newlywed Brants, and the Charles' are ready to wander off into the sunset and deal with their son's upcoming teen years. A perfect ending to a perfect series.My favorite scene has nothing to do with the crime. It is when the Charles' son has tried to duck out on piano practice and go play ball against their direct orders. Nora says a spanking is in order and hands this task over to Nick who hesitates as he thinks back on his son's birth, the good times, and then one memory of his son being a brat hits him and he is able to complete the task. In this one way Nick and Nora were very postwar - they winced at corporal punishment. This was probably the reason the baby boomers were entitled hippies in their teens and 20s, the most prudish bunch of old people since the pilgrims in middle age, and want the government to keep their hands off of their Medicare now that they are old. But I digress.At any rate, adieu Nick and Nora, no sleuthing team before or after you were ever your equal in charm, teamwork, insight or just plain fun.

1947 was the last gasp for several long-running MGM series': Maisie bit the dust with Undercover Maisie, grumpy Dr. Gillespie rode out into the sunset on his wheelchair in Dark Delusion and, most notably, Nick & Nora untangled their 6th and last case in Song of the Thin Man. Unfortunately for fans (myself included), this was a pretty limp exit plot-wise. Powell, rather jowly and now well past the age of 50 was still playing Nick like he was capable of jumping shank-wielding thugs and comically weaning himself off the lure of the bottle. Loy and Asta don't look to have aged one whit. The plot involved the gambling boat murder of a womanizing band leader, Tommy Drake, who may--or may not--- have been in debt to the tune of 12G's and had a long list of enemies, including a drunken clarinet player, the gambling boat owner (and his wife), a hood, and any number of the boys in his band. Keenan Wynne's on hand as a hep-talking member of the reed section, whose got an enormous amount of screen time (L.B. Mayer had kept his promise to give him better roles in exchange for divorcing his wife so Van Johnson could have her). Eddie Buzzell directed this without noir or the late W.S. Van Dyke's cleverness. Nick & Nora still co-habitate in twin beds, live in a now zillion dollar Manhattan flat (noticably lacking a new-fangled TV per MGM edict) and there's an occasional glimpse of a fabulous car amongst some wildly cheap looking backdrops--- the irritating Jayne Meadows tools around town suspiciously in a V-12 Lincoln Continental convertible while Nick & Nora pile in and out of postwar suicide door DeSoto cabs. Without giving up a spoiler, the lesson here is never try to keep a dame in expensive jewelry.