Manflesh of the Month: William Powell

William the Wise

“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.”

“Coffee. Two lumps of sugar and dash of bitters.”

Turner Classic Movies has long aired the entirety of the Thin Man films every New Year’s Eve or Day. Thusly was I introduced to the hotness that is William Powell and Myrna Loy as Nick and Nora Charles—the greatest onscreen married couple who ever lived. They are the Patron Saints of Cocktails, dutifully quaffing martini after martini out of their eponymous glassware, at a rate that would make Dean Martin blush. I mean, sure, cocktail glasses had a smaller volume in the 30s, but eight Sidecars (for ten whole dollars!) still qualifies as heavy lifting (see Star of Midnight (1935) in which William plays opposite the eternally awesome Ginger Rogers).

In his heyday, William was paired with every lovely starlet you can imagine, always bringing his signature urbane sense of humor and effortless charm. Whether playing a detective or a doctor, astronomer or a confidence man, a butler or a hobo, he’s always intriguing. Nominated three times by the Academy for Best Actor in The Thin Man (1934), My Man Godfrey (1936), and Life With Father (1947), William proved more than merely a box office draw. All three of these varied roles showcases his masterful and natural delivery. He’s irrevocably watchable, commanding an easy photogenie that makes it impossible to ignore him as long as he’s onscreen. It’s those big bedroom eyes and the ineffably unpretentious cerebral aura that draws me in every time. And he wears those double-breasted suits and fedoras as well as he does his shiny dressing gowns.

His onscreen personas never belie the personal tragedies that threatened his love and his life. After an amicable divorce from Carole Lombard, he was engaged to blond bombshell Jean Harlow, who very suddenly died of kidney failure at 26, and he was diagnosed with cancer so hard upon that he didn’t act for a year despite an experimental treatment that put him into full remission. He accepted fewer roles in the 40s and by 1955, decided to retire. 

All told, he appeared in nearly 100 pictures, 14 of which are with my idol Myrna. They complemented each other’s comic timing and suave mystique perfectly, flirting and drinking each other under and over the table.  Thank the heavens that the first Thin Man was pre-code-ish, and still contained enough innuendo and “scandalous” material to give them an edge that’s missing from later films. As much as I love Fred & Ginger movies, they’re all as squeaky clean as a bathtub full of soap bubbles. Nick and Nora know that the best bubbles come from copious amounts of champagne.

One of William’s final films was the lush and stylish comedy How to Marry a Millionaire (1953), in which Lauren Bacall tries to land William, the rich, polite, and classy widower while her other two friends (Marilyn Monroe and Betty Grable) also dig for gold with mixed results. He’s every bit as loveable as ever, and I personally would have married him in a minute, burgeoning bank account or no. 

Dear old William shuffled off this mortal coil at 91, when I was but a year old. So at least I got to share a tiny slice of time on this earth with my future Classic Movie boyfriend. Still, he lives on in this fangirl’s heart, ideally shaking me a Manhattan or mixing something up with gin so we can solve a mystery or just chat at a speakeasy all night. *wink wink*

Don’t mind if I do