It's the kind of story Hammett might have told to amuse his friends, or that Nick and Nora Charles might have found the grim humor in while hosting a mad, floating Christmas Eve party (where cops, drunken sad sacks, and people they don't even know move in and out and all around their New York hotel room). Since we're talking here of corpses, observation and movie style, let's play detective and think of a question one might ask of someone who's just watched "The Thin Man" in its entirety: whodunnit?
How many people would get that answer right, even so soon after the movie ended? And isn't it the wrong question to ask?
¿Cuántas personas podrían tener la respuesta correcta, aún apenas terminada la película? Y ¿no es acaso todo menos una pregunta correcta para formular?
¿Cuántas personas conseguirían la respuesta correcta, aún más tan poco tiempo después de que terminara la película? ¿Y no es la pregunta que no se necesita preguntar?
As we ponder the riddles of Christmas, the dead body framed in Woody Van Dyke's viewfinder suggests that the key to solving the most important and confusing riddles lies in being a bit impudent and improper in the face of logic and decorum. That's why "The Thin Man" Christmas scene is on our list: it takes none of the holiday's sacraments seriously, even after its leads have almost been killed.