Gentleman Jim

Errol Flynn is at his career best as boxer James J. corbett ("Gentleman Jim") the bank-clerk-turned World Champion who elevated boxing from bare-knuckled brawling to the sport of skill it is today. Year: 1942 Director: Raoul Walsh Starring: Errol Flynn, Alexis Smith, Jack Carson, Alan Hale,

Gentleman Jim is such a bountifully superlative movie that its neglect among Warner Bros. classics has been downright mystifying. It's a boisterously exhilarating and likable picture from a director who made a habit of such things, Raoul Walsh. The performances of Errol Flynn, as pugilist dandy James J. Corbett, and Ward Bond, as heavyweight champion John L. Sullivan, just might be personal bests. And the 1890s period atmosphere, the interpersonal dynamics when the working-class Corbett clan intersects with the swells of San Francisco society, and the sheer, exuberant drive of the storytelling exemplify the richness of studio filmmaking in Hollywood's golden age. As glorious entertainment and vibrant cinema, this is a masterpiece.

It's pure Raoul Walsh from the outset--a wordless sequence as, through the knowing eyes of a street cop, we watch the strata of Gay-'90s society coalesce one summer evening, everyone out to take in an illegal boxing match in the park. (Characteristic Walsh touch: Unmistakable among the traffic is an open carriage bearing a madam and her ladies-of-the-evening.) Upwardly aspiring bank teller Corbett gets a career boost by fast-talking a prominent judge out of the slammer after the cops have swept them up in a raid. From then on, seemingly nothing can stop the brash "Gentleman Jim" as he muscles his way into the exclusive Olympic Club and, after a casual display of fisticuffs, breaks into the boxing game himself. Along the way he attracts the irreverent attention of a well-born young lady (Alexis Smith in a characterization of uncommon spirit and wit) who finds him preposterously egotistical... but not without a certain animal magnetism.

This is a joyously earthy movie--in critic Peter Hogue's phrase, "a vision, imaginary or otherwise, of a time when personal wholeness and physical joy were much more accessible and more fully communal." Flynn cheerfully accepts being the butt of much of the humor; Jack Carson and frequent Flynn sidekick Alan Hale are splendid as Corbett's best pal and father, respectively; and the montages depicting his rise as a contender--by Don Siegel and James Leicester--are every bit as dynamic as their contributions to their next assignment, Casablanca. --Richard T. Jameson