Based on James J. Corbett's 1894 autobiography "The Roar of the Crowd," the 1942 Warner Bros. film "Gentleman Jim" gives the prizefighter's story a Hollywood gloss but remains top entertainment nevertheless. In it, Errol Flynn stars in what he later called his favorite film role (over "The Adventures of Robin Hood," "Captain Blood," "The Sea Hawk" and "Objective, Burma"? Incredible!), giving a remarkably likable, high-energy and physical performance; practically an Oscar-worthy one. In his own 1959 autobiography "My Wicked, Wicked Ways," Flynn reveals that he was knocked unconscious three times in one day (by pro boxer Jack Loper) and suffered a mild coronary while making the film, but his energy on screen never flags; this is a highly impressive demonstration of Flynn's skills as both an actor and a physical performer.
In the film, we first meet Corbett in 1887, when he was a 21-year-old, brash, conceited, boastful bank teller in San Francisco, toiling away with his buddy Walter (the always amusing Jack Carson). His life changes very quickly, however, when he is admitted as a protégé in the posh Olympic Club, much to the disdain of elegant society girl Vicky Ware (the beautiful Alexis Smith, who had already appeared opposite Flynn in 1941's "Dive Bomber" and would go on to star with him in 1945's "San Antonio"). After knocking out the ex-British heavyweight champion at the club's gym, Corbett, to the delight of his constantly brawling Irish family, begins to climb the rungs of the nascent boxing sport, his fancy footwork and 73-inch reach being two huge assets, while the newly incorporated Marquess of Queensberry rules helped transform what was up until then a rough-and-tumble melee into the more refined sport that we know today. Corbett's career, of course, culminates with his victory over the "Boston Strong Boy" John L. Sullivan in New Orleans, on September 7, 1892. And as depicted on film, with Ward Bond playing John L., what a tremendous bout this 21-round fight is!
Even those who don't like the sport of boxing, I feel, should enjoy "Gentleman Jim." The four fights depicted on screen (the one with the Brit champ; a hungover fight in Salt Lake City; a dockside matchup against Tony Choynski, preceding a police raid and riot; and the big bout in New Orleans) are well done, exciting, tense and marvelously shot by director Raoul Walsh, a man who excelled at both fast-moving action scenes AND period re-creations, both of which talents are utilized here. (This was Flynn's third film out of an eventual seven with the director.) Though hard hitting, the fights are not ugly to watch, unlike, say, those in the 1956 Humphrey Bogart film "The Harder They Fall" and Martin Scorsese's "Raging Bull." Rather, the fights in "Gentleman Jim" stress Corbett's remarkable agility and footwork ("That bloke jumps around like a jackrabbit," declares the Brit fighter; "He should've been a dancer," says an Irish priest later on), and Flynn, doing all his own stunts, bobs and weaves and skips and moves like the real deal. Indeed, during the big fight, he makes Sullivan look like a lumbering stumblebum, which, for the first four rounds at least, was how things supposedly really went down. Though the two men had just about the same reach, and though Sullivan outweighed Corbett by a good 34 pounds, Corbett's new "scientific approach" to boxing, so well shown in the film, ultimately won the day. But wait...an even better scene follows, in which Sullivan comes to Corbett's victory party, and the two men touchingly reveal to one another their mutual respect and admiration. It is a wonderful scene, and Bond and Flynn are both superb in it. I would be remiss if I didn't mention the fine work turned in by the film's uniformly fine cast (including Alan Hale as Corbett's dad and William Frawley as his bellicose manager) and note what a great-looking picture this is, with impressive sets (especially those in the ritzy Olympic Club) and a screen that is filled (as was Walsh's wont) with constant motion. A huge triumph for everyone concerned, the picture really is (you'll pardon the expression) a knockout!
