Gentleman Jim Page #7

Synopsis: Because boxing is a considered an illegal and disreputable enterprise in 1880's San Francisco, wealthy and influential members of the prestigious Olympic Club vow to make the sport a "gentlemanly" one. They sponsor a brash, extroverted young bank clerk named Jim Corbett, who quickly becomes an accomplished fighter under the new Marquis of Queensbury Rules. Despite his success, the young Irish-American's social pretensions and boastful manner soon estrange him from his benefactors, who plot to give their conceited former protégé a well-deserved comeuppance. Despite this, his dazzlingly innovative footwork helps him to beat a succession of bigger and stronger men, and he finally finds himself fighting for the world's championship against his childhood idol, John L. Sullivan.
Director(s): Raoul Walsh
Production: Warner Bros.
 
IMDB:
7.7
Rotten Tomatoes:
100%
APPROVED
Year:
1942
104 min
166 Views


You sit right down in that chair.

A fight is no place for a lady.

But, Ma, I missed the last one.

The Corbetts are at it again!

- Good morning, good morning.

- Good morning.

Any mail for me?

- What's the name, please?

- Corbett. James J. Corbett.

- I'm a new member.

- No, sir. No, sir.

No? Nothing?

Say, you don't happen

to have a cigar, do you?

- Yes, I have.

- Oh, thanks very much.

Listen, I'm gonna tip you off to something.

What's that?

- You see that statue over there?

- Yeah.

Well, that doesn't belong down here.

Why don't you have it moved up in the gym?

- Very well, we'll have it moved.

- Good.

There's nothing like a good smoke.

- How many cigars do you smoke a day?

- Oh, any given number.

- See you later.

- Paging Mr. Crocker...

Hey, kid. Listen, I'm a new member.

James J. Corbett. I'll be in the card room.

- Have me paged there, will you?

- All right, sir.

Paging Mr. Corbett. Paging Mr. Corbett.

Paging Mr. Corbett.

What did I tell you? There he

goes, having himself paged again.

Well, boys, we might as well face it.

Something's got to be done about

Corbett before he drives us all crazy

or somebody kills him.

He doesn't really mean to be

such a pain in the neck, Jerry.

It's just a natural gift

with him, like boxing.

Why do we have to put up with

a bore just to have a boxer?

Confound it, this is a social club.

Let him take his biceps somewhere else.

Corbett's a type.

And you can't take offense

at a type, it's no use.

The offensiveness isn't really individual.

Has he ever pushed you off the

flying rings, just playful like?

Or tickle you when you're

on the parallel bars,

just to see what would happen?

If there was only some way we could pin

his ears back and put him in his place.

Paging Mr. Corbett. Paging Mr. Corbett.

Paging Mr. Corbett.

Rest.

Hands on chest. Place.

Forward. Back. Forward. Back. Forward. Rest.

Hands on hips.

Half bend slowly.

Down, up, down, up, down. Rest.

And this exercise, gentlemen,

is for reducing the waistline.

Hands over the head.

Slowly bending, touching the floor.

Down.

Lower, gentlemen, lower.

Touch the floor, Mr.

Huntington. Touch the floor.

Slowly rising.

Up. Up.

That will be all, gentlemen. Relax.

Hello, Jack.

Well, I'm glad to see they got you fixed up.

Gentlemen, I want you to

meet an old friend of mine,

the one and only Jack Burke.

Former heavyweight champion of

the British Isles and Australia.

- How do you do, Mr. Burke?

- How do you do?

He just got off the boat this morning

so I asked him to drop

in and work out the kinks.

Well, I'm glad you did, Watson.

- How long you staying in town, Mr. Burke?

- Oh, I don't know, sir.

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Vincent Lawrence

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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