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The Great John L.
The calendar rolls back here to tell the story of the rise and fall and then the recovery of John L. Sullivan, variously known as "The Boston Strong Boy" and "Honest John." The ground is extensive and the time set aside to furrow it proves dramatically sustaining. While "The Great John L." would be better off in less than 96 minutes, nevertheless it is a pleasing show that ought to deliver general satisfaction for audiences at large, and encourage the new Crosby company to further production efforts. With the '80s as a beginning, the opportunity for production values was obvious and the obvious was seized. It was the day when a girl kissing a boy meant marriage and when pugilism was no more polite than the bare knuckles method used by its maulers. John L., played by Greg McClure, rose to skyrocket fame in this day. He fought hard and clean, he lived hard and he loved hard. Barbara Britton, as Kathy Harkness, turns him down for vague reasons having to do with a "weakness" which later proves to be the curse of drink. On .the rebound, Linda Darnell, musical comedy actress called Anne Livingstone, catches him. They marry, but the union hits the rocks in due time. Miss Darnell nobly withdraws to clear the way for Miss Britton, who actually is the undeserving one. Meanwhile, Sullivan continues drinking and smoking his way through a hectic life, climaxed by loss of the championship crown to James J. Corbett. Redemption arrives when Sullivan finally abandons drink, hits the sawdust trail, becomes a lecturer on temperance and, finally, marries Miss Britton. "The Great John L." has plenty of action when it is in the ring. When it is not, the pace inclines to saunter. McClure, who makes his bow in this attraction, of course is endowed with the physique necessary to the part. He hasn't always got the histrionics which the role requires, but for his first major endeavor does reasonably well. Miss Darnell, photographed beautifully, is very good as the sacrificing woman and, in some ways the best performer of the entire cast. Miss Britton is wooden in a characterization which fails to offer much. Others, like Otto Kruger, Wallace Ford, J. M. Kerrigan, George Mathew and Robert Barrat, are limited by their parts but perform what is given them representatively. James Edward Grant's script is comprehensive perhaps beyond the point that serves the best interest of the film. So, too, with Frank Turtle's direction. Had they tightened their blueprint, the running time would have been advantageously telescoped and the pace consequently accelerated. Unexpectedly bursting upon the screen, and the outstanding single sequence, is a Paris match between Sullivan and a French contender who turns out to be the champion of the method known as the savate. Using his stockinged feet and never his hands, he reduces Sullivan to a near shambles until the world champ manages one on the jaw. When he does, the Frenchman starts spinning like a top and comes to a halt when Sullivan lands another which sends his opponent across half a room and through all intervening furniture. It's a genuine howl and it might easily prove to be what audiences will remember most in the entire picture. Frank R. Mastroly produced in association with Grant.
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