Cinema: Jelloweight

Kid Galahad. Wham! Whomp! Thunk! Glunk! The Kid in the white satin trunks with the shamrock-green piping is down. The ringside crowd is up and roaring. “Sev-hin, A-yut, Nigh-yen”—the Kid’s up again. He’s bleeding at the mouth. How much more of this grueling punishment can the Kid take? Well, say another 15 or 20 solid punches right in the kisser. But don’t sell the Kid short. He has a heart of gold and a head of lead. When his eyes begin to look like two fried eggs, he’ll land a right on his opponent’s jaw like a megaton of bricks. Blowie! Another K.O. for Kid Galahad.

Anyone who believes this will cherish the rest of this movie. Since Kid Galahad is Elvis Presley, he has trouble lifting his eyelids, let alone eight-ounce gloves. Except for Joan Blackman’s sweater, there is precious little to open anyone’s eyes in this re-botch of the 1937 movie about the seamy side of the fight game. Between bouts, Presley Elviscerates a few helpless songs, moos over Joan, and twists like Little Egypt. Gig Young as a blarneying promoter and Lola Albright as his “fiancée” try to beat some brains into the picture but the script resists successfully.