Review of Golden Boy

Yes! Yes! Everything you've heard is true. It's sexist and indulges in cultural stereotypes. The dialog is corny and hokey. It's been the butt of a thousand parodies about someone with highbrow potential who goes lowbrow and loses their sense of values, in this case a boy who loves to play the violin but becomes a boxer for the money. Just remember it was based on a play by Clifford Odets, the great proletarian playwright of the thirties. His language was always over the top. He wrote at a time when audiences preferred a well-turned phrase to a well-turned ankle. The language didn't have to reflect life as accurately as a mirror as long as it communicated an idea in a way that was unique and memorable. They didn't mind characters that were caricatures of a race or culture, if the characters stood out sharply against the background. In the big fight scene when William Holden as Joe Bonaparte the Golden Boy and James Green as Chocolate Drop slug it out for the slot of middleweight contender, the people ringside, both black and white are all equally consumed by blood lust. It's the brutality of the spectacle that is being held up as a symbol of Bonaparte's willingness to engage in what is repulsive to him in order to get what he thinks he wants, i.e. material gain. The next part is a spoiler. The film has a happy ending with Bonaparte giving up boxing and his association with the rackets and going back to his core values of family, music and love. In the original Odets' play, he gives up boxing but replaces it with another dangerous activity, fast cars, and he dies in a crash. He is no longer able to recapture those lost values and must seek for greater and greater thrills. Odets didn't really concern himself as much with what was good in American society as with what was wrong with the middle-class. The hero dies because he is rotten. He has given up the good but not replaced it with anything worthwhile. Hollywood of course could never countenance anything as nihilistic as that. Their version is the parable of the prodigal son. At least they kept the language. As corny as it is, it's still some of the best wordsmithing in American literature.