Kid Mason has to lose it all to find his true companion, the one who will make sure he doesn’t catch pneumonia, the one who has always had his best interests in mind...his manager George Regan. Tod Browning’s entire filmography depicts outsiders, strange and curious people at first blush but who, sometimes, prove to be more human than expected, embodying compassion and a strong moral willpower and rise above their banishment to the fringes of contemporary society. Here, Browning subverts his own trope and finds pugilist Kid Mason (Lew Ayres), an effeminate young man (hence his sobriquet) who looks nothing like a boxer, a naive boy who looks perfectly “normal” on the outside but hides something within, a dark secret of confused sexuality. Browning gives us hints throughout the film and elides any romantic interludes to focus upon two men and the love they feel for one another. Is it mere friendship or is it a deep physical affection? To Jazz Age audiences, if they looked hard enough, Kid Mason is a Freak who hides behind the mask of heterosexuality.
The plot seems to be fairly straightforward. Kid Mason is subjugated to his gold-digging wife Rose (Jean Harlow) and she’s the beauty that kills the beast, so to speak. When he’s winning, she’s head-over-heels for him but once he loses the title, she finds another man that can afford the new fur coat! Rose remains superficially defined throughout the film because the story is really about Kid Mason and his manager George Regan (Robert Armstrong). Browning has no “love interest” for either man, no compassionate woman to mend our titular hero when he is matrimonially knocked out. There is only one other woman briefly depicted but she threatens to sue Kid for breach of promise, hardly a romantic interlude. But George deftly deflects her advances, and she disappears from the narrative quickly. Even the scenes between Rose and Kid are shallow and devoid of eroticism, like a motherly kiss and embrace. Once cuckolded, Browning makes sure to frame Rose in a sexually charged dance with her partner Paul (John Miljan) and even gives us a bedroom scene between the two, when George finally has enough of her scheming. The other bedroom scenes in the film are between George and Kid! Browning also takes pains to show us George lives the life of a bachelor, gambling with his cohorts and living alone. He never makes a pass or talks about dames once in this seemingly macho film. He and Kid both look uncomfortable around the few women who haunt the story like ghosts, who are one dimensional extortionists. Also, Browning makes sure to often frame Kid sans shirt, showing off his somewhat muscular physique. Like his nickname, this is a young man not yet fully defined which includes his sexual identity. When he and George reminisce about the time George gave him his first beer while fishing, and they laugh kindly about the lie they told to cover up this tale, maybe it wasn’t a beer after all. I suggest this story is told purposely in the film to forge the bond between the two, so the final betrayal is all the more tragic, yet upon reflection it becomes even more important in their relationship.
One key scene seems to be missing from extant prints, though it’s mentioned in contemporary reviews. In the final fight, after Kid reads the divorce decree from Paul’s wife (thus cementing his suspicion of her infidelity), as he gets knocked out in the ring, Browning crosscuts with Rose getting cold-cocked by Paul and also knocked out! Kid loses his facade as both husband and Champion, and the final tender scene is between him and George! As Kid sits in a chair and holds his head in despair, George hovers over him in a dominant composition but speaks softly, like a lover, admonishing him to put on his robe lest he catch pneumonia. Kid doesn’t stand to meet him, only looks upward in a striking composition that ends the film. So, Kid grows up, he loses his Title and his wife, but not himself. It’s truly beautiful.
Final Grade: (B)