The Other Jack the Giant Killer

Jack Sharkey vs. Primo Carnera I
Ebbets Field, Brooklyn, NY 1931
16mm Sound Transfer
Speed and Audio Restoration

A recent article I wrote was accompanied with newsreel footage of Jack Sharkey in training for his first fight with Primo Carnera in 1931, including rare footage of Ernie Schaaf. As I described in the piece, Sharkey went on to win a 15-round decision. The victory propelled Sharkey back into contention and to his rematch with Max Schmeling for the heavyweight championship in 1932. Sharkey was given what many regard as a gift decision against Schmeling, and held the title for only one year. I was planning to move on from there, but by chance I recently found and acquired a rare 16mm print of that first Sharkey-Carnera fight.
 
The Film
 
The print arrived marked as part of the Schlitz Famous Fights TV series, which ran for a number of years beginning in the 1950s. Excerpts of this film have been circulated for some time among collectors, and versions have also been posted on YouTube, often as projector screen videos or from old VHS tapes. I wanted to show a clean telecine transfer of some of this film. A drawback of today’s boxing coverage is that it widens the gap between contemporary HD quality and the analog films of earlier eras. Younger viewers are used to seeing fights in amazing detail and have, unfortunately, less appreciation for earlier boxing. The networks today don’t help either. I’ve expressed before my frustration with ESPN for showing classic footage on an as-is basis with little or no picture restoration.

Fortunately this print arrived in excellent condition, with few breaks or scratches. The ring photography was average for the day. The exposure was dark, but the density provides some extra detail often lost in films of this period. Notably, many films made under the bright ring lights were poorly exposed, sometimes to the point of completely blowing out Irish complexions into a ghostly white. There is no live audio, but the great Sam Taub provides the narration. Most famous as a live blow-by-blow radio announcer, Taub delivers a classic style narrative of the fighters and action.

The one drawback of the film is the projection speed. As Steve Lott once explained to me, it was during the Depression of the 1930s that film stock, like most everything, was in short supply. To conserve footage, films were often taken at the silent speed of approximately 16 frames per second instead of the standard 24 frames per second established for sound movies. Movie theaters may have slowed their projectors to compensate at the time, but the surviving prints, such as this one, runs at a speedy 24fps. This is why most early 20th century fight films appear more like Keystone Cop movies than historic sports events. For this video, I not only slowed the film down to standard speed, but I kept Sam Taub’s narration is as well. If Sam sounds a little lethargic, it’s because he’s actually speaking about a third slower than normal, though I kept his voice at a natural pitch. 

“…a long way to climb to reach that chin.”—Jack Sharkey

The first Sharkey-Carnera fight was held at Ebbets Field, Brooklyn, on October 12, 1931. It has largely been lost in history. It wasn’t a title fight, and the rematch two years later was an upset that forever cast a shadow over both fighters. This fight, however, appears to have been a legitimate contest and a turning point for both boxers. Carnera had come up the ranks very quickly, and suspiciously, and was still a question mark as a title contender. Sharkey needed the win to secure a rematch with Schmeling. The fight was not as close as some contemporary descriptions indicate. Despite being five inches shorter and 60 pounds lighter than Carnera, Sharkey shook the bigger man repeatedly throughout the contest, including a knockdown in the fourth round. The Barrier Miner Daily wrote, “Well advised by his seconds, Sharkey continued to rip into the body, which forced Carnera to drop his guard. Then Jack would crack Carnera’s jaw so hard that he wobbled repeatedly, but did not fall. The eleventh and twelfth were like a terrier worrying a St. Bernard. Carnera was weary and staggering in the fourteenth, and just before the final bell reeled and swayed drunkenly on the verge of a knockout, as Sharkey riddled his head with lefts and rights in a tempest of battering that left him unable to defend himself.” It was a decisive win.

Primo lost the fight but won the public’s respect. He proved to be a courageous boxer, and while not a resourceful fighting machine, he was durable, strong, and very agile for a man his size. Since the entire film of the fight is nearly 50 minutes long, I’ve included only the last two rounds. I wanted to show how Sharkey closed the show. Jack had a good night, in front of 30,000 spectators who watched the match in weather “so cold that most of the spectators wore mufflers and overcoats.” Not only moving well to evade Carnera’s attacks, Sharkey was very effective at getting inside Primo’s defenses, closing the distance to finish the fight with the kind of action rarely seen today among heavyweights. At the final bell, Sharkey rejoices, discarding his mouthpiece and pushing referee Gunboat Smith aside as he follows Carnera to his corner to pay respect.

The Warrior's Bond

Jack Sharkey & Ernie Schaaf
Newsreel Interview 1931
Primo Carnera vs. Ernie Schaaf 1933
16mm print Transfer
 
Newsreels contain a wealth of hidden historical treasures. There are hundreds of thousands of hours of film now being curated in archives around the world. But due to the amount of material and limited resources, the archives often provide limited information for each entry, with some material going undocumented. Recently I was scanning through an index of boxing newsreels made during the 1930s, looking for alternate footage not used in the officially released versions. At the bottom of one listing, I spotted the word Schaaf. When I obtained and finally viewed the film, I saw that it was a promotional reel featuring heavyweight Jack Sharkey training in May 1931 to fight Primo Carnera. Included in the footage, as I had hoped, was rare film of Sharkey’s friend and protégé, Ernie Schaaf.

Rich Man Poor Man

Sharkey and Schaaf exemplified the warrior’s bond. Sharkey, who was six years older than Schaaf, was already an established boxer when they met as Navy seamen on board the battleship Denver. The two boxed, and Sharkey, admiring Schaaf’s determination in the ring, began mentoring the teenager. After the Navy, the two remained friends as they climbed the professional ranks during the 1920s. Both experienced mixed luck with their careers. Sharkey fast-tracked during the mid-1920s, before losing to Jack Dempsey and later to Max Schmeling. But on the rise again, he defeated Primo Carnera in 1931, and then won the Heavyweight Championship in a disputed decision from Max Schmeling the following year. 
Meanwhile, Schaaf’s record was spotty. So in 1930, Sharkey acted on both faith and loyalty to Schaaf when he and his manager, John Buckley, bought Schaaf’s contract. The two boxers became official stable mates and Schaaf began to prosper—with victories over a youthful Tony Galento, Paulino Uzcudun, Jim Braddock, Tommy Loughran, Max Baer and Young Stribling. There were also losses, including a rematch with future champion Max Baer, where Schaaf was battered unconscious just seconds before the final bell, suffering, many believe, permanent brain damage. By 1933, however, Schaaf was a top-ranked heavyweight, right behind his friend and champion Jack Sharkey.
Dual fighter/manager partnerships are not uncommon, but Sharkey and Schaaf were unique, remaining friends while ascending the ranks to within one fight of facing each other. There was talk of Ernie hiring a new manager in the event that he would challenge Sharkey for the title. After Schaaf’s victory over Young Stribling, The Reading Eagle reported, “The victory may have moved Schaaf into the somewhat embarrassing position of crowding his co-manager, who was in his corner, for a place in the heavyweight sun.” In The Gettysburg Times, the two reportedly joked about the prospect, with Sharkey suggesting a way “to devise some painless means of passing the crown along to him” when Sharkey tired of the title.

The Last Fight

 Instead, events soon played out like a Greek tragedy. On February 10, 1933, at Madison Square Garden, it was Schaaf’s turn to fight Primo Carnera, a boxer that neither Schaaf nor Sharkey should have lost to. Ernie appeared to be having an off night during the battle, and in the 13th round, Carnera hit Schaaf with a stiff left jab. Even today, the sequence that followed is chilling to watch on the film; the sight of Schaaf tumbling to the canvas, struggling with sudden paralysis, and then collapsing. As the ring fills with Primo’s well-wishers, Sharkey drags the unconscious Schaaf back to his corner. Unable to wake him, Schaaf’s limp body is lifted out of the ring and carried off. All this under the roar of 20,000 boos raining down from the crowd calling out “FAKE.” Even the best Hollywood boxing movies would have trouble matching a scene like this.
At the hospital, belief was that Schaaf might recover. He eventually came to and was speaking. Sharkey reportedly stayed with Ernie through the night. The following morning, the doctors expressed hope regarding Schaaf’s condition. Only then did Sharkey leave town on a trip with his family. Schaaf died after emergency surgery on Valentine’s Day 1933 and Sharkey never saw his friend alive again. Carnera, it was reported, was crushed by the news of Ernie’s death, and cried for hours. For a detailed story on the circumstances of Schaaf’s death, please read the excellent article by Norman Marcus, “The Strange Death of Ernie Schaaf.”

David Loses to Goliath

 The epilogue to this drama came four months later when champion Sharkey faced Primo Carnera in their rematch. This was the title challenge intended for Schaaf. Now instead, Sharkey was facing Ernie’s killer. After a competitive six rounds, an uppercut/shove by Carnera dumped Sharkey on the canvas like a beached whale. He lay motionless as he was counted out. Rumors have circulated for years that the knockout was not on the level. There were mob connections, primarily involving Carnera. Sharkey denied the loss was anything but genuine, adding famously that he was distracted by the sight of Schaaf’s ghost standing in the ring. “I had no trouble, physically fit and everything and I boxed the guy (Carnera) before . . . I looked and I see a vision of Ernie Schaaf. There’s no pain . . . like in a dream. Of course when you snap out of it, that’s when the shame comes. You know you’ve lost.”

The Films

The newsreel footage is striking in several ways. Sharkey looks impressive during the training portion. Though only 6’ tall, modest height for a heavyweight, Sharkey appears strong, well-conditioned and projects great physical intensity and humor. Schaaf, though dressed in a suit and tie for the occasion, looks impressive as well. At 6’2”, he is clearly the bigger of the two men. Despite the scripting that was common for newsreel sound bites, it’s clear that the two are friends and trying not to crack up. The image of Schaaf in this film is a sharp contrast to the man who appeared dwarfed in the ring against 6’6” Primo Carnera. The newsreel also puts a face and a voice to a man, who has mostly been associated with images of his death.
I’ve also included the Official Films abridged version of the Carnera-Schaaf fight from an excellent 16mm print. With the exposure and film speed adjusted, the action suggests that Schaaf was in trouble even before the knockout. I also have a longer version of this fight, but the print quality is poor, though it does include the post-fight footage with Schaaf being attended to and taken from the ring. I have inserted that scene at the end.

Jim Jeffries - A Champion Lost and Found

James J. Jeffries vs. Gus Ruhlin
World Heavyweight Championship
Mechanic’s Pavilion, San Francisco, California
November 15, 1901
Muteoscope Film Restoration
 
The Champion

Few boxing champions have been so revered in their time, and so dismissed by history as Jim Jeffries, Undefeated Heavyweight Champion 1899-1905. He was perhaps the first post bare-knuckle champion who showed that even gloved boxing could be brutal and explosive. He reigned supremely over the last and best heavyweight division of the 19th century. His retirement in 1905, followed by the brief but prolific campaign of the next champion Tommy Burns, left the heavyweight division all but swept for the 10 years that followed. This summation excludes of course the handful of brilliant African American boxers who were denied title fights because of racism, not only by the establishment including Jeffries, but also by one of their own who was not denied, the great Jack Johnson.

The Defeated

Against his better judgment, Jeffries came back to fight Johnson in 1910 and lost “The Fight of the Century” which was as equally anticlimactic as was the promotion overblown. Jeffries stature all but crumbled to dust under the Nevada sun. This single professional loss tarnished Jeffries entire career, not only due to the fight result, but from the unfair public rejection expressed by many whites toward Jeffries in the aftermath. It wasn’t until the second Louis-Schmeling fight that boxers such as Johnson and Jeffries fought each other with so much social and political weight on their backs.

Adding insult to injury, the Johnson-Jeffries fight films triggered race-riots which resulted in the banning of boxing film distribution for the next 30 years. With each new telling of this chapter, and from ever more youthful and contemporary perspectives, the old footage is run over and over with Jeffries gleefully described as a tired old man, and Johnson as a superhuman athlete. Neither was true, but it’s not a difficult argument to make, due to the wealth of Johnson footage against inferior competition, and to the lack of film showing Jeffries in his prime.

Lost and Found

Jeffries’ misfortune was to reign during the dark ages of early fights films. Gentleman Jim Corbett and Bob Fitzsimmons, who preceded Jeffries as champions, were both filmed in action with some success and the movies were widely distributed and have since survived. However, beginning with the attempted filming of the first Jeffries-Fitzsimmons fight in 1899, there were a series of failures in fight film production. Between 1902 and 1906, nearly all major bouts went partially or completely un-filmed due to equipment breakdowns, lack of investment, court battles over copyright or the constrictive demands of the promoters. It wasn’t until 1906 that these issues began to shake out and film crews with better technology began recording fights on a more frequent basis.

Fortunately, just prior to this period, Jeffries was filmed in at least two of his championship fights. The first was the Jeffries-Sharkey fight in 1899. By all descriptions and based upon the few movie frames that still exist, the film and fight were a success in capturing Jeffries and the great Sailor Tom Sharkey in their primes. But that footage has been lost, though a movie of the same bout was also taken independently by a cameraman in the audience. That film, distant and shaky, offers only a glimpse of the event.

The Edison Company

Fortunately, there is one more Jeffries fight film that exists today. In 1901 the Edison Company, who had previously filmed Jim Corbett in a staged studio match in 1894, wanted a bigger stake in the fight film business. Traveling from New Jersey to San Francisco, the Edison crew set out to film Jeffries defending against contender Gus Ruhlin in San Francisco on November 15. The fight is among the most obscure heavyweight title bouts in boxing history, but there was great anticipation at the time. Jeffries was immensely popular and Ruhlin was considered a real challenge. Both Jeffries and Ruhlin were first filmed in training as they prepared for the match.

The Fight

As for the fight itself, the contest failed to deliver the excitement that Jeffries was known for. To make matters worse, Ruhlin quit after only five rounds. There were calls of a fake, but Jeffries later wrote in a biography published in The Pittsburgh Press, “Ruhlin was a good fighter…who just couldn’t get up for the next round. My heavy body punches had nearly broken him in two.”

Cameras rolled throughout the entire fight, but it was another production failure. The exposure was poor, and the inexperienced director positioned the camera much too far from the ring. The film had a limited release, but with the fight being a bust, the movie was promoted as a “sparring session” to lower audience expectations.

The Restoration

The surviving footage of the Jeffries-Ruhlin fight is taken from Muteoscope cards (vintage hand-cranked flip card viewers) and not directly from the film negatives. This is likely the only reason the film survived. The image is cloudy and poor. I used several restoration treatments to improve the film. Nearly every frame is either washed out or very dark, which results in the flashing effect, but I did adjust the exposure of several sections. The sharpening tool helped restore some detail, though resulting in some pixilation. Finally, the video stabilizer softened the frame jitter and during key exchanges, I also zoomed in on the fighters, despite the poor quality, to bring the action a little closer. The technology didn’t perform any miracles here, but this humble restoration gives us a better look at Jeffries than the original copy. 

The Film

As the film starts, there are two very brief clips including the end of a round and the rest period as cornermen fan the boxers with towels. Jeffries is wearing dark trunks, and he stands in front of his stool in the left corner, oddly bending over. Only a single full round of the fight is shown, and it’s unclear if it is round three or four since Ruhlin was knocked down in both. We see Ruhlin score a good right to the body early in the round, but it’s all Jeffries thereafter, primarily using his left hook. As witnesses testified, Ruhlin was outclassed from the start and Jeffries spent much of the fight in pursuit. But there are some vivid moments of the champion during the exchanges that show what a dangerous fighter he was; including his speed, power and ability to cut off the ring. Jeffries is often likened to Rocky Marciano, but in watching him against Gus Ruhlin, his rigid stance, ever stalking and “slam-bang” attacks compare more to Gene Fullmer. In any case, the Jim Jeffries in this film is not the same man who lumbered after Jack Johnson nine years later.

"Jess Willard's Last Stand" -vs- Floyd Johnson & Luis Firpo 1923

Willard -vs- Floyd Johnson and Luis Ángel Firpo 1923
16mm Transfer & Restoration
10 Minutes, Silent & Sound

Jess Willard was one of those rare champions who manifested greatness in the single most important fight of his career. (Buster Douglas is another example that comes to mind.) Willard’s otherwise modest record crested on April 5, 1915, when he faced the seemingly unbeatable Jack Johnson for the heavyweight championship in Havana, Cuba.  After taking everything Johnson could throw for 12 rounds, the towering 6’6” Willard never lost his cool, and wore the champion down, knocking Johnson out in the 26th round.

During the four years that followed, Willard was, unfortunately, a complacent champion. He defended once in 1916 against contender Frank Moran, but otherwise chose to be inactive during the First World War and did not to fight again until July 4, 1919. In that historic match, challenger Jack Dempsey gave Willard the beating of the century; most of it in the first three minutes. It became the second fight Willard is remembered for. 

Comeback 

Willard’s career didn’t end there, however. The former champion had two more important prizefights, both of them four years later during his long forgotten comeback. On May 12, 1923, promoter Tex Rickard hosted the opening of Yankee Stadium with a huge boxing card that included heavyweight contenders Luis Ángel Firpo, Floyd Johnson and others, including Jess Willard. Jess had been lured out of retirement by Rickard with the prospect of a return match with Dempsey. “What people forget about Willard,” Rickard said before the bout, “is that he can punch.”

The event was a title eliminator and Floyd Johnson was matched with Willard. Burning with comeback fever, Willard shed 20 pounds, trained seriously, and appeared leaner than he had since his championship days. Still, the media was not impressed, and Johnson was favored to win easily. Not to be upstaged, Dempsey’s manager Doc Kearns even announced ahead of time that Floyd Johnson would likely be Dempsey’s next opponent.

The fight did not go as planned. From the opening bell Willard fought aggressively and dominated the action. By the middle rounds, the 41-year-old Willard appeared to tire, but he rallied back and dropped Johnson briefly in the ninth. Late in the 11th round, Willard scored again, decking Johnson with a smashing uppercut. Johnson got up and returned to his corner, but he was bloody and hurt and unable to continue.

Jess Willard, the Comeback Kid, had won on a TKO. It was sweet redemption, spoiling the party for Jack Dempsey’s next opponent.

"Youth,” wrote Damon Runyon in the New York American, “take off your hat and bow low and respectfully to Age." 

The Last Stand 

Willard was then matched with Firpo, who had knocked out Jack McAuliffe in three rounds on the same card. Two months later on July 12, 1923, at Boyle's Thirty Acres in Jersey City, New Jersey, Willard faced “The Wild Bull of the Pampas” with the winner to meet Dempsey for the heavyweight championship. Firpo, however, was a wrecking machine. Since arriving in the U.S. in 1922, the 6’2” powerhouse from Argentina had blown through the ranks, leaving a trail of knockout victims. For seven rounds Jess held his own (allegedly with a broken hand), but Firpo clubbed Willard to the canvas in the eighth and Jess failed to beat the count. 

The Films 

The Jess Willard-Floyd Johnson fight was filmed, but the knockout footage was either lost or never captured. The existing footage is raw and unedited, perhaps shot by a newsreel crew. I suggest this because the fight sequences are brief, as the photographer stops and start the camera to catch key moments of action. Fortunately the footage itself, taken late in the afternoon under clear skies, is well preserved and remarkably good quality. It shows Willard in good form, looking trim and fighting well against the young contender. I have included photographs of the knockout.

The Willard-Firpo fight, also seen here, took place at night under the stadium lighting. As far as I know, only a highlight of this fight survives.  It was widely distributed in 8mm and 16mm in the Monarchs of The Ring (Official Films) boxing anthology series beginning in the 1940s. The footage includes Firpo training, the referee’s the referee’s instructions, and the 8th round knockout. 

Gene Tunney -vs- Jack Dempsey 1926 (Restored Full Fight)

Gene Tunney -vs- Jack Dempsey 1926

World Heavyweight Championship

Philadelphia, PA

(Complete Fight Reconstruction/speed correction/exposure/frame aspect/image matching)

The Fight

I’ve always wanted to see the complete 1926 Dempsey-Tunney fight film.  The first of their two bouts was huge at the time, but has since been overshadowed by the rematch and “The Long Count” the following year.  I wanted to see how the first fight played out, especially how did Dempsey perform during the first couple of rounds when he was still fresh, and still believing that he was invincible?  Did Tunney really overwhelm Dempsey from the start or was it more competitive than what the newspapers said?  What does the surviving footage reveal?

A couple of years ago, film collector Tony Fosco told me he wasn’t sure that complete footage of  Tunney-Dempsey I still existed.  He claimed to have compiled most of the rounds from various sources, but not all.  Joe passed away before I saw his film.  I have since spoken to Steve Lott of Big Fights Inc, who said that only about 14 minutes exist of the 1926 fight.  This particular 14 minutes is what most people have seen over the last 70 years, from home movie shorts from Castle Films to ESPN Classic television.

The Film

A few months ago I obtained from a collector what was promised to be a copy of the complete original 1926 film.  The DVD that arrived contained a copy of the original footage, but it was from a poor washed out screen-copy that only showed rounds 1 through 6 (I’ve seen this copy on Youtube already, which has filler footage tacked on after round 6.)  The footage is poor, but it’s a good reference.  So I went back through my own film collection and discovered several short versions of this famous fight going back to when I started collecting films as a teenager.  These were editions not only from Castle Films, but Blackhawk Films, documentaries, Classic Sports, Newsreels and sports compilations.  As I went through each version, I realized that most of the material was taken from the same original theatrical fight film.  However, no two editions were exactly the same, suggesting that each version contained unique footage.

The Reconstruction

Over the following week, I rounded up the footage I had and loaded everything into my video editor.  The various sources were trimmed round by round, matching the best quality footage with the action in the original master.  Some clips showed the entire round, some clips lasting only a few seconds.  I quickly discovered that in the most common editions of the fight (Castle Films, Official Films), the rounds were completely out of order.  For instance, rounds described as 1 and 10, are actually portions of rounds 3, 5 and 9.  These were also, incidentally, the worst rounds for Dempsey.  When the editing was finished, I had partial or complete footage of every round (except for rounds 7-8 which were never issued).

** Note that the picture quality jumps back and forth as the best quality footage is inserted for that portion of the fight.

The progression of the fight went mostly as the newspapers described it.  Tunney was brilliant, and he controlled the action from beginning to end.  His strategy was to throw an endless barrage of overhand rights to slow Dempsey down.  Then Tunney would pepper Dempsey with jabs and combinations. When Jack rushed Gene to the ropes, Tunney would spin Dempsey around and hold until the referee broke them.  Tunney did this over and over again through the entire fight, and Jack never had an answer.

What about Dempsey?  Did he really look like an old tired fighter?  Having not fought in three years, Dempsey was rusty, but he was also unprepared.  In the early rounds, when Jack was still fresh, he showed flashes of his old style, and Gene struggled to control the action.  Tunney didn’t take full control of the fight until the round 3.  The biggest myth about the fight is that Jack simply held on after the early rounds and was close to being knocked out at the end.  The Dempsey I see in this film was outclassed, but he was game until the very end, and even launched a rally before the final bell.  Tunney was an absolute ironman.  Gene had to be incredibly strong to do what he did, fighting Dempsey at the same pace for 10 rounds.  I believe that even in 1926, Gene Tunney was still the only fighter in the division who would have beaten Dempsey.

I hope you enjoy seeing this great fight, as much as I enjoyed restoring it.

Two Sluggers at The Office

Jack Dempsey and Joe Louis Newsreels and in Training

They Were Champions (Excerpt) 1954

16mm Sound

The Film

They Were Champions, produced in 1954, follows the linear heavyweight champions from Sullivan to Marciano.   There’s little film of the actual title fights, but plenty of newsreel and rare training footage.  I’ve chosen these two segments, as Dempsey (in training for Willard) and Louis were the most ferocious punchers up to that point.  The power of these two champions is still something to behold.

The Restoration

The 16mm film I acquired is in fair to good shape.  Some of the Dempsey action ran too fast to follow the action, so I slowed that footage to a more natural speed.  A portion of this is silent.  The Louis segment runs with sound, just as it appears in the documentary.

Ezzard Charles vs Jersey Joe Walcott I 1949

Ezzard Charles vs Jersey Joe Walcott I

June 22, 1949
World Heavyweight Championship
Rounds 14-15, Kinescope

The Fight
When heavyweight contenders Ezzard Charles and Jersey Joe Walcott fought for the first time, it was for the vacated title of retired champion Joe Louis. Charles won a 15 round decision in a fight that lacked the excitement that fans had expected. The two fought three more times, with Walcott winning the last two. Despite the deterioration this is historic footage, it’s a rare look at Charles at the start of his two year reign, and of Walcott bouncing back from his loss to Joe Louis a year before.

The Film
A Kinescope is a film photographed directly off a TV screen. This was the original method of recording television broadcasts until it was replaced by video tape around 1956. In fact, in the years just following the Second World War, many television programs were either not recorded or have since been lost. This fight took place during that period. Footage of the last three Charles-Walcott fights has been available for years, but images of the first fight have been scarce. However, this brief kinescope shows the last two rounds of that fight and the historic decision.

The Restoration

My original source was poor to begin with, but I was able to enhance the picture contrast, color and tone, as well as the sound. Enjoy this brief look at this rare fight.

Joe Louis vs Bob Pastor II 1939

Joe Louis vs Bob Pastor II
Detroit Stadium, September 20, 1939
Film Transfer, Silent 10 Minutes

The Fight
After Joe Louis knocked out Max Schmeling in 1938, avenging his only pro career loss, the young heavyweight champion began an uncommonly busy schedule of fights that is unfairly referred to as “The Bum of The Month Club”. This series of title fights ran through 1939-1941 and ended when faced the giant Buddy Baer, followed by former Light Heavyweight champion Bill Conn. Not since Tommy Burns world tour of 1906-1908 had a heavyweight champion been so active. Far from unworthy, most of Louis’s opponents were nonetheless outclassed by one of the most dangerous fighting machines in boxing history. This was also the depression era, and few fighters could afford the top notch trainers and support needed to prepare for such a demanding title fight. It has to be said, regardless of the results, that Louis challengers came to fight. Once such challenger was Bob Pastor, who had gone a full 10 rounds with pre-champion Louis in 1937. The feat earned him a shot at the title in September 1939. Pastor put up a spirited defense, surviving an early beating and even staged a rally in the eighth round. In the eleventh, Louis got down to business and knocked Pastor senseless.

The Film
According to The New York Times, the bout was filmed by Hollywood producer Jack Dietz using two cameras. Though I have never seen the original footage, the prints I have seen, including this one, is badly overexposed. Both Louis and Pastor appear chalky and blown out against the background. Like other fight films of the day, the movie was shown in theatres where it was a successful attraction.

The Restoration
Despite the exposure, the film still has plenty of detail. I was able to adjust the contrast, and remove much of the flaring. This increased the clarity, and correcting the film speed made the fight easier to follow. Not yet 30 years old, Louis was at the peak of his powers. He’s patient, conditioned, focused and deadly accurate with his punches. How Pastor survived the first round I’ll never know.

Primo Carnera vs Ernie Schaaf 1932

(1.) Official Films, circa 1940, 16mm silent 100’
(2.) Speed and Picture Restoration

The Fight
On February 10, 1933 at Madison Square Garden in New York, heavyweight boxer Ernie Schaaf fought 13 competitive rounds with contender Primo Carnera. Suddenly, after taking a straight left to the forehead, Schaaf collapsed and never recovered. He died two days later. It’s believed that Schaaf was critically ill when he entered the ring that night. He had been knocked out by Max Baer the year before in a savage fight, and appeared never to recover.

The tragedy played out before the cameras. Schaaf was knocked down by Primo in the 13th round. You can practically see the light going out of Schaaf’s eyes as he sinks to the canvas. Schaaf’s manager, Jack Sharkey (Then reigning heavyweight champion) drags Schaaf back to his corner. Unable to regain consciousness, Schaaf is carried like a fallen solder from the ring. Later the following year, Jack Sharkey went on to fight Carnera in a title match. Sharkey was knocked out in six rounds in what was suspected as a fake, and Carnera became champion. Many believe that Carnera’s mob connections pressured or paid Sharkey to thrown the fight. Sharkey had previously defeated Carnera in 1931.

The Movie
The fight was filmed, but the cameras ran at silent speed (16fps) to conserve film stock. This was common with most fight films made during the Depression and War years. As a result, when projected a standard speed, the action appears so fast it’s hard to view the action in detail. Carnera was a genuine athlete and very agile for a man of his size, which he used to great advantage over his smaller opponents. It’s also clear in the early rounds what a skilled fighter Schaaf was. He had great moves and despite his frustration getting on the inside with Carnera, he tagged Primo with counterpunches and overhands.

The Video
I own three 16mm film versions of this fight – Monarchs of The Ring, Official Film short, and an Extended Edition showing most of the fight with narration. This is the complete Official Films Short subject version. The print was in great condition, with no splices and the sharpest picture I’ve seen. The contrast is high, but there’s still plenty of detail. There are no major scratches and once cleaned, the film transferred with no trouble. In this clip, I’ve adjusted the film speed to show the fight at original time.