Comparisons to the 1937 version of "Kid Galahad" are pointless, the only similarity between the two films is the nickname of the title character. It probably suits Elvis Presley a bit better than Wayne Morris, the knight in shining armor who at the film's opening touts his reputation in song as 'King of the Whole Wide World'. The movie's trailer calls it a 'honey of a picture', and for his fans back in the day, maybe so.

Events in the story conspire to turn Presley's character Walter Gulick from an ex-GI mechanic into a successful local boxer, thereby earning him a paycheck and the heart of Rose Grogan (Joan Blackman), kid sis of Willy (Gig Young). Together they own the Grogan Gaelic Gardens, an upstate New York resort that can't turn a profit because Willy Grogan is a gambling lush in hock to local hoods.

You'd be hard pressed to call this a boxing movie though, Elvis takes turns as a punching bag in virtually every ring scene until he finds the magnetic wonder punch to knock his opponent out. The dramatic set up for Cream Valley's Labor Day extravaganza includes Grogan's encounter with the bad boys who hope to make a killing with bets on the fight. Kid Galahad comes through, but you knew that, this is the King's movie.

There are some interesting casting surprises here, highlighted by Charles Bronson's turn as Galahad's trainer, and a very early film appearance by the uncredited Ed Asner. Gig Young is generally competent as Grogan, while female leads Lola Albright and Joan Blackman don't have a lot to do except play off their respective boyfriends. Albright's Dolly Fletcher gets to fire off an effective one liner defending Elvis' character when she starts to lose patience for Grogan's marriage delays.

Every now and then you'll catch an art deco tease with vivid reds, yellow and blues interspersed with Presley's songs. All are fairly mellow tunes; the "I Got Lucky" number brought a chuckle as I imagined it being performed in a corn field instead of by the side of a lake. You know, the slow twist accompaniment seemed a bit, well, corny.

Hey, it's not a bad little flick and a better way to remember Elvis by than the bloated self destructive image he came to bear in the years before his death. A bit of escapist entertainment that in it's way echoes Dolly Fletcher's sentiment early in the film - "Thanks Galahad".