Summary
A sun-bleached Eden somewhere in the American nowhere: seven slouch-hatted youths christen themselves the Slouchy Seven and baptize their leader, Jim, in reservoir ripples that taste of rust and truancy. Authority—embodied by a father who locks doors the way bankers lock vaults—collapses when Jim slips through a window and drifts into a triangulated romance of apples, coy glances, and playground politics. Clarence, all knees and gallantry, pines for apple-cheeked Mary; Mary, in turn, discovers her pulse quickening for the boy who refuses to be caught. The narrative then pivots on a single, fateful railroad-station encounter: Ruth, suitcase in hand, becomes Jim’s temporary Ariadne, guiding him only as far as the gate before vanishing like a half-remembered chord. What follows is a chain of initiations—into fisticuffs with the blacksmith’s oafish heir, into the humiliating rites of the gang, into a prank that detonates the schoolmaster’s dignity and leaves Jim sentenced to cord upon cord of penitential timber. Rebellion detonates again: dog at heel, he bolts toward the city’s sodium glow, only to be swallowed by a hobo underworld that smells of creosote and sour mash. A torn newspaper pleading “Come home” and a bank vault’s gleaming promise cleave the boy’s conscience; in the end he races back, too late to prevent fiscal ruin but just soon enough to shoulder blame, reclaim the loot from a woodpile, and—books balanced beneath one arm—walk the chastened hero’s path beside Mary while the town’s church bells ring like absolution.
Synopsis
Jim is the leader of the "Slouchy Seven," a gang of small town boys. He takes the gang for a swim in the reservoir, and is reported to his father, who, as a punishment, locks him in his room. Jim, however, escapes and goes to the assistance of Clarence, a "nice" boy, who is vainly trying to secure an apple for his sweetheart, Mary. Mary is won by the prowess of Jim, but he is indifferent to girls. Clarence and Mary go for a walk and Tom, the blacksmith's boy, pushes Clarence aside and takes his place beside Mary. Jim goes to find the gang at the railroad station he meets a girl, who asks him the direction to Mr. Morton's, who, she says, is her uncle. Jim offers to take her bags and show her the house. The boys see him and have fun at his expense. He leaves the girl, whose name is Ruth, at the gate and goes to meet the gang. They have lost a member who moved away, and initiate Clarence, who proves to be a good sport. Unaware of the interest he has aroused in Mary's heart, Jim fights Tom, when he again interferes with Clarence and Mary, and is accused by Ruth of being "stuck" on Mary. This he stoutly denies. He calls on Ruth and her uncle tells her to dismiss him, that he is a bad boy. Jim then joins the gang in a prank on the schoolmaster, and as a punishment his father orders him to chop a pile of wood. Jim is rebellious and, taking his dog, leaves the house. He meets Mary and tells her he is going to the city. His dog deserts him and he falls in with a band of tramps. His mother places an ad in a local paper asking him to come home and Mary takes care of his dog. Later he comes back and is induced by the tramps to assist in robbing the bank, of which his father is vice-president. He dresses up and goes to secure the combination. Mary is impressed by his prosperous appearance, and when he hears his mother talking he almost gives up the idea of aiding the tramps, but his father's gruff remarks determine him to keep on. On going back to the tramps he sees his mother's ad in an old newspaper and refuses to help the hobos, but they take the paper with the combination away from him and bind him in a freight car. He escapes and hurries back to the town and tells the gang. They go to the bank, but are not in time to prevent the robbery, and the tramps escape with the loot. The loss ruins the bank, and although Jim is hailed as a hero his conscience troubles him. Finally he tells his father and is forgiven. The money is discovered in a woodpile, and the next day Jim carries Mary's books to school.
Review Excerpt
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A nickelodeon flicker ignites, and suddenly 1917 feels less like a calendar page and more like a bruise—purple with possibility, yellow with fear.
The Bad Boy isn’t merely an artifact exhumed from the celluloid catacombs; it is an adolescent nerve laid bare beneath the klieg lights of early Hollywood. Chester Withey and Frank E. Woods, scripting for the Triangle–Fine Arts machine, distilled small-town Puritan dread into a morality tale that jitters like a hand-cranked zoetrope. Yet within its..."
