Hello Folks!
This weekend Comet Over Hollywood is hosting their first blogathon, the theme of which is celebrities who died before they were 51 years old. When I heard about the blogathon I knew exactly who I wanted to write about, so that was nice, no room for indecisive Natalie to be indecisive... Anyway, thanks a million to Jessica for hosting this blogathon, and make sure you all go read these posts honoring the stars who died to soon - I know I'm looking forward to it. And, without further a-do, my contribution:
*****
Errol Flynn. Easily one of the most incredible men who ever lived - in both senses of the word, in all areas of his life. The king of the swashbucklers. One of the best remembered actors of the era, and one of my personal favorites:
"By instinct I'm an adventurer; by choice I'd like to be a writer; by pure, unadulterated luck, I'm an actor." - Errol Flynn
On screen, Errol was one of the greats of the age. Off screen, he was an alcoholic, drug-addict, and led a less-than-moral life in general. Even his autobiography, published shortly after his death in 1959, was titled My Wicked, Wicked Ways; and he had originally wanted to call it In Like Me in reference to the phrase "In like Flynn" coined during two trials he was involved in during the 40s.
This gin and girls, devil-may-care lifestyle may have made Errol a renown ladies' man and the subject of some colorful rumors, but it's not exactly Benjamin Franklin's idea on how to live a long life! By the early 1950s you can see the wear of it all, with Flynn's youthful good looks and athleticism all but gone; and in 1958, when he was nearing the end of his days, you could tell it. John Huston, the director of one of Flynn's last films The Roots of Heaven (1958), had this to say of the time:
Errol Flynn was truly ill, but
it had nothing to do with Africa. He had a vastly enlarged liver. He continued
to drink, however, and he was also on drugs. He knew he was in bad shape, but
he put on a great show of good spirits. He’d brought along some fine French
wines, potted grouse and various delicacies from Paris – and plenty of vodka. I
remember seeing Errol sitting alone night after night in the middle of the
compound with a book, reading by the light of a Coleman lantern. There was
always a bottle of vodka on the camp table beside him. When I went to sleep he
was there, and when I’d wake up in the middle of the night I’d see him still sitting
there – the book open, but Errol not reading any longer, just looking into his
future, I think, of which there wasn’t very much left.
It's sad isn't it? Really, it breaks my heart that such a man should die so young - just 50 years old - and from such sad causes... Now then, seeing as how my conscience has been cleared, and I've explained to you why I ought not respect Mr. Flynn, I will explain why I still adore him:
I always look at the actors' eyes when
I'm watching movies [thank you Frank Capra and Barbara Stanwyck]; and I love
the fire in Errol's eyes when he's acting. Sadly (and I think this makes me
sadder than anything else) he lost that as time went by. Olivia de Havilland
recounted one occasion a few years before he died: "I had an unhappy experience in
Hollywood. A tall man kissed me on the back of the neck at a party and I
whirled around in anger and said, ‘Do I know you?’ Then I realized it was
Errol. He had changed so. His eyes were so sad. I had stared in them in enough
movies to know his spirit was gone.”
I think
Errol is terribly underrated where acting is concerned. It seems like everyone
remembers him as a handsome, charming movie star, but not so much the great
actor that I think he was. Bette Davis, who as far as I know disliked Errol
immensely, said "He was just beautiful…He himself openly said I don't
know really anything about acting, and I admire his honesty because he's
absolutely right." Olivia de Havilland says Bette changed her mind
when she actually saw their movie: “As Bette watched, she leaned farther and
farther forward in her seat, obviously fascinated. When the film ended, I
remember she said softly, ‘D**n! He’s good. No. He’s not good. He’s marvelous!
I was wrong all the time.” And not only was he good, but a hard worker, too
- both Maureen O'Hara and Henry King admit that.
I love the fact that he had a sense of humor (even if it got out of
hand on occasion, poor Olivia de Havilland and the darned snakes!). You
must all realize that I love people who do strange things - Carole and
Missy both gave out their share of pranks - and Errol Flynn is no
different. I think my favorite story is the one about his first meeting
Greer Garson. Upon being introduced to her he was scared to death,
after prepping himself with three drinks, he walked up to her, shook
hands, then slapped her rear end and said "Hiya, Red!". *Jaws dropped*.
But Greer Garson could take a joke, she started laughing hysterically
and from then on they were friends.
Another one of the
things I love about Errol is his excitement and vigor for living in general, misplaced as
it might have been. I can't help feeling that he was one of those lively people, tons of energy, places to go, people to meet, adventures to be had; but he spent all of it in pastimes unworthy of him which eventually led to his downfall. Remember two paragraphs ago when I quoted Olivia de Havilland saying that Errol had lost his spirit? I quote that only to point out that he did have spirit, and my beliefs are not completely unfounded. I think when you watch him on screen you can feel what I'm talking about. It's
like the restless oceans, the oceans he loved so much, and the sun and the
wind. It does what it pleases, like Errol did. When he was young he was a trouble-maker, he claimed to have held many various positions as a teen, some of them less likely than others, but according to him he did everything from fisherman to treasure hunter. All this, I think, stems from his adventurous tendencies and be it flighty and undependable I would've liked to be there (most of the time, anyway).
Ann Sheridan said: "He was one of the wild characters of the world, but he
had a strange, quiet side. He camouflaged himself completely. In all the years
I knew him, I never really knew what lay underneath and I doubt if many people
did." I think those things that lay under the surface were the things that made Earl Conrad describe Errol as "one of the most poetic men I have ever met" who could "describe trees and flowers and the wonders of the
ocean in the most beautiful language."I think he played a joke on the whole world, and on himself ("You once liked the blissful mobility, but
then you wonder, who's the real you? And who's the chap on the screen?"
he asked). He wasn't a Hollywood playboy, he was a pirate, descended from pirates, and I think he would've been happy doing exactly what he said he would've been happy doing. He said, "My dream of happiness: A quiet
spot by the Jamaica seashore, looking out at the activity of the ocean, hearing
the wind sob with the beauty and the tragedy of everything. Looking out over
nine miles of ocean, hearing some happy laughter nearby; sitting under an
almond tree, with the leaf spread over me like an umbrella, that is my dream of
happiness. Unfortunately, an hour later, I might not be happy with that."
And there Flynn himself mentions one of the tragedies of being Flynn, unfortunately an hour later he might not be happy with that. Another tragedy of Flynn was addressed by Greer Garson: "Unfortunately, he had little satisfaction in playing
these roles and felt frustrated by continually being typecast. What a pity he
couldn’t thoroughly enjoy playing the dashing hero, knowing he was nonpareil in
this field, and that he was able to make a unique contribution by bringing into
our careful, regimented world a bright flash of poetry-in-action and deeds of
derring-do." Olivia de Havilland also said “He was a charming and magnetic man, but so
tormented. I don’t know about what, but tormented.” I think Jack Warner just about summed it up when he described Errol as, "one of the most charming and tragic men I have ever met".
Henry King said: "Errol
Flynn was a joy, a lovely man, and most of the talk about him is nothing but rumor
by people who didn't even know him. He loved to talk about how much he could
drink and the women he'd made love to, but most of it was just the
rationalizations of a disappointed moralist." And Greer Garson had this to say about her 1949 co-star, "Surely no actor could
impersonate so splendidly Robin Hood, Don Juan, Captain Blood and the rest, unless
he had some of their potential within himself." See
that! Right there. Bolded. Italicized. Nine words. Greer believed it
too. The title of this post comes from a realization I made this morning while
racking my brain for an idea of what to say about this man - he was the last
real heroic pirate this world ever had. He was the last Robin Hood, the last Geoffrey Thorpe; and if we remember him for anything else it's because his nature was so rebellious it even rebelled against himself.
Errol said that he only intended to live half of his life that he didn't care about the rest, and that's exactly what he did. June 20, 1909 to October 14, 1959. Just fifty years. RIP my favorite rogue. The Last Pirate: Errol Flynn.
"I allow myself to be understood abroad as a colorful fragment in a drab world."
So, there we go. My post for the Gone Too Soon blogathon. Oh my gosh, what's wrong with me?! Anyway, go read the other posts, I've read a few of them already. Looks like it's going to be a swell thing.
Until Later On~
P.S. Directly after I had finished this post this morning I sent it to my ever-faithful BRLFF (Best Real-Life Friend Forever) and had her critique it (not that she does a lot of criticizing, I just say 'was it good?' and she says 'yes!!' with about 83 exclamation points, which would suggest to me that I ought to get a new critic, but what the heck). Anyway! I hadn't been able to get the pictures into my message when I copied the content for her and when I had actually posted it I told her to go look at the actual post and look at his beautiful face. She started laughing at me (over Facebook, I always get ridiculed over Facebook), but I insisted she go look at the pictures and when she had looked she said, "Oh, you weren't exaggerating. :) I thought you were just saying he was beautiful because you like him a lot. :)" and I responded "No, he's freaking gorgeous!" and she said "Just a LOT! :)". So, there we go, my laugh for the day, hopefully your laugh for the day. I love my friends.
I had already
seen two Norma Shearer movies when I started this - The Women from 1939 one of her best performances as far as I’ve
seen, and 1942’s Her Cardboard Lover,
not one of her best but one of my favorites nonetheless. This month I watched
seven new movies including her Oscar-winning performance in 1930’s The Divorcee, her Oscar-nominated turn
in A Free Soul (1931), and one of my
first silent movies 1928’s Lady of
Chance. 
