Racking his brain over what to do with eight loose acres up on Mulholland Drive, overlooking San Fernando Valley, Errol Flynn hit on an interesting idea. He will turn his property into a fancy rest camp, with eight guest cabins, three tennis courts and a dozen riding nags available for the nearby Hollywood folk in search of quick relaxation.
Happy Valley is where one could find Errol most every day in Hong Kong. “But those horrible little ponies wouldn’t behave,” as he put it in My Wicked, Wicked Ways. Originally opened in 1850 primarily for the British ex patriates, is today one of the premier horse race courses in the world.
When he wasn’t betting the ponies, it was a wicked good bet he was in the Hong Kong’s legendary red light district, where it was he and his companions that likely wouldn’t behave. In 1930, Hong Kong had 200 legal brothels with over 7,000 licensed prostitutes. Prostitution was outlawed, however, shortly after Errol’s visit. (Just a coincidence.) Below are Siu Sheung Fei and Fa Yuk Lan of the Tsui Lok Brothel in Hong Kong.
Errol Flynn and Lili Damita don’t intend to live all the time on the ranch where he expects to raise hogs. They are building a house -n the Laurel Canyon district. One of the most unusual houses in Hollywood, too, for it will be modeled after Flynn’s ancestral home in Belfast. Incidentally, did you know that Errol was not born in Ireland? It was New Zealand while his father and mother were on a scientific expedition.
Since Saturday, Warners is beseeching Errol Flynn to stay off horses except when the cameras are actually turning for The Charge of the Light Brigade. The Irish actor, not so long out of the hospital for an appendicitis operation, got the idea of practicing jumps for the picture. He went to a riding academy in the valley and was doing very nicely until the horse balked at a four-foot barrier and sent Flynn flying through the air. Landing, he missed a large rock by about an inch. The studio, which had 250 men ready to start to Lone Pine on location the next day, practically did a nipup when the news got around.
The most dramatic movie premier of 1936 took place not in Hollywood or in New York, but in Belfast Ireland when Captain Blood opened there the other day with Errol Flynn’s father and mother in attendance. They hadn’t seen him since 1932 and, suddenly, there he was on the screen, their turned into a movie star.
Reporting the incident, the Belfast papers also carried an interview with R. L. Simpson, who adventured with Flynn to New Guinea. He told a story about the actor that not even the studio knew.
Seems that a motion picture troupe hired Flynn to take them in a 20-ton schooner up the unexplored Sepik River, a stream infested with crocadiles and transversing jungles crawling with hostile natives. Sure enough, the troupe was ambushed and five of the police escorts were struck by poisoned arrows. Flynn and the crew were able to repel the attack with rifle fire and to get the troupe back to civilization.
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Superb video featuring multifarious primitive tribes and exotic cultures Flynn may have crossed paths with, if not crossed swords with, in Papua New Guinea – headhunters and cannibals included:
Police and humane society officers, as well as Tailwagger Foundation officials, today we’re investigating the latest case of “dognapping” in Hollywood.
Latest victim of the racket that has spread on so widely is Arno, a German Schnauzer belonging to Errol Flynn, film star.
Arno was lured into a black sedan just outside the gates of Warner Brothers Burbank studio yesterday.
Eldon Crowninshield, an electrician, saw the dog, which is well known on the movie lot, enter the car, but thought nothing more of it until Flynn reported to studio police that his dog was missing.
Paul Grossinger was also the man who conceived and arranged the matchless Flynn’s famous tennis match in Manhattan, at the legendary Park Avenue Armory, on February 1, 1945. Based on Farmers’ Almanac historical records, I ,believe it was on the low to mid 20° that day in New York, therefore explaining Errol’s coat. (I was in that Armory during a couple of winters in the mid-70s, and can attest that the area where Errol played tennis was damp, drafty and cold.)