RSS
 

The Swashbuckling Life of Errol Flynn

20 Apr

“The Adventures of Errol Flynn,” premiered on TCM on April 5, 2005, encoring two weeks later on April 19.

“Imbued with the same swashbuckling spirit as its subject matter, this Turner Classic Movies documentary qualifies as must-see TV for anyone weaned on the cinematic exploits of Errol Flynn, whose life on and off the screen makes for a great deal of fun.”

THE SWASHBUCKLING LIFE OF ERROL FLYNN

Washington Post
By Tom Shales

April 5, 2005

We may as well retire the word “dashing,” since nowadays it applies to nearly no one. The adjective fits icons and movie stars and royal personages who exist only in the past.

Of all the dashing figures to swing across the movie screen in Hollywood’s golden age, Errol Flynn has to have been the dashingest, at least among candidates from the sound era. He may not have cut a wide swath, exactly, but he cut a rambunctious one. He was one of the screen’s most magnificent rascals, wittily self-aware yet never self-adoring.

Turner Classic Movies pays jaunty and justifiable tribute to Flynn this month with a splendid 32-film Flynn festival, mostly movies made at Warner Bros. Studios, but shamefully omitting the 1943 Warner spectacle “Thank Your Lucky Stars,” in which Flynn sang and danced.

We’re all used to hearing that in real life, this or that performer had no resemblance to the image projected on the screen. But as the word “Adventures” in the title suggests, Flynn was larger-than-life whether on the screen or off it. He was determined not to bore or be bored, and he perhaps exhausted himself in that pursuit, dying at the age of 50 but looking much older.

Even the simplest details of Errol Flynn’s life seem exotic: He was born in Tasmania, of all places, in 1909, and just sort of stumbled into movies in 1933, when he played Fletcher Christian in the sea saga “In the Wake of the Bounty,” Australia’s first talkie.

Two years later, Flynn landed what couldn’t quite be called a plum role in a Hollywood film: He played an impeccable corpse in “The Case of the Curious Bride,” a Perry Mason mystery. There was, as the saying goes, nowhere to go but up, and Flynn went there with a string of swashbuckling, supremely entertaining classics, of which the most memorable and rousing was “The Adventures of Robin Hood” in 1938.

Flynn and the Technicolor tights fit each other so perfectly that one can only wonder what mogul Jack L. Warner had been thinking or drinking when, years earlier, he’d decreed that James Cagney, not Flynn, would be the perfect guy-in-green.

Many other versions of “Robin Hood” have been filmed in the years since, but nobody ever played Mr. Hood with greater gusto, charm and spirit, as the sumptuous clips make clear. According to the documentary, Flynn handled his own sword fighting in the film’s bravura duel with pernicious popinjay Basil Rathbone.

Olivia de Havilland made eight films with Flynn and still seems smitten, as when she recalls the impression he made when first they met on the set of “Captain Blood.”

“Ohhhhh, ohhhhh,” she murmurs, summoning her initial reaction with such enthusiasm she almost gets the vapors. “He is the handsomest, most charming, most magnetic, most virile young man in the entire world,” she says, and she was thus willing to forgive him anything, even the time he left a dead snake in one of the voluminous gowns she wore in “The Charge of the Light Brigade.”

Unfortunately, the documentary makes the error of attributing the still-thrilling eponymous charge that ends the movie to director Michael Curtiz, who directed several Flynn films, including most of this one. But the logistics and filming of the actual charge (intercut with quotations from Tennyson’s epic poem) were handled by B. Reeves “Breezy” Eason, the legendary action master whose credit was usually “second unit director.”

The mustache Flynn wore in “Charge” and most of his other action films added the perfect rakish touch to his appearance. Rakishness came naturally; so did a rebellious arrogance. Producer Hal B. Wallis (“Casablanca”) confirms the impression that Flynn gave studio bosses as many ulcers and migraines as he could: “He was the same likable rogue from the beginning right on through his career. He’d make these demands, he’d disappear, he’d come back to work and he would have the top brass at the studio apologizing to him!”

He loved sailing and playing tennis and, unfortunately, shooting up morphine. In very rare footage from 1955, we see Flynn lampooning himself on TV’s “Martha Raye Show.” His days as a lean, limber, devilishly handsome movie star were behind him, but he could even be irreverent about that. The producers begin the documentary with a priceless clip from “The Steve Allen Show,” satirizing “To Tell the Truth.” In this case, the announcer asked for “the real Errol Flynn” to stand up, and since the faux Flynns were a fatuously suave Louis Nye and a quivering Don Knotts, the genuine article was amusingly obvious.

There’s a poignancy to the clip, though, especially when one recalls that Flynn would be dead within a few years. He was long past his days of tights and tree-climbing, looking as though he had left his 40s behind several eons ago. The situation clearly inspired Richard Benjamin’s raucously evocative comedy “My Favorite Year,” which is about a fading old rake. Peter O’Toole, another of the last-of-the-dashers, appears to have nearly as high a time being Errol Flynn as Errol Flynn did.

Separating the actual from the mythic in Flynn’s life isn’t always easy — nor, arguably, at all necessary. J. Edgar Hoover, with typical perversity, started investigating Flynn early in the ’40s, and decades later, a biographer would scrounge up allegations that Flynn had loopy Nazi leanings all that time. In 1942, he faced an apparently trumped-up charge of statutory rape by two Hollywood party girls. Says Flynn’s daughter Deirdre, among many Flynn intimates interviewed: “My father never had to ‘rape’ anybody. Women chased him.”

“I have a zest for living,” Flynn himself once said, “yet twice an urge to die.” Die he did, on Oct. 14, 1959, a few years after giving a hauntingly dissipated performance in “The Sun Also Rises.”

Film of Flynn as himself, near life’s end, shows him looking wan and chubby, and yet some of the dash still survived, apparent in the wicked twinkle of his mischievous eyes.

There was no indication, on the other hand, that he suffered even a hint of regret. “I’ve loved it,” he said of his life, “every minute of it.” You may feel precisely the same way about watching “The Adventures of Errol Flynn.”

— Tim

 

Who Better Than Errol?

18 Apr

April 18, 1944

— Tim

 

Gentleman Flynn

18 Apr


GENTLEMAN FLYNN
THE FRONT ROW
NEW YORKER MAGAZINE | 2011

Transcript of “Richard Brody on Raoul Walsh’s “Gentleman Jim” (See Video in red link above.)

[Gentleman Jim’s manager, Billy Delaney/William Frawley] Hey, what’s the idea Choynski, where’s your boxing gloves?

[Joe Choynski’s Manager] He lost ’em, that’s what he did, He lost ’em

[Referee] Yeah, well he can’t fight with those.

[Billy Delaney] Aw, nix on that. We won’t fight you without regulation gloves.

[Errol/Gentleman Jim] Wait a minute. Wait a minute, Billy. He can use gloves, no gloves, bare knuckles. He can use a baseball bat if he wants. Let’s get started.

[Richard Brody] I’m Richard Brody and this clip is from Gentleman Jim, a 1942 film directed by Raoul Walsh. It’s a biopic about James J. Corbett, a late 19th century boxer who came
from a rough Irish immigrant family in San Francisco, and yet brought a new level of refinement and gentility to the sport of boxing.

[whistling]

It stars Errol Flynn as a young man with an exuberant excessive swagger. He starts out as a bank teller who had cultivated his pugilistic skills through family brawls and hasn’t yet had a chance to put them on public display. At the same time, he has social climbing ambitions and makes use of an unanticipated connection with an heiress to get himself introduced into the Olympic Club. There, he finally gets to show off his skills and become something of a local celebrity.

Walsh takes pleasure in the rough-hewn media
of illegal prize fighting. The movie is filled with a jaunty and exuberant rowdiness.

[John L. Sullivan] I’ll meet any man who will stand on his own two feet, and if you had about 30 pounds more on you, you’d be the first one sir.

[Errol] I’ll return the compliment Mr. Sullivan, if you’d fight me, I’d just wish you were five years younger.

[Sullivan] What do you mean by that?

[Errol]Not much fun winning the championship from a guy who’s practically tripping over his beard.

[Richard Brody] In this scene, Corbett is trying to get himself a match for the heavyweight title
with the great fighter, John L. Sullivan,a harsh, aggressive, somewhat crude Boston man
who was intensely proud and nearing the end of his career and had no intention of fighting the young peacock. ..But Corbett applies his non-boxing skills to find his way into the ring with him.

[Sullivan] Call the newspaper boys in. I’ll fight that blabbermouth anytime, anywhere.

[crowd cheers]

[Richard Brody] There’s something special about the character of Corbett. He seems peculiarly modern, in fact, even more modern than Walsh imagined. Unlike the other boxers he faces,
he isn’t just a brawler, he’s a dancer, he’s a master of fancy footwork. And with his fancy footwork comes high-flowing verbiage, the ability to use taunting to get under his opponent’s skin and, with his confection of his public image and his careful attention to his appearance, Corbett seems nothing less
than a precursor to Mohammad Ali.

[boxing bell rings]

[crowd cheers]

— Tim

 

Signature Flynn

17 Apr

The New Yorker
April 18, 2005

IN LIKE FLYNN

No film star ever bettered Errol Flynn in tights, but he was the soul of insouciance even when he wore a cavalry uniform or bluejeans. That’s the revelation of “Errol Flynn: The Signature Collection” (Warner Home Video), which features the athletic, rakish star not just as an inspired Sir Francis Drake take-off in the vivid “The Sea Hawk” (1940) and as an uncharacteristically stiff Earl of Essex in “The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex” (1939) but also as a gallant General George A. Custer in “They Died with Their Boots On” (1941) and as a gritty frontier sheriff in the colorful Western potboiler “Dodge City” (1939). The set includes a surprisingly frank biographical portrait, “The Adventures of Errol Flynn.”

But the key film in the set is the sweeping, ebullient swashbuckler “Captain Blood” (1935). Three years before he became the most dashing Robin Hood yet (in “The Adventures of Robin Hood,” available on a separate Warner DVD), the young Australian actor, in his Hollywood breakthrough, proved his panache at righting wrongs. In this film, based on Rafael Sabatini’s 1922 novel about seventeenth-century pirates of the Caribbean and directed by Michael Curtiz, Flynn is Peter Blood, a peaceful doctor who makes the mistake of treating a rebel during the tumultuous reign of King James II and ends up a slave in Jamaica. The ravishing Olivia de Havilland (Flynn’s frequent co-star) plays the feisty, sympathetic niece of the tyrannical British slave owner; Blood and a barracksful of enslaved rebels (good men all) make their escape by stealing a Spanish ship and becoming buccaneers.

Flynn combined aristocratic dash with rebel flair—in “Captain Blood,” he defies the ruling order with absolute confidence. At one point, de Havilland says, “I believe you’re talking treason.” Flynn replies, “I hope I’m not obscure.” (This exchange has a close echo in “Robin Hood,” when de Havilland exclaims, “You speak treason!” and Flynn responds, “Fluently.”) In his autobiography, “My Wicked, Wicked Ways,” Flynn wrote that “youthful and virile roles” like cowboys and swordsmen “require gusto and genuine interest—such as I had felt at the time I was making ‘Captain Blood’ and ‘Robin Hood.’ ” He’s right: in these movies, his exuberance irradiates the screen.

— Tim

 

Virtual Visit to the Garden of Allah! — Tomorrow! Saturday, April 17, 2021

17 Apr

TALES FROM THE GARDEN OF ALLAH

Saturday, April 17, 2021
1:30 PM – 3:00 PM Eastern/10:30 – 2:00 PM Pacific.

$20

— Tim

 

Mail Bag! My Favorite Year: “That reminds me of a story …”

17 Apr

 

Karl Holmberg writes:

That reminds me of a story…
 
You see on TCM now how Robert Osborne really began something … a few years back he got Errol’s name to start being mentioned among the NOTABLE actors of all time in those TCM filler segments between film showings, and it has progressed to Robin Hood clips (and others) shown among the old classic film montages… and even included, another more recent effort- with a fellow named O’Toole.
 
And speaking of which, I encountered a 2016 review of My Favorite Year the other day in which, among other things, recounted the 1997 interview with Mel Brooks and his experience with Errol Flynn on Your Show of Shows. And how THIS encounter became the ultimate seed for a film adaptation.
 
On the surface, this real life situation as inspiration is certainly plausible, but we’re talking about Mel Brooks here and so, share with you ANOTHER of his “stories” for your consideration and … to make a point:
 
“I was a corporal in World War II. One day, I took eight guys out on a scouting mission, and we found a box of German rifles. Nearby, there were telephone polls with the ceramic insulators at the top. So I say, “A buck a piece—whoever can knock off the most insulators gets the pot.” We grab the rifles and start shooting. Somebody from Arkansas—they know how to do it—knocked off all of them and gets the nine bucks. When we get back to our base, sirens are going off. Everybody’s running around. I see my sergeant and ask what’s going on. He says, “Communications have been cut off between the 7th Army and the 26th Corps. All the telephone lines are down. We think there are snipers and we’re getting a patrol together to find them.” Now, I’m a little scared. I know exactly who’s at fault. So I said, “Okay, count me in.” And out I went again. We never did find them.
 
It just got me to thinking that maybe there was STILL another story, and how I ultimately came to find out that My Favorite Year maybe had some “additional” background. 
 
(You see, the details in history OF A TIME shapes art but, with time, tends to recede into the background and though what’s left is still a beautiful stand alone, it’s not ALL of it.)
 
The REEL story behind the making of My Favorite Year is of an entirely different effort to put it bluntly- it’s a defense of Flynn’s “la mémoire collective” in RESPONSE to Errol Flynn: The Untold Story.
 
Add to this premise, the idea that Mel helmed the project in a surreptitious fashion such that I really don’t think any one person (other than himself) FULLY grasped his commitment to making a particular film, in a particular way, with a particular end, and without even the seeming desire for any sort of credit. Witness the only mention, in the VERY beginning … and look fast cause you just might miss the mention of “Brooksfilms Ltd.” in the opening credits.
 
And finally, throw into this mix some additional “flavorings” and, you have a tale that is of its time, “characters” who are reasonably familiar (yet also litigiously remote where applicable), and “borrowings” of places and people.
 
Penned in 2006 with references that may not all “link” up with contemporary sites of the day, I give you…
.

 

The Reel Story Behind My Favorite Year

– Dedicated to Clarence Duffy, Benjamin Steinberg, and K. T. Hunter –

By Karl Holmberg

FADE IN:

My Favorite Year is an open love letter to both early television and, more importantly, to Errol Flynn- Mel Brooks style 1. It is also a coming of age film, as involves the main character , Benjy Stone, of the film. But it is to the particular focus on Errol Flynn that I turn my attention, in an attempt to provide an explanation of some kind- one that we’d all been on the trail of for years!

What we did know, from the opening moments of the film, is that My Favorite Year takes place in New York City, N.Y., at the NBC Studios, located at Rockefeller Center, or “30 Rock”- and begins on December 3, 1954 2. What we also know, from a Mel Brooks interview, is the name of the REAL tv show appearance on which the factious one was based. Equipped with these “so-called” facts, I’d been down to the Museum of Television and Radio 3 to see if the Flynn appearance on Your Show of Shows was there … and found nothing. That was a dead end.

Later, checking an archive for Your Show of Shows revealed that it had a run from February 25, 1950 until June 5, 1954. (In case you are wondering, Faye Emerson, a Flynn film alumnus, was the last celebrity guest). What followed this was a DIFFERENT show called Caesar’s Hour which premiered on September 27, 1954- so no match with the above date and show name. Therefore, to reference a date beyond the series end, was a clue- but also, another dead end.

And so it went.

Bits of information came slowly, over the years, and you will see excerpts from these various sources. You will also need some background. There is a reference to The Martha Raye Show. Flynn made 2 appearances and they took place on June 7, 1955 (see synopsis below) and January 3, 1956. I think the former appearance (1955) is the relevent one, because of a “Pirate Story” sequence. However, I must state that I have not seen the other. There was also a January 6, 1957 appearance on The Steve Allen Show in which Flynn and Steve have a sword fight. In the case of the Allen show, I have seen ONLY the sword fight clip itself.

Further, there is the thought that My Favorite Year may well be a composite of IDEAS, actually, from BOTH of these (Raye and Allen) appearances.

And finally, there will also be an attempt to bring it all together, including the speculation that Mel Brooks had a SPECIAL agenda. But let’s begin with picking up some more of the trail.

LONG SHOT:

First of all, here’s what Mel Brooks, in 1997, said PUBLICLY 4:

Jeffrey Howard: How close was the movie My Favorite Year [1982] in capturing the atmosphere of Your Show Of Shows? 

Mel Brooks: Pretty damn close. My company made it Brooksfilm and I made sure that we were telling the truth. I was locked in the Waldorf Towers with Errol Flynn and two red-headed, Cuban sisters. For three days I was trying to get them out of there and he was trying to get me drunk and in there. It was the craziest weekend of my life. I was 20 years old and just starting with The Show Of Shows. He was a tough guy to corral and get to rehearsals. Max Liebman assigned me to him and said, “Get him into rehearsal! Make him learn his lines! Work with him on the sketch!” Errol Flynn was a raving maniac. All he wanted was booze and to fool around. He did learn the sketch. Actually, I whispered into his ear when he was asleep. I’d say all the lines and unconsciously, I knew it would get through to his head. 

JH: Were you the character of Herb? 

MB: No! I was Benjy. I was the young kid who had to take care of Errol Flynn, but we didn’t call him Errol Flynn, we called him Alan Swann and we got Peter O’Toole to play him.“ 

Now, contrast this, with what Brooks said in 1982, PRIVATELY, as related in a review of 2002 5:

“Richard Benjamin’s delightful audio commentary to the DVD of his first movie, My Favorite Year 6 , overflows with insights about his actors … Benjamin only breezes through the genesis of this Brooksfilm Limited production—so here it is, as Mel Brooks related it to me in 1982. When a young writer named Dennis Palumbo approached producer Michael Gruskoff with a story about Doc Holliday’s coming to Manhattan to publish a novel and having his ghostwriter squire him around town, Gruskoff had a stroke of inspiration. He said he wasn’t that interested in Doc Holliday or in New York publishing at the turn of the century, but he was interested in Errol Flynn and such live TV comedy series as Sid Caesar’s Your Show of Shows . At the time, Gruskoff didn’t know that in the mid-’50s, when Flynn was still an alcohol-fueled hell-raiser but past his prime and paunchy, he’d guest-starred on The Martha Raye Show .

All Gruskoff knew was that Flynn and Caesar set off sparks in his imagination. Gruskoff set up a meeting with Palumbo and Mel Brooks, for whom he’d produced Young Frankenstein. And Brooks, with his knowledge of the milieu—he’d started out writing for Caesar—agreed to be Gruskoff’s partner and suggested Norman Steinberg (who’d co-written Brooks’ Blazing Saddles ) to do the rewrite. They put actor-turned-director Benjamin at the helm, assembled a cast led by Peter O’Toole as the Flynn character and Joseph Bologna as the Caesar character, and the result, as they say, is “show biz history”—or at least, an immensely human and enjoyable comedy. My Favorite Year is a movie that rises—and sometimes soars—on the beauty of its central idea and on the loving, intelligent way it’s been fleshed out.”

And finally, consider this further CONTEXTUAL background 7:

“Actor Errol Flynn’s off-screen personality was notoriously legendary. Flynn was often depicted as a drunkard with an extremely active sex life (with accusations that ranged from homosexuality to statutory rape), who was consciously destructing himself. In spite of this notorious behavior, there was something about Flynn, most probably his lack of remorse about the way he led his life, that compelled empathy. 

This empathy came to a halt around 1980, with the publication of Charles Higham’s “Errol Flynn: The Untold Story”. Higham added another element to the Flynn legend: Backed with evidence from official sources, Higham claimed that Errol Flynn had been an active Nazi spy in the United States. This led to generalized disgust for the actor, his films allegedly disappeared from television, and to even mention Errol Flynn became taboo. In the following decade, Higham’s book would be proved a fraud, but the damage had been done, and Flynn’s best features never seemed to return to their previous level of popularity. 

This was the context in which My Favorite Year (1982), Richard Benjamin’s directorial debut, a film which was an obvious parody of Errol Flynn, came out. It made no mention whatsoever of Higham’s controversial claims, as the film was a comedy, mainly about Flynn’s acquaintance with the bottle, but also a nostalgic portrait of television during its “golden age”, the 1950’s. The film was phenomenally popular, earned actor Peter O’Toole a seventh Oscar nomination as best actor (but unfortunately, a seventh loss) and was later turned into a successful musical. 

In 1954, television was live and comedy was king’, explains Benjy Stone (Mark Linn-Baker), the narrator of the film. In 1954, Stone, modelled on Mel Brooks, was a junior writer for a weekly NBC television show named “King Kaiser’s Comedy Cavalcade”, modelled on Sid Caesar’s “Your Show of Shows”. The guest star for the upcoming episode is supposed to be Alan Swann (Peter O’Toole), a matinee idol best remembered for his swashbuckling films such as “Swords of Glory”, “Defender of the Crown”, “Captain from Tortuga”, and “Rapture”, but who had later turned into a drunken has-been with his days of glory long behind him, with no film prospects ahead of him, and who in fact was threatened with deportation if he did not find a source of revenue, thus the reason for his accepting a guest presence on the show.”

MEDIUM SHOT:

It is curious that Brooks was still perpetuating the SAME STORY as his film depicted, PUBLICLY, in the 1997 interview … but then again, maybe not so strange.

Second, I would like to highlight PARTS of some key sentences from the other interview (of 1982, and PRIVATELY told) with Brooks: “Dennis Palumbo approached producer Michael Gruskoff“ and “Gruskoff didn’t know that in the mid-50s … when Flynn … guest-starred on The Martha Raye Show “, and “Brooks, with his knowledge of the milieu … agreed to be Gruskoff’s partner”.

And third, I think Richard Benjamin, in the aforementioned audio commentary (it was the reviewer who quoted what Brooks said, NOT BENJAMIN) provides, perhaps, the MOST CREDIBLE information of all. And since what Benjamin said didn’t make it into print, I will paraphrase it here: that it was Gruskoff, who approached Brooks with another story, that Brooks wasn’t interested, but that he WAS interested in the appearance of an aging movie star appearing on Your Show of Shows. And sprinkled throughout the rest of Benjamin’s “annotations” was that Brooks had input into the film.

I think it was even MORE than that: Brooks had a PLAN.

Now, are you beginning to get the idea that no matter what he says, Brooks was always attempting to throw people off and send them in another direction? For example, Brooks said that Gruskoff didn’t know Errol Flynn appeared on The Martha RayeShow … but what’s that got to do with anything when it was Mel Brooks’ ORIGINAL idea in the first place, and he DID! It’s not about Gruskoff, and his running the show, but about BROOKS, and his MORE THAN “Executive Producer” involvement!

THE REST of this story fell into place for me with the above Brooks ANECDOTAL interview that came to light in 2002, and then listening CAREFULLY to Richard Benjamin. It was SO CLEAR that Brooks had to have had major CREATIVE input: ”his re-direction of the proposed film project“, “his knowledge of the milieu”, Brooks own “handpicked” writer Norman Steinberg, and Benjamin’s own occasional mentioning’s of Brooks throughout his commentary. And, finally, that it was Brooks WHO KNEW about Flynn’s “Martha Raye Show” appearance- but even that, I will argue, is something of another “false lead” in a way.

Following this so far?

Aside from the MORE THAN obvious Your Show of Shows parallel, there is ALSO the CRYPTICALLY acknowledged “Martha Raye Show“ as an idea of (some?) inspiration. But, as far as this “influence” is concerned, there are only VERY general parallels: the pirate fight scene idea of the Raye Show in the grand finale of My Favorite Year, and when Benjy carries a life size card board cut out of Alan Swann in the early scenes of My Favorite Year- an OBVIOUS borrowing of the “cardboard cut out idea” used in the credits of the Raye’s “Captain Flood On The Spanish Main” skit. That’s about it.

THERE IS NOT a clear delineation of good triumphing over evil in the Raye Show. Also, the fact that the Swann segment of My Favorite Year was to be a “Three Musketeers” skit complete with PLUMED HATS, whereas Raye’s was about pirates. And even Flynn’s “winning”, in this same “Pirate” vignette, somehow anti-climatic.

So it only begs the question: where did the further ideas come from for My Favorite Year ? They could have been thought up, but I put to you this possibility- that the “seed” for at least a PART of this other creative thinking CAME from somewhere else … ANOTHER Flynn live tv show appearance perhaps?


I NOW introduce “the sword fight” segment from
The Steve Allen Show where the subtext is of an aging, fading star of a questionably older medium “going up against” a younger, blazing star of a newer one. (I will elaborate on this Allen connection after it has been more fully described). Now THIS delivers some familiar ideas that are a crowning inspiration for a major plot line to the film, and adds something NEW to the story about the film’s making. Namely, THE IDEA that a composite of TWO REAL television appearances lent themselves to the basic storyline of My Favorite Year and cloaked in the guise of a Your Show of Shows setting. PLUS, re-creations of classic (Flynn) film scenes, along with some other “borrowings” from Barrymore, Niven, and even a few true details from Flynn’s own life- not to mention, the WONDERFUL imagination of assembling it all together.

Anyway, back to the Allen appearance. The clip from The Steve Allen Show, included in the documentary A & E’s “It’s Only Talk: The Real Story of America’s Talk Shows”, has an appropriate introduction that underscores, rather UNAMBIGUOUSLY, one point of view (or was it possibly, an unconscious borrowing?) and goes like this: “Carson and all these guys have stolen from him (Allen) like crazy.” Then, roll footage:

Errol Flynn, with drawn sword, is waiting in the foreground of a room (much like the Inn in Adventures of Don Juan). He’s looking about cautiously. Suddenly, from a corner of the room at the top of a staircase, a door swings open, and in steps Steve Allen. They are both wearing the same clothes: white shirt, black pants, and plumed hat. But wait, there IS a difference! Steve’s wearing a black hat and Errol a white. (My Favorite Year has Alan Swann in a similar style hat).

Steve cries out, as if in challenge: “Errol Flynn”.

And Flynn answers weakly: “Steve Allen”.

Steve leaps from the staircase, catching hold of a chandelier, swings to the floor, and immediately draws his sword. Steve is the aggressor; Errol startled and seemingly unsure. They begin their duel. Steve fences boldly, though backing up, while Errol is tentative and moving forward. They do a Flynn/Rathbone like banter (as in Adventures of Robin Hood).

Steve begins: “Errol, it’s wonderful to see ya. I understand you’ve been doing quite a bit of traveling lately.”

Errol responds: “Well, yes Steve I have, actually I’ve been in Spain, you know.”

Suddenly, Errol comes alive, and picks up both his pace and technique, and then … knocks Steve’s sword from his hand.

End of clip.

Now, in the sword fight sequence just described, one can recognize some familiar additional elements of the My Favorite Year story. There is the, already mentioned, fading/new star idea, the similarity of attire, particularly the hat, the swinging in from the balcony of Swann (just as Allen did), and the inescapable parallel, in feeling, that it’s not going to be the “white hat” Flynn’s finest moment on television- but then “of a sudden’, the situation turns around and the “black hat”, Allen (Boss Rojeck, as represented by his thugs), is vanquished. Good triumphs over evil, just once more, as in My Favorite Year. It’s a little, almost insignificant moment on television, but this “Alan Swann”, like a Phoenix from the ashes- rises to the occasion as well, just once more.

In talking with a Mel Brooks fan, he spoke to me about another side of the man- that he is NOT JUST as he seems nor creates. And it gave me a new perspective. In thinking about ALL THE ABOVE, it is clear to me now that My Favorite Year was a DELIBERATE act of coming to Errol’s defense. To wit: by creating a fiction as reality (just as Higham), and putting out an even MORE POWERFUL mythic story ABOUT FLYNN into a movie that doesn’t mention him by name, winds up making “a big joke” out of the Nazi / bi-sexual allegations, and putting Flynn BACK into an UNDERSTANDABLE context- all without ever ARGUING a single point.

But Mel will never tell …

All pretty speculative, huh?

Ah, but to remind you of a FURTHER point of information- Higham’s book first came out in January 1, 1980 (and it took only a short while for the GENERAL public to become aware of its sensational contents- THIS fraudulent fiction passing, then, as bona fide biography) and My Favorite Year (final script: September 4, 1981) opened on October 1,1982. A scant 24 months between the first publication of the former, and the premier of the latter. Pretty close in time, all things considered, don’t you think?

I say we have Mel Brooks, the UNCREDITED Executive Producer (Brooks Films Limited being the only HINT at an “official” credit- and listed FIRST) to thank for putting the FACT back into the myth and ALSO producing a wonderful movie at the same time. There were others creatively involved, but make no mistake- it was because of HIM that this film was made, and made the way he wanted it made. REMEMBER, he turned enthusiasm for one ENTIRELY DIFFERENT film idea into enthusiasm for ANOTHER and it was taken in HIS direction, for HIS purposes … and did he succeed?

The final spoken line of Alan Swann provides a possible answer. Swann returns to inside the building of “30 Rock” after initially fleeing when he learns, for the first time, that the program is a LIVE TELEVISION BROADCAST! He encounters Benjy in a hall of the building. And in a most touching moment, Swann admits his fear. Benjy appeals to Swann, and in the process, shifts from his boyhood idolatry (as evidenced throughout the film) into a rousing, impassioned, and ultimately inspiring speech as more befits that of one man (hence, a part of the idea behind title of the film) speaking to another:

Alan Swann afraid? … Whoever you were in those movies, those silly god-damned heroes- meant a lot to me. What does it matter if it was an illusion- it worked! So don’t tell me this is you life-size. I can’t use you life- size. I need Alan Swanns as big as I can get them. And let me tell you something, you couldn’t of convinced me the way you did unless somewhere in you, you had that courage. Nobody’s that good an actor. You are that silly God damn hero.”

Benjy exits. You next see Benjy in the stage lighting balcony, and he is seeing what everyone else is- the thugs of Boss Rojeck prevailing, in a general free for all, with Kaiser and his cast. Suddenly, Alan Swann appears on the balcony also. He sees his Three Musketeers skit compatriot in trouble and cries out his name. And there is a certain “something” familiar, and yet not so, about this name. Also, there is, in this one word utterance, both a quality that acknowledges his coming to the aid his friend, and that somehow involves himself as well. And what is this name? Well, when Swann says it, it sounds like “Porthold” as I hear it (one of the true names of a Three Musketeers character is ACTUALLY Porthos).

This is a high point- and the whole point really, of this film. In this VERY moment, Swann has not only found the courage to appear on live television, and further, rescue his friend in need, BUT, at this point in this more than CINEMATICALLY argued case, also PUBLICLY ANNOUNCES the re-claiming of his legacy: “Porthole”. 8

Remember, the TRUE deliverer of this message: MEL BROOKS.

Put aside your suppositions and presuppositions about Mel Brooks. THINK ABOUT IT …

I can almost hear now, faintly, IN MY OWN IMAGINATION, a part of a familiar tune- only the words are a bit different. And from the far off distance, it suddenly looms forward- and is now heard:

Springtime for Errol and honesty, winter for Higham and lies ”. 9

One kind of a man in public; another kind elsewhere; and then STILL another …

OH YES- and by the way, Mel Brooks succeeded in HIS AGENDA- at least for me.

For a FINAL ending (and something completely overlooked in this analysis) I will give Peter O’Toole the last word.

O’Toole, asked where he put My Favorite Year, within his TOTAL body of work, responded: “Highly”.

“Why?” asked the interviewer Charlie Rose.

(Because it’s) “funny.” 10

CLOSE UP:

Some minor points, further explained. The question mark, at the very beginning, is both a play on the title of this writing, and a variation on the Flynn “squarish” question mark as described in both My Wicked, Wicked Ways and the second Conrad book about Flynn 11. Clarence Duffy and Benjamin Steinberg are the reel, “real” names of Alan Swann and Benjy Stone. Kathryn (K. T.) Hunter is a friend, a Flynn birth day sharer, and someone who has recently had a “coming of age” herself, so to speak. The famous Barrymore line, often attributed to Flynn, is used as a part of Swann’s scene of “this is for ladies only” 12. Niven’s oft-quoted remark about how “he always let you down” 13 was also used. English Repertory 14, the place Flynn first began his acting career, is also referenced, as is The Stork Club, a NYC night spot, where Flynn may well have gotten into a “little” trouble 15. Finally, the movie steered WAY far away from any sort of CLEAR parallel to son, Sean, and Palm Beach, where Sean and his mother, Lili Damita, lived at the time (1954) of My Favorite Year, (because of the still very much ALIVE, in 1982, “Litigious Lil”?) and moved up the coast to a “safer“ Connecticut and a daughter named Tess. And finally …

this story would not have come out into the light and beyond the darkness of a theater- sans the active and helpful discussion with the following people: Lincoln Hurst, David DeWitt, Brian Twist, and Ralph Schiller– along with some good old fashioned physical and etherical “shoe leather”. And also, a special acknowledgement to Shannon Semler– who made the Martha Raye program available for viewing:

Martha Raye Show Synopsis:

On the Martha Raye Show of 06/7/55, Martha (Raye, obviously) and Artie (a girl shy grocer played by Errol Flynn), are sitting on a park bench. Martha wants to be kissed but Artie is slow to catch on. She suggests that he act, like in a movie, where she’s been away for a long time and he’s missed her. This instruction arouses the inner (acting only) man. She stops the progression.

She now suggests a goodbye scene and he cooperates by “acting” even more passionately. Afterwards, Artie is still un-phased by it all (because to him it was ALL acting) while Martha, overcome by all this concentrated kissing, stretches out on a park bench, and says: ” I don’t want to remember as you are, I want to remember as you were: my movie hero.” And abruptly passes out.

As the camera goes out of focus and then back in again, a movie begins. The titles say “Captain Flood on the Spanish Main” and “Starring My Movie Hero”. A narration picks up explaining: ”Early in the 18th century, the waters between Europe and the New World were plagued by bands of marauding pirates …” As the narration continues, a line of “live” pirates are shown, one by one, moving off screen until … “but the most terrible of them all was the infamous Captain Flood.” A life size cardboard cut out picture of Captain Flood (Errol Flynn) is shown.

The visual story is done as a silent film, with appropriate music, broad gestures, accompanying voice narration and occasional dialogue. It opens with Spanish Lords and Ladies (the good guys), dancing on the deck of the Spanish ship, Santa Ana, when all of a sudden, Pirates (the bad guys) come aboard. A fight ensues and both Lords and Ladies go over the side. Flood appears near the end of the skirmish, off to one side (and his costume is in the manner of the classic buccaneer). The pirates are victorious.

Flood speaks: “Show them no mercy men- this is Captain Flood.” He swaggers, in an exaggerated manner, moving about the deck., and then speaks again: “To your feet lubbers.” The Lords now beg aloud for mercy, but Flood declares: “To the sharks with them!” One by one they are thrown over as a back spray follows each of them. As the pirates and Flood look over the side, as the last one goes in, there’s at first the expected spray, but then Flood is hit in the face with an errant, delayed splash.

Suddenly two screaming women, in petticoats, followed by a screaming pirate, emerge from behind a door. Then, an elegantly dressed lady appears announcing: “That will teach you to trifle with Dona Martha (Raye, again), the Queen of Castile.”

Back now to “silent mode” as Dona Martha moves about the deck, walks among the pirates, pausing in front of each, and each in turn, faints- either from her (implied) stunning beauty or debilitating ugliness? She comes to Captain Flood, and she faints, then recovers , and faints again! She comes to but is still weak, and has to be held up by two pirates, as Flood woes her. She’s then carried off, with Flood leading, to another part of the ship for a dalliance.

As Flood is dallying, “Rocky” (Marciano, former Middleweight Boxing Champion, and show regular), the hook-handed first mate, plots a mutiny, still “silently”, with his fellow pirates against Flood. The pirates then respond to the plan with various pirate-like “grunts” of agreement that can now be heard and, when Rocky scratches his throat with his hook , he says so out loud in a child-like manner. Then they all break into a jazzy chorus of “Fifteen Men ”.

Fade out and back in to the final stretch and “unspoken” silence again, where Flood and Dona Martha, gesture at talking among themselves and relaxing against the mast as the mutineers surround them. (Flood now becomes the sole “good guy” to the pirate’s continued “bad guys” role). Flood springs into action, moving Dona Martha to various points of safety as he, single handedly, fights off the crew. It is a well choreographed, slapstick style of confusion and acrobatics, including Flynn dropping his sword and catching it on a bounce (and similar to the My Favorite Year fight scene). At one point, Flood even seems to have stabbed Dona Martha, only she continues moving about. Finally, it comes down to Rocky and his hook against Flood and his sword. As the brief fight unfolds, Dona Martha weaves in and out of the engagement. At one point, Martha even causes them all to link arms and turn about in circular fashion. They all finally break from this entanglement, Flood prevails, and as Rocky staggers, Dona Martha finally HELPS- shouldering him over the side.

Flood and Dona Martha embrace. End of story. (Flynn is clearly tired and winded by skit’s end).

MACRO:

1 Professor Lincoln D. Hurst, PhD, in a 2004 “Friends of Errol Flynn Group” posting, relates the following story: “About three years ago Deirdre Flynn ran into Anne and her husband, Mel Brooks, at the Santa Anita race track. Deirdre said to him, “Oh, so my father had it coming, did he?” She was referring to Brooks’ film “Men In Tights,” for which the ad campaign went, “The Legend Had It Coming.” Brooks said, “Uh, excuse me, but who in the hell are you?” She then told him, and he literally fell to the ground, mortified, and while still on his back screamed, “Oh my God! My God, Deirdre, I LOVE your father! Didn’t you know that was meant as a loving tribute to him?”

2 The Daily Mirror, a front page headline, in one of the early scenes of the film, reads: “Joe Blows It”. This headline, as best as I can make out, refers to an event which took place on December 2, 1954 in which the U.S. Senate voted to condemn Senator Joseph R. McCarthy for conduct unbecoming of a senator. This condemnation, which was equivalent to a censure, related to McCarthy’s controversial investigation of suspected communists in the U.S. government, military, and civilian society.

3 The Museum of Television and Radio, 25 West 52nd Street, New York, N.Y. From the website description: “It has over 120,000 programs and advertisements, covering more than eighty-five years of television and radio history (beginning with a 1918 speech by labor leader Samuel Gompers). The collection spans all genres: comedy, drama, news, public affairs, performing arts, children’s, sports, reality, animation, and documentary, and includes a significant international presence, with seven thousand assets from seventy countries. The same collection is available in both New York and Los Angeles.” And “It is a curated collection. Programs have been selected on the basis of artistic achievement, social impact, or historic significance.”

4 Jeffrey K. Howard, “Lost Issue Wednesday: Mel Brooks Interview”, 1997, internet source: www.filmscoremonthly.com…

5 Michael Sragow, “Review (the DVD release) of My Favorite Year”, October, 2002, was, at one time, available on an internet source called the AV Guide site through this link: www.avguide.com… . I could not find an updated link. A professional reviewer, Michael Sragow has been a film critic for publications in Los Angeles, San Francisco, Boston and Seattle. He has been a staff writer for The New Yorker and Rolling Stone, and has had articles in several top publications. He went to the Baltimore Sun in 2001 from Salon.com…, and more recently, to the Orange County (California) Register. Editor of several books and author of Victor Fleming: American Movie Master.

6 My Favorite Year, Warner Home Video, 2002 (DVD). Runtime: 92 minutes. Plus Richard Benjamin audio commentary.

7 Alexandre Paquin, “Review of My Favorite Year”, 7/30/01, (from Montreal, Canada) originally on Epinions.com…, internet source: www.epinions.com… (this link is no longer accessible), but the review, itself, has survived and moved over to Efilm Critic: efilmcritic.com…

8 The association of “porthole” is in connection with the statutory rape trial- and a MAJOR turning point in Flynn’s life. It was a part of the testimony of one of the accusing women who claimed to have seen the moon, through the Sirocco cabin porthole, around the time of the alleged rape. This “association” captured the imagination of the public in 1943- and even beyond. So much so, in fact, that in his final public appearance, of 9/29/59, Flynn references “porthole” in the course of a comedic skit. Besides the writer, THIS FINAL FROLICKING moment did not escape the attention of Brooks either, in his MOST MAGNANIMOUS effort to reset the Flynn legend BACK to this VERY point- and BEFORE the Higham book.

9 Karl Holmberg, his own “ironical” variation on a part of the chorus of the song : ”Springtime For Hitler”, from the Mel Brooks film, The Producers, 1968.

10 Peter O’Toole, as quoted from his appearance on The Charlie Rose Show, PBS, 12/19/00.

11 Earl Conrad, Errol Flynn: A Memoir. Dodd, Mead & Co., 1978, p. 10.

12 Margot Peters, House of Barrymore. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1990, p. 593

13 David Niven, Bring On The Empty Horses. New York: Dell Publishing Co., 1975, p. 112

14 Errol Flynn (with Earl Conrad, UNCREDITED ghostwriter), My Wicked, Wicked Ways, New York: Dutton, 1959, pp. 181-187.

15The Los Angeles Daily News, one of the front page headlines: “N.Y. nightspots warn Bogart, Flynn”, and part of the text reads: “… they will be given the “bums rush” the next time they enter a New York restaurant or nightclub to ‘get stiff and raise hell’, the Society of Restaurateurs said today…”, 11/10/49.

FADE OUT:

— David DeWitt

 
 

Hollywood — April 16, 1944

16 Apr

Photo above taken in 1936 at the Los Angeles Tennis Club

— Tim

 

Who Said Tax Law is Boring? Not When It Involves Errol Flynn!

16 Apr

Quoting a British court in a 1968 “income tax and death duties” case regarding the issue of where Errol’s official domicile was at the time of his death:

“Errol Flynn was a film actor whose performances gave pleasure to many millions. On 20th June 1909 he was born in Hobart, Tasmania; and on 14th October 1959 he died in Vancouver, Canada. When he was seventeen years old he was expelled from school in Sydney and in the next thirty three years he lived a life which was full, lusty, restless and colourful. In his career, in his three marriages, in his friendships, in his quarrels, and in bed with the many, many women he took there, he lived with zest and irregularity. The lives of film stars are not cast in the ordinary mould; and in some respects Errol Flynn’s was more stellar than most. When he died, he posed the only question that I have to decide. Where was he domiciled at the time of his death? At one time he was undoubtedly domiciled in California. Hollywood has never been deficient in what was then, as always, one of Errol’s great interests in life, namely, a generous pool of available pulchritude. Yet even though as a sexual athlete Errol Flynn may in truth have achieved Olympic standards, time brings changes to all.”
_______

Quoting an international tax and accounting expert regarding this unique decision:

“Many pages later in the judgment, after much personal and geographical biography, the answer came: when he died, Errol Flynn was domiciled in Jamaica, which was a tax haven for the rich and famous. Who said that tax law is boring?”

— Tim

 
2 Comments

Posted in Main Page

 

Tax Time

15 Apr

April 15th being the traditional last day for filing income tax forms, here are Errol’s from 1953

Quoting WorthPoint:

“Errol Flynn signed tax payers copy of his 1953 Federal Income Tax return form 1040 with supporting schedules. This incredible document has significant content as the schedules gives us a glimpse into the life and finances of Errol Flynn during this period. It refers to his wife and lists his dependent children as well as his address in Italy. The included schedules also refer to the profit and loss on his investments such as his Titchfield Hotel , Navy Island , cattle, plantation and his acting expenses . He also deducts $ 20,666 for theft by his business manager. He reports a large sum of income from sale of stock of Thompson Productions as well as sale of his plane.”

— Tim

 

Errol Meets Erben — April 14, 1933

15 Apr

On April 14, 1933, in Salamaua, New Guinea, Errol met Hermann Erben for the first time. It was a momentous event in Errol’s life.


— Tim