by Lincoln D. Hurst, Ph.D.
Printed by permission of the author
PROFESSOR'S GRADE: A
At long last, here is the book many have been awaiting for the past thirty years.
No other film star of the twentieth century has been more ill-served by biographers than has Errol Flynn. Now Thomas McNulty has attempted to set the record straight. Has he delivered the goods? Absolutely. Errol Flynn: The Life and Career is the best single book on Errol Flynn yet to be written.
McNulty, an author living in Crystal Lake, Illinois, has provided a straight-from-the-shoulder account of the man best remembered as the Bandit of Sherwood Forest. After his arrival in Hollywood in early 1935 and his overnight success in such adventure epics as'Captain Blood' and 'The Charge of the Light Brigade', Flynn quickly became the man most women wanted to make love to, and the man most men wanted to be. Certainly it is true that he bedded more women in his lifetime than an average man can possibly imagine in his wildest fantasies. But he was often more preyed upon than preying. And few of the women he dallied with ever claimed later that they regretted it. After all, what woman wouldnít have changed places with Olivia de Havilland, as she and Robin disappear behind the oak doors of Nottingham castle at the conclusion of The Adventures of Robin Hood? And yet, as McNulty takes pains to show, Errol Flynn's life did not have a happy ending. He died prematurely in 1959, aged 50, his body bloated by illness and ravaged by substance abuse.
Twenty years after Flynn's death the sadness continued when in 1980 a scurrilous and highly inaccurate biography (Charles Higham's Errol Flynn: The Untold Story) depicted Flynn as a cold, heartless monster given over to selfishness and perversity, a man lacking all human decency and scruples. As a result Flynn's reputation was left in tatters. Nearly a quarter of a century later McNulty provides us with a long, thoughtful and satisfying book that goes a great distance toward correcting the injustice. Along the way he also provides a window into three of the most crucial decades of the twentieth century.
McNulty constructs his book around what he sees as the five epochs of Flynn's life: 'From Tasmania to Hollywood, 1909-1935', 'Hollywood, 1935-1940' 'The War Years, 1941-1945', 'Don Juan, 1946-1949', and 'The Wanderer, 1950-1959'.
The research that went into the making of this book is impressive, to say the least. To an extent McNulty was handicapped by the fact that those who were closest to Flynn (two of his wives, Nora Eddington Flynn and Patrice Wymore Flynn, his daughters Deirdre and Rory, and his 'young companion' Beverly Aadland) would not consent to be interviewed for the book. But McNulty more than made for it. The lengthy preface makes mention of many others who cooperated with him, including Douglas Fairbanks, Jr, Sheb Wooley, Jack Elam, Robert Vaughn, Paul Picerni, Vincent Sherman, Arthur Hiller, Janet Leigh, and Olivia de Havilland.
How did he locate all these people? It was a remarkable feat, by any measure. Two of the more interesting interviews come from Wallace Berry (who was, by the way, not the son of the famous actor - note the different spelling) and Richard Dodd, a Flynn collector of many years standing.
The back portion of the book is as useful to a study of the subject as what comes before. This includes two appendices. The first, entitled Remembrances, records insights from a wide variety of people, including David Niven, Patric Knowles, John Huston, Kirk Douglas, Veronica Lake, Robert Stack, and Sheldon Leonard. Many of these are fascinating and funny as they focus on Flynn's charm, peccadilloes and hidden talent, not to mention the wild parties he often threw at his Mulholland Drive estate. (Frankly, I could have done without the remarks of Sheldon Leonard.) The second appendix is an extensive filmography which takes into account all of Flynn's film, stage, and television work. The exhaustive bibliography rivals that of Peter Valenti (Errol Flynn: A Bio-Bibliography). This includes all the sources that went into the making of McNulty's book, including a catalogue of Flynn's unpublished letters (on this see further below). The documentation of the book is supported by hundreds of footnotes. A long and comprehensive index likewise increases the value of the book enormously.
The book's approximately eighty photos are excellent, although they undoubtedly pushed up the price. While a number have been seen elsewhere, the selection is wise, capturing Flynn at the most representative moments of his career. The stills from his films highlight Flynn's best roles, while a number of the unpublished candids are real stunners. Among my personal favorites are a close-up of Flynn looking exhausted while filming a boxing scene for Gentleman Jim,î a glimpse of him (with blood still visible in his ear) with Bruce Cabot following the infamous Jimmy Fiddler brawl, and a shot of Flynn shaking hands with a judge (after the same incident) in which he looks remarkably like George Armstrong Custer, whom he had just portrayed in 'The Died With Their Boots On.'
The timing of this book could not be better. It comes shortly before Warner Home Video's release (in 2005) of a boxed dvd set of six of Flynn's best early films ('Captain Blood,' 'Dodge City,' 'The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex,' 'The Sea Hawk,' 'Dive Bomber,' 'They Died With Their Boots On'). This will include a new documentary on Flynn's life, along with many other extras, including extended discussions of the making of the films.
Among the book's most impressive qualities is its accuracy. McNulty's fidelity in dealing with minute details has resulted in a book that is virtually free of error. In fact, the only mistake I discovered in two readings - and perhaps it is too slight to mention - comes near the end. There McNulty describes Flynn's appearance as a 'gentleman hobo' on'The Red Skelton Show' weeks before his death. Holding up a tattered stovetop ringer, Flynn is asked ]What's that?' by Skelton, playing another hobo. Flynn replies, 'That, dear boy, is a port hole.' 'A port hole?' Skelton asks, laughing. Flynn then adds, 'Ah yes . . . memories, memories.' This, of course, is a veiled allusion to Flynn's 1943 statutory rape trial, in which the location of the porthole on Flynn's yacht the Sirocco turned out to be a key piece of evidence that resulted in his acquittal. (It is especially ironic that such a reference would be made, considering that appearing on the program with Flynn was Beverly Aadland, who was then just 17.) In McNulty's version, Flynn says 'portholes, portholes.' But that is the only misstep - the exception that proves the rule in a virtually error-free book of nearly four hundred pages.
It is especially encouraging to note the recent trend in Hollywood biographies to adopt a more scholarly approach rather than the older tabloid style. (See, for instance, Arthur Lennig's Stroheim, Richard Schickel's D. W. Griffith and Clint Eastwood: A Biography, or Gary Giddins' Bing Crosby: A Pocketful of Dreams). Books about great film personalities are suddenly looking more like David McCullough's John Adams than Kitty Kelly's His Way. McNulty's book is additional evidence of this trend. The text is meticulously written and just as meticulously documented. The style throughout is a joy to read. It is true that, here and there, on very rare occasions, the eagerness of the poet might overcome the sounder instincts of the prose writer with such purplish-sounding lines as 'Errol Flynn entered the glittering neon jungle of Los Angeles'; '. . . as he grew he would explore the winds and tides of the seven seas on the sails of his imagination'; or 'His picaresque life as a sailor on the seas of fate. . . . 'Those who make a living dissecting the literary efforts of others might find such metaphorical ornamentation a bit 'lavish.' But, if true, that would be a pettifogging quibble - more a matter of individual taste than of substantial criticism. Any such rhetorical flourishes are hardly frequent enough to compromise the integrity of McNulty's overall effort, and are more than outweighed by the sustained brilliance of the writing throughout. Who could possibly improve on the following: 'He radiated the confidence of a man who knows he cannot lose. There was a sense of defiance about him. He conveyed these things with a faint smile, by the confidant way he stood, the expressively cocked eyebrow, or the knowing glint in his eye.' Or, 'Errol Flynn's rise to fame coincided with many of the twentieth century's historical highpoints: rising to stardom during the Great Depression, he personified the image of a movie star and captured the imagination of an America desperately in need of heroes; his erotic escapades diverted an increasingly cynical media during the cold, long years of World War II; and his hedonistic, vagabond lifestyle became a blueprint for the counterculture of hipster poets who flourished after the bitter years of McCarthyism.' That is literary elegance. That is biographical writing at its best.
And yet, again, on very rare occasions, the undeniably superior prose sits oddly with a colloquialism such as 'Flynn installed potted palms on the yacht so that Arno could take a leak in style.' Or again regarding Arno: 'A moment before Flynn reached the cat the feline leaped from the pole onto the power line and burned to a crisp before his eyes. Errol, they say, was sickened by the sight. 'Arno made no comment to the press.' The latter sentence, somewhat glib and arch, should have been cut in editorial, as it does nothing to contribute to a work that wishes to be taken seriously by the reader. Fortunately, such indulgences are the exception rather than the rule.
However, of greater potential trouble is the possibility that here and there too much attention is given to those who were at best on the periphery of Flynn's life. One reviewer has found this distracting (in his words, the book is 'at times eloquent but loaded to the top with trivia and enough background information to drive some readers over the edge'). I personally did not have this reaction. After all, a book is much like today's dvd's - if you find a certain bit distracting or boring, your can just turn the page or flash forward to the next section or chapter. But others might disagree.
The loving way in which McNulty writes of Flynn reflects the 'Hamlet principle' - that if certain figures are sufficiently adored by the public, their foibles will be forgiven accordingly. Flynn's faults are somehow woven into McNulty's overall portrait without fatally detracting from the positive legacy Flynn left, and this ability is clearly born of years of deep study and understanding on McNulty's part. To write so astutely about a past figure an author must to a large extent 'get under the skin' of that person. With Flynn that is of course a daunting (some would say impossible) task. But McNulty demonstrates that it can be done, to a large degree, in his sensitively constructed account.
As part of the recent trend, McNulty has no patience with the trash biographies of Higham ('pathetic') and David Bret ('the worst'), and one comes away with a slight feeling of regret that the author didn't weigh in a bit more here. What makes the work of these two writers so bad? To hard-core Flynn aficionados, of course, the answer will be self-evident; but a wider readership might wish for a bit fuller explanation.
As stated, one of the bookís most valuable sections is the bibliography and its meticulous cataloguing of sources, published and unpublished, which provides the reader with a sense of the richness of Flynn's literary output. These include numerous unpublished letters of Flynn to which McNulty was privy, and which he has put to extraordinary use throughout the book. In addition, McNulty had access to Flynn's private, unpublished diaries (known variously as 'the Majorca, Rome, Naples, and Jamaica diaries'), and this was to him a major help. Author Jeffrey Meyers (Inherited Risk: Errol and Sean Flynn in Hollywood and Viet Nam) also had access to these diaries, and while there is some overlap, the reproduction of the passages is not identical. One of the most powerful that McNulty discusses concerns Flynn's 1953 visit to the museum at Pompeii, Italy, with its humans and animals frozen in their steps during the eruption of Vesuvius in 79 CE. Flynn's comments about a dog ('poor guy') as it choked to death, still chained to its post, are especially poignant. Elsewhere in the diaries Flynn records many thoughtful and funny passages that show him at his best - and worst.
Another major strength of the work is the way in which McNulty focuses on Flynn's 'spiritual' side - his unfulfilled longings for a sustaining religious faith that he was somehow never able to find. Along the way McNulty also brings to light the wide range of Flynn's reading, including many classical writers such as Plato and Aristotle, and discusses with insight Flynn's lifelong urge to be a professional writer.
In terms of the tremendous work and industry that went into it, not to mention the distinctive writing style which McNulty has honed over the years in his various magazine articles, this is a highly original work. But is it totally original? McNulty is too honest to portray his book as 'an Aaron's calf' - something that just came out of the fire. This is no book accomplished in the seclusion of his study or in a vacuum. It is to some extent a fascinating collaborative effort. Albert Einstein once acknowledged his enormous debt to Sir Isaac Newton, remarking that if he could see further than others, it was only because he was able to stand on the shoulders of a giant. Similarly McNulty makes it clear that his work is indebted largely to two others: Paul M. James and Trudy McVicker. As a young man James had seen 'The Charge of the Light Brigade' in 1936, and he never got over it. He instantly began what was to become a lifetime hobby - acquiring and cataloguing almost everything he could get his hands on relating to Flynn. As McNulty explains, this eventuated in 'ten huge scrapbooks, each containing thousands of clippings, words and images . . . with care given to documenting the published work' McNulty adds, 'Flynn would have appreciated the fact that Paul's magnificent collection fit snugly into several tightly packed vodka cases.' Through an act of wondrous generosity James bequeathed the scrapbooks to McNulty shortly before his death. 'Although I began the research that culminated in this book in 1992,' McNulty continues, 'Paul's scrapbooks provided the source material I needed to proceed and often served as the impetus for my own investigations.'
Trudy McVicker, McNulty's old friend and by all accounts a woman of considerable charm and integrity, had actually seen Flynn 'in the flesh' on two occasions; she also had previously been of considerable help to writer Tony Thomas in his various researches. Her willingness to be of assistance to McNulty in all matters Flynn is yet another selfless act marking a long, fascinating, and richly textured life.
Returning to the book's writing style, and speaking very personally, I found it refreshing to find an authoritative book on Flynn in which four letter words are relatively absent. In most books on Flynn they tend to be overused, partly because Flynn, as is well known, loved them and could often be extremely profane and vulgar. But with a few exceptions there is little room here for that sort of thing. Is McNulty perhaps bowdlerizing a bit - 'cleaning up' his picture of Flynn? Or is this something born of an intuition that Flynn, when not under the influence of the alcohol and drugs (which ultimately destroyed him), was an essentially decent man? It's an interesting question.
One of the central sections of the book entails an extended and detailed discussion (with the reproduction of some key memos) of Flynn's FBI files, all of which tends to leave the reader with a rather depressed feeling. As to how much of it was true, and how much was the result of J. Edgar Hoover's neurotic preoccupation with Flynn's playboy sex life, will probably never be known.
In a related vein the book contains the obligatory treatment of Flynn's 1943 trial for statutory rape in Los Angeles County. This was clearly the turning point of Flynn's life. Before he was indicted and tried for having had 'illegal intercourse' with two underage girls, Peggy LaRue Satterlee and Betty Hansen, Flynn was a relatively carefree bon vivant who tended to take his celebrity and success with a pinch of salt; afterwards he quickly became seduced into believing his own phallic myth. (This, as McNulty points out, is surely lies at the center of Flynn's personal tragedy.)
The details of the endless trial, which in its day was as riveting to the country as that of O.J. Simpson more recently, have been reproduced in books again and again, to the point that almost any account will be beating a horse so dead it's been ground into hamburger meat. But of course many of McNulty's readers will be members of a new generation, and hence not familiar with the details, which McNulty handles with wisdom and skill. It is also appealing, for once, to see a positive assessment of Tedd Thomey's The Loves of Errol Flynn, a well-written little volume that had the misfortune of having its minor virtues totally effaced by its trashy title. It was among Tony Thomas' and Earl Conrad's favorite books about Flynn, and contains the most complete account of the 'rape' trial in existence.
Flynn was often an infuriatingly complex man, deeply troubled throughout much of his life. He was a labyrinth of false leads and an endless set of contradictions. Rather than attempting to force Flynn into a neat, coherent mold that does away with the tensions and paradoxes inherent in his character, McNulty simply allows the contradictions to stand, preferring that the reader interpret them as he or she may. One comes away from the book with the feeling that Flynn was as big a puzzle to himself as to everyone else.
Some critics might complain that, here and there, the detail and incident is of a rather exaggerated importance. In other words, McNulty has said to himself, 'Here is someone who has never before been interviewed about Flynn'- for instance Wallace Berry, Penny Parker or Paul Picerni; or, 'Here is something which so far has not been included in any Flynn biography' - for instance a treatment of the 1939 'Dodge City' premiere; thus the importance of these things to the story is exaggerated in terms of the amount of space given to them. While not particularly bothered by this myself, I can see how some might find it distracting. (I do, however, feel that the account of the 'Dodge City' premiere, or the saga of Flynn's 1949 'Adventures of Don Juan' goes on too long.) No matter - seldom in the case of a film star biography has the adage proved truer: 'the whole is greater than the parts.' Carp about details if you like; the final effect of McNulty's treatment is overwhelmingly positive, and will eventually win over even the most reluctant reader. It will also be of enormous significance to all future attempts to understand Flynn. The book is packed with incidents from Flynn's life, much of it virtually impossible to find elsewhere. Where else, for instance, can one learn about the white car in the background of the graduation scene near the beginning of 'Santa Fe Trail,' or know that Flynn was probably driving it, just to spoil the scene? (If you look carefully at the far right side of the screen, the car flashes by, behind the bushes, as the graduates finish singing the West Point song). Again, some might find this sort of detail an example of 'overkill' ; I, however, loved it. Because McNulty has found and faithfully reproduced so many of these obscure, hard-to-find things - especially critical documents and remembrances of Flynn which otherwise would have been permanently lost - future generations already owe him an enormous debt.
Another value of Errol Flynn: The Life and Career is its inclusion of an adapted version of McNulty's exhaustive Filmfax article on the television appearances of Flynn. This will undoubtedly introduce the public to a whole new aspect of the Flynn saga that is virtually unknown; for that alone the book is almost worth 'the price of admission.'
In the end what is perhaps most compelling about McNulty's treatment is the way he has handled his sources. There is an unimpeachable sense of probity here. No tampering with the evidence, no devious manipulation of the primary information is to be found; if any distortion exists, it will be more a question of selection and emphasis placed upon various sources and incidents in Flynn's life, and this will be the result of personal emotions and highly subjective analysis. Of course, it is axiomatic that no such thing as 'objective biography' exists. All biographies are by nature selective, and thus unavoidably distortive; subjectivity is part of the biographical enterprise. But if anyone has come close to capturing 'the real Flynn,'it is McNulty.
In short, McNulty has gifted the world with an encyclopedic account that provides the first fully documented, carefully composed, and ultimately sympathetic reflection on Flynn's life and work - yet without ever being uncritical, mawkish, or sentimental. The Flynn who emerges from these pages is a compelling, flesh and blood figure, warts and all, whose tragedy was that he attempted to fly too close to the sun. He was a much better actor than he thought he was, and a much less wicked man that he liked to portray himself in public. Despite the sadness inherent in his life, however, this Flynn biography is no 'downer' - as was the case two years ago when Jeffrey Meyers' Inherited Risk tried too hard to create a father-son 'Greek tragedy.' Here the reader comes away with a positive, balanced, and even grateful feeling toward the subject.
Few film star biographies will be worth laying out what the publisher is asking for it ($65); this one is an exception. The evident care and love that went into it will more than repay the reader, who will come back to it again and again in the countless hours of future delight that lie ahead.
Errol Flynn: The Life and Career
by Thomas McNulty
Hardcover: 381 pages
McFarland & Company. April 8, 2004
ISBN: 0786417501
Thomas McNulty was born in Chicago in 1955 and is a graduate of Columbia College.
He is the author of the biography Errol Flynn: The Life and Career (McFarland Publishers, ISBN: 0-7864-1750-1), a culmination of seven years of research and three years of writing. Max Allan Collins, author of Road to Perdition, has said that Tom's book is "As compelling as a great novel...an affectionate yet unflinching look at the life and films of a real-life swashbuckler."
Tom's celebrity interviews, articles, essays, book reviews and film reviews have appeared in numerous publications including American Cowboy, The Big Reel, Classic Images, Filmfax, Films of the Golden Age, The American Poetry Anthology, Kung-Fu Qigong, Mystery News, and Scary Monsters among others. His interest in writing stems from a childhood where reading was promoted by his parents. He has also published poetry in various literary journals. His other interests include the Korean martial art, Kyuki-Do, which he has been practicing for several years. Among his current projects are a childrenís story and several additional non-fiction books. Tom lives in Crystal Lake, Illinois with his wife, Jan, and daughter, Brenna.
"Author McNulty with another of his favorite swashbucklers, Jackie Chan"
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