He could give a good performance when he believed in the movie (e.g., Objective, Burma!) The problem was he didn't like doing the kind of films they cast him, and it wasn't until late in his career when he could no long swash a buckle, that he got the roles he wanted.Īlso, the documentary made clear that his autobiography was mostly just good literature (i.e., total bullshit, well told.) Ironically, the fact that he's a liar makes him not as bad a person as I thought.Īpparently he wanted to title it 'In Like Me.' In my quest for the sleaziest Hollywood memoir (Scotty Bowers's 'Full Service' and Lever's 'Me Cheeta' are top of the list so far), I found Errol Flynn's autobiography to be valuable in many more ways than this. Watching some of his movies again, I've changed my mind about him as an actor. The day before yesterday TCM showed Errol Flynn movies all day long, as well as a documentary about him. In the end, what more can you say about a man who met his second wife at his first rape trial? As if no one that witty and sophisticated and self-pitying could possibly be a child molester. He is describing his own evil acts, but doing it in such a way that you begin to feel sympathy for him. It reminded me of Humbert Humbert, the unctuous, self-justifying narrator of Lolita. But as a writer he was remarkably good, in a glib, raconteurish type of way. So, I obviously didn't come away liking him as a person. He was a slave trader in New Guinea, for God sakes! The womanizing was apparently the least wicked thing he did. I've never read anyone wallow so gloriously in their own evil-and evil is the only word for it.

My wicked wicked ways book