The Autobiography of Errol Flynn - My Wicked - Wicked Ways

Errol really had a sad life. Errol never knew what love was. His mother never showed him love.But there some amzing pargraphs that are so ture. I cried on some parts and laughed on others. I hope other people will read this book.

You need a strong stomach to read this. His cruelty to animals made me close the book and not open again. Could not continue reading. He was a horrible person who indeed was wicked. Wish I could finish but honestly could not. I give him credit for the honesty.

This is one of the best collections of show business and real life adventure yarns I have ever read. Possibly 'Life' by Keith Richards, or 'Hammer of the Gods', regarding Led Zeppelin, come close, but neither have the breadth of experience of this book. I was aware that the actor had had his statutory rape trials, but who knew that Errol Flynn had also been charged with murder in Papua New Guinea or jailed for immorality in France (of all places). Or that he had spent years as a gold miner (failed)/treasure hunter (robbed)/sea boat captain (run aground)/Chinese war mercenary (AWOL with good reason). Flynn relates all of this with an ironic and sophisticated good humor that makes the pages fly by.

Plus, for the 1950's this book is pretty racy. MWWW contains what is possibly the funniest anecdote regarding fellatio (the actress Ida Lupino was involved) ever put on paper. And Flynn's comparisons of various drugs (cocaine, hashish, marijuana, opium) on the male and female libido are, well, interesting. True, by the end of the book the reader might feel they have been dragged through one whorehouse too many, but Flynn actually makes much of his life's story seem touching. Recommended.

There will never be another Flynn.

Here in his unabashed splendor Flynn recounts his larger than life exploits. A man who lived 10 lifetimes in his short 50 years gives an "as told to" account of his one of kind rise to flame.

To put Flynn into perspective you would have to imagine Brad Pitt as unapologetic womanizing stimulation junkie.
But, that still would not cover Flynn's intellect, flair, style, and his love for adventure.

Today male leads are wimps. They are afraid to romance women and live the life that us average guys wish they would.
Flynn did everything Flynn was capable of and more

He is happy go lucky, lustful, drunk, spending cash lavishly--constantly rebelling against authority and convention.
The man who helped write this book wrote a book about his experience with Flynn; it's worth a read as well.

Anyone who has the following said about him after his death is worthy of an autobiography:

Ann Sheridan, co-star in three Flynn films:

"He was one of the wild characters of the world, but he also had a strange, quiet side. He camouflaged himself completely. In all the years I knew him, I never knew what really lay underneath, and I
doubt if many people did."

Olivia de Havilland, co-star in eight Flynn films:

"He was a charming and magnetic man, but so tormented. I had a crush on him, and later I found
he did for me. In fact, he proposed, but he was not divorced from Lili Damita so it was just as well that I said no."

"He was all the heroes in one magnificent, sexy, animal package. I just wish we had someone around today half as good as Flynn".
--Jack L. Warner, Studio Boss of Warner bros.

"The only time he wasn’t living was when he was asleep, and even then I think he dreamt well".
---Second wife Nora Haymes

"Errol had the capacity to make everything an adventure - Even a quiet stroll through a simple country lane came alive either through a quick remembrance or a philosophical thought or a simple observation of the ecological patterns of the earth trees and flowers and their support system. His was a mind relentlessly searching".
---Patrice Flynn, wife

Errol Flynn was the greatest film action hero of his day. He played swashbuckling heroes in many films, most of which have been largely forgotten. In his posthumously published biography, My Wicked, Wicked Ways, he relates the highlights of a life filled with real adventures. He was born in Tasmania and his father was a distinguished biologist. He had a troubled relationship with his mother and, subsequently, all the many women in his life. He was kicked out of every school that he attended. As a young man he went off to New Guinea to make his fortune. There he managed a tobacco plantation and even became a slave runner. He was an accomplished sailor.

He went to Hollywood and was signed to a contract by Jack Warner. Captain Blood was one of his first real hit movies. The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938), made in 1938 was one of his finest performances and he did all of his own stunts. He played the role of George Armstrong Custer in They Died with Their Boots On.

Errol married the beautiful French actress Lili Damita. The couple was not destined for marital felicity. Arrivng an hour late to an anniversary (of the beginning of their romance, not their wedding) party with about fifty of their friends Flynn was in for a surprise...

"I entered the room after the whole party arrived. I began to mingle when I suddenly heard someone scream, "Look out, Errol!

Simultaneously there was Lili's voice behind me. "Happy Anniversary, darling." At the same instant down on my head came a full bottle of Veuve Cliquot champagne. Consistently French, my wife -- it was a fine vintage.

Dazed and blinded by blood pouring our of my head, I rallied for a moment, then pulled back my fist to swing. Knowing I had only one punch in me, I swing hard. Just before blacking out I felt my knuckles connect with a jawbone, breaking a tooth."

After moving out, Errol roomed with David Niven (Moon's a Balloon) in a wild bachelor pad in Hollywood.

After the Spanish Civil War broke out Flynn took a break from acting and went to Spain hoping to report on the war. Flynn writes, "Spain was being used was a testing ground for the weapons to be used later in World War II. Hitler and Mussolini helped Franco. Russia helped the Loyalists. America was playing it neutral.

In the human sense I was for everybody. Why the hell did brother have to fight brother? I knew there were idealists, fanatics, nuts on the Loyalist side. I understood that big money was sentimental to the Franco cause, or outrightly sympathetic. As to my own sympathies, I decide that since the split was a revolution by Franco against the legally elected Republican government, then I leaned toward the Left. There might be a little more idealism and humanity on that side."*

The Loyalist side attempted to recruit Errol to their side in the conflict. Errol relates, "A commissar wondered whether I could do real fighting of the cause. They gave me a machine gun and said I must go to a certain point and begin shooting...I couldn't do it. I simply couldn't shoot people down. Maybe this wasn't my war after all. I don't want to kill anyone. Not for political reasons. I didn't want to fire any guns for uncertain ideas. I had handled weapons galore in pictures, but there was a vast gap between the make-believe of films and the reality here." Flynn beat a hasty retreat from Spain.

Later when the Second World War began in September 1939 Flynn's pal, David Niven, joined the British Army and participated in the Normandy campaign. Flynn, a naturalized US citizen from 1942, attempted to join every branch of the American armed forces but was turned down as 4F; he had an enlarged heart, suffered from TB and was sometimes symptomatic from malaria he had contracted while in New Guinea.

During the war he became embroiled in a messy case of alleged statutory rape that involved two underage girls in Southern California. Flynn loved to sail. "My only real happiness is when I am near the sea." Naked young women would sometimes swim up to his yacht and offer themselves to him. He did not bother to check their IDs. William F. Buckley organised a group to support Flynn during the trial that was called the American Boys Club for the Defence of Errol Flynn (ABCDEF). Flynn was acquitted of the charges though his spirit was largely broken and he was, briefly, suicidal.

The expression "In Like Flynn" means to have achieved a goal, or to have gained access as desired. Flynn himself explains, "A GI or Marine or sailor went out at night sparking and the next day he reported to his cronies, whom asked how how he made out and the fellow said, with a sly grin, 'I'm in like Flynn.'"

Things went rapidly downhill for Flynn after his acquittal. He became an alcoholic who would often consume a fifth of vodka each day. He married twice more and divorced twice. Late in life he took up with a teenage (underage) girlfriend/actress named Beverly Aadland. They even wanted to audition for the role of Humbert Humbert and Lolita in the film based on Nabokov's novel!

He supported Fidel Castro at the onset of the Cuban Revolution making a movie called Cuban Rebel Girlswith Aadland in the lead.

At age 50 he died of a heart attack in Vancouver, Canada where he had gone to attempt to sell or lease his beloved yacht, Zaca.

Errol Flynn was, in some ways, the prototypical Hollywood liberal. He sympathized with the left during the Spanish Civil War without joining the fight like Orwell and others. Errol saw himself as a Robin Hood-like figure robbing "big money" studio chieftains like Jack Warner to pay...for his extravagant uninhibited lifestyle. He supported Fidel Castro during the Cuban revolution. He lived a hedonistic life and defied conventional morality. Errol burnt the candle at both ends -- whirling through life like a Tasmanian devil.

He was also a surprisingly decent father. He was largely truthful in his posthumously published memoir. Errol Flynn lived life on his own terms.

Errol Flynn was, as Coleridge wrote of Byron, "A wicked lord who, from morbid and restless vanity, pretended to be ten times more wicked than he was." This is a fascinating autobiography.

If you like My Wicked, Wicked Ways you may also enjoy America Invades: How We've Invaded or been Militarily Involved with almost Every Country on Earth by Kelly / Laycock and Italy Invades

The autobiography of Errol Flynn (1909-1959) is an extraordinary story of an iconic actor who starred in a string of swashbuckling movies in the 1930's and 1940's, including "Captain Blood", "The Charge of the Light Brigade", "The Sea Hawk", and "The Adventures of Robin Hood". A brawler, drinker, drug addict, and womanizer, he became a caricature of himself and, despite wealth, fame, multiple marriages and affairs, was a deeply unhappy man.

This is a warts-and-all book. There have been recent accusations that he was a bisexual and a Nazi spy. Considering what he was willing to admit or bragged about, it seems unlikely that either is true. He grew up in Tasmania with a scientist father (who brought the first live platypus to London) and a mother that Flynn battled with for most of his life. He said he never loved her but he respected her. Considering that she beat him regularly, once locked him in a storeroom for two days, and, when asked about her son when he brought them to the US, referred to him as 'a nasty little boy,' it's not hard to see where the actor's problems with women and authority figures came from.

Flynn's life after he ran away from home at 17 was as extraordinary if less savory than any of his movies. Sometimes living on the streets, he made his way to New Guinea where, in quick succession, he led a group of native policemen as part of a punitive expedition against natives who had murdered white gold miners, became a copra planter, played Fletcher Christian in a movie about the mutiny on the Bounty, became a tobacco planter, gold miner, slave trader, and sea captain.

Bumming his way across Asia in the company of a Dutch doctor, they lived cheap and made money by theft and cheating at gambling. Flynn went to England and worked in an acting company, made a couple of small movies, then was discovered by Hollywood, where he was an overnight success as "Captain Blood." He was 26.

He married the shallow, violent Lila Damita when she threatened suicide in 1935, and fled to Spain as a war correspondent with his Dutch doctor friend with the hope that he'd be killed. He returned to Hollywood and more movies, women, and drinking. His contract kept him swinging swords and riding horses in roles he despised. A bitter divorce cost him enormous sums and a crooked business manager cost him more.

As his harsh life took a toll on his looks, he started getting character roles that he actually liked, including playing his late friend and drinking companion, John Barrymore. He finished the book and died before it was published.

There is more in the book: his love of boats and the sea, his women (he admitted he didn't like women), his trial for statutory rape, fights, practical jokes, suicidal impulses, travel, and a love of learning. There is a lot distasteful about Errol Flynn: his predatory attitude toward women, his drinking and drug use, theft. He was also capable, charming, curious and yearned for something more out of life than being a parody of lust and swashbuckling. I could argue in the nature-vs.-nurture discussion that he was created or warped by some very unhealthy relationships, particularly with his mother, and difficult circumstances. If his life had been less bizarre, he could have been a great man. As to his stated wish not to lead a mediocre life, in that he succeeded.

4.8 stars

Easily my favorite memoir.

Flynn is an excellent writer and lived a truly epic, fascinating life. This book rarely flags, and only then towards the end. The rest is absolutely hilarious, and surprisingly insightful and self-effacing. I expected nothing when I found this on a library shelf some years back in Colorado, never having heard of it, and never have I been more pleasantly surprised by a book of any sort.

Flynn was a star like we can't imagine. He almost invented the devil-may-care movie star type, and no one has surpassed him since. Movies back then were everything; there was no tv, only books and radio, neither of which show a face, so when a perfect mug like Flynn's arrived on screen, attached to an athletic, daring scamp of an adventurer, he was, well, in like Flynn.

The only memoir I've found worth reading more than once (three times to date), Wicked Ways succeeds not only due to its great humor but Flynn's extraordinarily exciting early life. By far the best part is his adventures through the Orient with one of the wildest characters I've ever encountered in fact or fiction, Koots. This guy is something else, and deserves a movie and book of his own. I won't spoil this section, but suffice to say that few films pack the fun, humor and suspense that those chapters do. They're some of my favorite tales of all time, in fact.

The later years of Hollywood stardom and the fall therefrom get a bit wearing for both author and reader, and one feels that details may be missing but doesn't really care. Flynn may have a been a rogue in every sense of the word, but he also comes across as a decent man, with a sense of honor and fair play. He may have slept around with every starlet in Hollywood, many of them quite young, but it seems assured that none of them did so except very willingly. He's a charming bloke to the nth degree, and you'd be hard pressed not to smile and wave goodbye as your daughter gets into his Bentley and rolls away.

If you need humor and adventure in equal doses, both very large, this is your book.

Highly recommended.

Errol Flynn was the greatest film action hero of his day. He played swashbuckling heroes in many films, most of which have been largely forgotten. In his posthumously published biography, My Wicked, Wicked Ways, he relates the highlights of a life filled with real adventures. He was born in Tasmania and his father was a distinguished biologist. He had a troubled relationship with his mother and, subsequently, all the many women in his life. He was kicked out of every school that he attended. As a young man he went off to New Guinea to make his fortune. There he managed a tobacco plantation and even became a slave runner. He was an accomplished sailor.

He went to Hollywood and was signed to a contract by Jack Warner. Captain Blood was one of his first real hit movies. The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938), made in 1938 was one of his finest performances and he did all of his own stunts. He played the role of George Armstrong Custer in They Died with Their Boots On.

Errol married the beautiful French actress Lili Damita. The couple was not destined for marital felicity. Arrivng an hour late to an anniversary (of the beginning of their romance, not their wedding) party with about fifty of their friends Flynn was in for a surprise...

"I entered the room after the whole party arrived. I began to mingle when I suddenly heard someone scream, "Look out, Errol!

Simultaneously there was Lili's voice behind me. "Happy Anniversary, darling." At the same instant down on my head came a full bottle of Veuve Cliquot champagne. Consistently French, my wife -- it was a fine vintage.

Dazed and blinded by blood pouring our of my head, I rallied for a moment, then pulled back my fist to swing. Knowing I had only one punch in me, I swing hard. Just before blacking out I felt my knuckles connect with a jawbone, breaking a tooth."

After moving out, Errol roomed with David Niven (Moon's a Balloon) in a wild bachelor pad in Hollywood.

After the Spanish Civil War broke out Flynn took a break from acting and went to Spain hoping to report on the war. Flynn writes, "Spain was being used was a testing ground for the weapons to be used later in World War II. Hitler and Mussolini helped Franco. Russia helped the Loyalists. America was playing it neutral.

In the human sense I was for everybody. Why the hell did brother have to fight brother? I knew there were idealists, fanatics, nuts on the Loyalist side. I understood that big money was sentimental to the Franco cause, or outrightly sympathetic. As to my own sympathies, I decide that since the split was a revolution by Franco against the legally elected Republican government, then I leaned toward the Left. There might be a little more idealism and humanity on that side."*

The Loyalist side attempted to recruit Errol to their side in the conflict. Errol relates, "A commissar wondered whether I could do real fighting of the cause. They gave me a machine gun and said I must go to a certain point and begin shooting...I couldn't do it. I simply couldn't shoot people down. Maybe this wasn't my war after all. I don't want to kill anyone. Not for political reasons. I didn't want to fire any guns for uncertain ideas. I had handled weapons galore in pictures, but there was a vast gap between the make-believe of films and the reality here." Flynn beat a hasty retreat from Spain.

Later when the Second World War began in September 1939 Flynn's pal, David Niven, joined the British Army and participated in the Normandy campaign. Flynn, a naturalized US citizen from 1942, attempted to join every branch of the American armed forces but was turned down as 4F; he had an enlarged heart, suffered from TB and was sometimes symptomatic from malaria he had contracted while in New Guinea.

During the war he became embroiled in a messy case of alleged statutory rape that involved two underage girls in Southern California. Flynn loved to sail. "My only real happiness is when I am near the sea." Naked young women would sometimes swim up to his yacht and offer themselves to him. He did not bother to check their IDs. William F. Buckley organised a group to support Flynn during the trial that was called the American Boys Club for the Defence of Errol Flynn (ABCDEF). Flynn was acquitted of the charges though his spirit was largely broken and he was, briefly, suicidal.

The expression "In Like Flynn" means to have achieved a goal, or to have gained access as desired. Flynn himself explains, "A GI or Marine or sailor went out at night sparking and the next day he reported to his cronies, whom asked how how he made out and the fellow said, with a sly grin, 'I'm in like Flynn.'"

Things went rapidly downhill for Flynn after his acquittal. He became an alcoholic who would often consume a fifth of vodka each day. He married twice more and divorced twice. Late in life he took up with a teenage (underage) girlfriend/actress named Beverly Aadland. They even wanted to audition for the role of Humbert Humbert and Lolita in the film based on Nabokov's novel!

He supported Fidel Castro at the onset of the Cuban Revolution making a movie called Cuban Rebel Girlswith Aadland in the lead.

At age 50 he died of a heart attack in Vancouver, Canada where he had gone to attempt to sell or lease his beloved yacht, Zaca.

Errol Flynn was, in some ways, the prototypical Hollywood liberal. He sympathized with the left during the Spanish Civil War without joining the fight like Orwell and others. Errol saw himself as a Robin Hood-like figure robbing "big money" studio chieftains like Jack Warner to pay...for his extravagant uninhibited lifestyle. He supported Fidel Castro during the Cuban revolution. He lived a hedonistic life and defied conventional morality. Errol burnt the candle at both ends -- whirling through life like a Tasmanian devil.

He was also a surprisingly decent father. He was largely truthful in his posthumously published memoir. Errol Flynn lived life on his own terms.

Errol Flynn was, as Coleridge wrote of Byron, "A wicked lord who, from morbid and restless vanity, pretended to be ten times more wicked than he was." This is a fascinating autobiography.

If you like My Wicked, Wicked Ways you may also enjoy America Invades: How We've Invaded or been Militarily Involved with almost Every Country on Earth by Kelly / Laycock and Italy Invades

The autobiography of Errol Flynn (1909-1959) is an extraordinary story of an iconic actor who starred in a string of swashbuckling movies in the 1930's and 1940's, including "Captain Blood", "The Charge of the Light Brigade", "The Sea Hawk", and "The Adventures of Robin Hood". A brawler, drinker, drug addict, and womanizer, he became a caricature of himself and, despite wealth, fame, multiple marriages and affairs, was a deeply unhappy man.

This is a warts-and-all book. There have been recent accusations that he was a bisexual and a Nazi spy. Considering what he was willing to admit or bragged about, it seems unlikely that either is true. He grew up in Tasmania with a scientist father (who brought the first live platypus to London) and a mother that Flynn battled with for most of his life. He said he never loved her but he respected her. Considering that she beat him regularly, once locked him in a storeroom for two days, and, when asked about her son when he brought them to the US, referred to him as 'a nasty little boy,' it's not hard to see where the actor's problems with women and authority figures came from.

Flynn's life after he ran away from home at 17 was as extraordinary if less savory than any of his movies. Sometimes living on the streets, he made his way to New Guinea where, in quick succession, he led a group of native policemen as part of a punitive expedition against natives who had murdered white gold miners, became a copra planter, played Fletcher Christian in a movie about the mutiny on the Bounty, became a tobacco planter, gold miner, slave trader, and sea captain.

Bumming his way across Asia in the company of a Dutch doctor, they lived cheap and made money by theft and cheating at gambling. Flynn went to England and worked in an acting company, made a couple of small movies, then was discovered by Hollywood, where he was an overnight success as "Captain Blood." He was 26.

He married the shallow, violent Lila Damita when she threatened suicide in 1935, and fled to Spain as a war correspondent with his Dutch doctor friend with the hope that he'd be killed. He returned to Hollywood and more movies, women, and drinking. His contract kept him swinging swords and riding horses in roles he despised. A bitter divorce cost him enormous sums and a crooked business manager cost him more.

As his harsh life took a toll on his looks, he started getting character roles that he actually liked, including playing his late friend and drinking companion, John Barrymore. He finished the book and died before it was published.

There is more in the book: his love of boats and the sea, his women (he admitted he didn't like women), his trial for statutory rape, fights, practical jokes, suicidal impulses, travel, and a love of learning. There is a lot distasteful about Errol Flynn: his predatory attitude toward women, his drinking and drug use, theft. He was also capable, charming, curious and yearned for something more out of life than being a parody of lust and swashbuckling. I could argue in the nature-vs.-nurture discussion that he was created or warped by some very unhealthy relationships, particularly with his mother, and difficult circumstances. If his life had been less bizarre, he could have been a great man. As to his stated wish not to lead a mediocre life, in that he succeeded.

4.8 stars

Easily my favorite memoir.

Flynn is an excellent writer and lived a truly epic, fascinating life. This book rarely flags, and only then towards the end. The rest is absolutely hilarious, and surprisingly insightful and self-effacing. I expected nothing when I found this on a library shelf some years back in Colorado, never having heard of it, and never have I been more pleasantly surprised by a book of any sort.

Flynn was a star like we can't imagine. He almost invented the devil-may-care movie star type, and no one has surpassed him since. Movies back then were everything; there was no tv, only books and radio, neither of which show a face, so when a perfect mug like Flynn's arrived on screen, attached to an athletic, daring scamp of an adventurer, he was, well, in like Flynn.

The only memoir I've found worth reading more than once (three times to date), Wicked Ways succeeds not only due to its great humor but Flynn's extraordinarily exciting early life. By far the best part is his adventures through the Orient with one of the wildest characters I've ever encountered in fact or fiction, Koots. This guy is something else, and deserves a movie and book of his own. I won't spoil this section, but suffice to say that few films pack the fun, humor and suspense that those chapters do. They're some of my favorite tales of all time, in fact.

The later years of Hollywood stardom and the fall therefrom get a bit wearing for both author and reader, and one feels that details may be missing but doesn't really care. Flynn may have a been a rogue in every sense of the word, but he also comes across as a decent man, with a sense of honor and fair play. He may have slept around with every starlet in Hollywood, many of them quite young, but it seems assured that none of them did so except very willingly. He's a charming bloke to the nth degree, and you'd be hard pressed not to smile and wave goodbye as your daughter gets into his Bentley and rolls away.

If you need humor and adventure in equal doses, both very large, this is your book.

Highly recommended.

I was very impressed with "MY Wicked, Wicked Ways". For many reasons, one, Errol tells one hell of a story, it's a look back to by gone era but what impressed me most is Errol's brutal honesty about himself. I read reviews where it was said he embellished some of his adventures and as I read the book I kept an open mind. Though when Errol speaks about himself I believe we are getting a true look into a man who, even when he was alive was a legend. We get to know the man behind the legend and the myth and it's nice to know that Errol was just a regular guy who ended up having an extraordinary life. And after reading this, even if he never became an actor, his life would still be an amazing one, that's just who he was. I found it interesting how he became a victim of his own ladies man status and even though this bothered him he was too self-destructive to fight it. There are many pages where Errol says he was glad his looks had faded and that he hoped people would then see him and not the pretty face (a term he hated). Fascinating insight, he opened himself up wide open. So sad he died the year he wrote the book. In fact there are many references to death and as I read these there was an eerie feeling knowing that as he was writing this book death was not too far away. The good thing here is that Errol was able to set the record straight and good for him. I'm glad I read this book, it was entertaining as well as inspiring.

My Wicked Wicked Ways was every bit as entertaining as Flynn's on screen adventures. Amazingly handsome, a lady's man, highly intelligent and a natural athlete, his meteoric rise in Hollywood provided the money and resources to be a true Tasmanian Devil (he was born in Tasmania). Today's tabloids would have a field day with this guy!

This is the story of a man with an insatiable curiosity, but with a devil may care attitude. Flynn had a difficult time grasping the consequences of his actions. A heavy drinker and womanizer he lived by his rules and couldn't care less about his Hollywood image.

Catapulting to super stardom over night in the film Captain Blood there was no looking back. Robin Hood and The Sea Haw are arguably his finest roles where this swashbuckler takes over the big screen. With a spring in his step and a glimmer in his eye Errol Flynn captivated audiences and imaginations everywhere. I was fortunate to see a Flynn's movie years ago on the big screen and he was absolutely captivating.

Flynn tired as his role of swashbuckler and yearned for more serious roles. He became depressed when Hollywood continually cast him in the roles of adventurer. He could never quite break into serious roles except for a few movies such as Elizabeth and Essex He almost made it to the top with Gone with the Wind, but alas, it wasn't meant to be.

My Wicked Wicked Ways is told in the first person but is written by the ghost writer Earl Conrad. Conrad works effectively at keeping the tone of the book in Flynn's voice.

There are some great stories in this book. One story tells of Flynn and a companion fishing with dynamite. A shark grabbed the dynamite and swam towards their boat as a living torpedo!

In another amazing story Flynn was caught in one of the most heartless pranks in Hollywood. So called friends of Flynn stole John Barrymore's corpse from the morgue and set it up in a chair at Flynn's house with a lit cigarette. Flynn walked in after a hard night of drinking and reminiscing about Barrymore (they were friends). It scared him half to death.

Are all these stories true...some are true, some exaggerated and some may be totally false...but they are still enormously entertaining and there are enough threads of truth to make the book extremely engaging.

I read this book back in the 1970s when my mother mentioned that Errol Flynn messed up his life. He had great looks, fame, fortune and women. Then, he died relatively young as an alcoholic. I was fascinated and interested in learning more about this interesting human and what made him tick.

What I found was that Flynn was born with a many talents, but had an unbridled curiosity, the morals of a tomcat and had difficulty envisioning the consequences of his actions...and many times just didn't care! Flynn may wasn't an upstanding citizen, but he is sure fun to read about and see in the all the great movies he made!

I thoroughly enjoyed this book. It is one of my all time favorite books about an adventurer, a scoundrel and ladies man. It is packed with fascinating and hilarious stories. Highly recommended!

The Re-Discovery of Common Sense: A Guide to: The Lost Art of Critical Thinking

Errol Flynn dictated "My Wicked, Wicked Ways" to ghostwriter Earl Conrad in 1958. By the time the book was published, Flynn would be dead. But he left an entertaining memoir that seems emotionally honest, if it is not always factual. Flynn said, "If I have any genius it is a genius for living", and this chronicle bears it out. Flynn's great lust for life, curiosity, individualism, and love of the sea are present in nearly every word and deed. He was also gullible, alcoholic, and tended toward self-pity when he felt confined. As Jeffrey Meyers, one of Flynn's biographers, points out, Flynn sometimes exaggerated his misdeeds to leave no doubt as to his rakish reputation. Nevertheless, Flynn seems like a charismatic man whose good looks and iconoclastic lifestyle made him all the more irresistible.

Oddly, Flynn starts the story off with his nadir, the 4 1/2 years in the 1950s he spent vagabonding around the world, broke, unable to find work after he left Warner Brothers. These are not the years anyone would have best wanted to know Errol Flynn. Then Flynn takes us back to his childhood in Tasmania, son of a prominent biologist and hateful mother. Expelled from however many schools, the 17-year-old Flynn headed to New Guinea to find his fortune in the gold rush. If he is to be believed, in 5 years on the island he had the most extraordinary variety of occupations: a civil servant, manager of a coconut plantation, gold prospector, bird hunter, fish dynamiter, bottle-smeller (!), recruiter of indentured servants (i.e. slave trader), and charter boat captain, which brought his first taste of acting.

Flynn is never long between amorous adventures. His enjoyment of women and of all physical engagement in life are enduring themes. Though more than half of the book recalls his professional and social life as a Hollywood star, it doesn't seem to be the happiest time in his life, and he takes the opportunity to lambaste his first wife, the French actress Lili Damita, who hounded him for money until the end. Flynn talks about filming some movies, comments on co-stars, love scenes, and on his contentious relationship with Jack Warner, but this is more his personal take on his experiences than it is a catalog of events or gossip. He recounts his trial for statutory rape, of which he was acquitted, but he seems to feel wounded by the implication that he had injured a woman.

I haven't read any other biography of Errol Flynn, so I don't know how much of what he writes is fanciful. Some of his exploits seem improbable, if only because of their serial nature. In other cases, he doesn't exonerate himself from false accusations when he could. The man had a love-hate relationship with his public image, the need to maintain or exaggerate the truth of his wild ways, and disgust at the presumptive and unrelenting press and public. But, for its time, this was a candid memoir. Its style is that of a raconteur, conversational, colorful tales of a life lived fully and with little regret. This has some disadvantages, such as a lack of dates and chapters. The book is divided into five long parts. But Flynn's personality, perspective, and sense of adventure come across strongly.

Supported by my investigations of available materials (text, celluloid film, video and audio interviews), I arrive at my review of this clunking canard.

The autobiography supposedly written by Errol Flynn, * My Wicked, Wicked Ways *, is nauseating drivel that no man would write about himself.

This text defames the memory of the dead in typical style. I have read oceans of other such ghostwriters. One thing a fiction writer cannot hide from is the signature stamp of his voice. Every writer has a style that identifies him to his readers. This book, as is the wont of other such fakes cranking from the same mill, reads like a patchwork of fiction writers. Indeed too nice a word. They are calumniators. Literary sayanim. Some of them read like newbies. Writing is a craft. It takes years of experience to hone your blade. You corn balls.

In this bunko of a yarn, interestingly enough, the false accusation for which they jailed Dr. Fredrick Toben was for “defaming the memory of the dead.” Toben’s Galahad was barred from the courtroom. Had he galloped in, he would have run them all through. Truth is a lance, a burning sword. And don’t you tares forget it.

Come I to write in defence of Errol Flynn.

Flynn was killer good-looking. Ouch. Addressing Flynn’s false rape charge, his second wife said in an interview, “He doesn’t have to rape anybody. Women instead are trying to rape him.” Nora Eddington Flynn met and fell in love with her husband during his rape trial where she was employed by the court. Go gettum tiger.

The tares of our wheat field hate Mr. Flynn for the same reason they hated John Fitzgerald Kennedy. He was Celtic, well-bred, well-turned, bright, beautiful, talented, could navigate like a buccaneer, fetch anything he looked at and girls loved him. Dang that smarts. You homely tares cannot hold a candle to these men. You fancy yourselves thespians and statesmen. But you can’t touch these two.

In Flynn’s case, he came out smelling like a rose after a bit of meandering at risky jobs. His formal education was that of a thespian amid London’s finest. The tares cannot take this away from him. Nor that his father was a brilliant professor of marine biology. The boy didn’t come from white trash, you clunkers.

The ignorant average joe would think so, reading this tall tale. A fetid forgery, it is full of contradictions to the public domain. News releases, interviews, television programs, other books and articles have published opposite comments that are claimed by the book. Any devoted fan of Flynn’s would know this.

Some of the sycophants and clingers on of Flynn’s day have come out of the woodwork to smear him. I infer this is because they were bribed and needed the money. There is much truth to the adage “Every man has his price.” Oh for the power of avarice.

Upon investigating the backgrounds of these back-stabbers, one finds that their “acting careers” never got off the ground.

But Errol’s did. He took off like a rocket as Captain Blood. Thence to plum role after plum role. Headliner. Blockbuster. Sir Robin of Locksley. Every woman’s dream.

With not one bum-shot or trace of Hollywood sleaze. A tidy, well-groomed gentleman to the last, if you please.

Despite the ridiculous, photo-shopped mustache and groucho marx eyebrows on the cover of this doozy. The tie is suspect as having not existed in Flynn’s lifetime. What movie star would pose for a portrait in a tie this ugly? In Flynn’s day, clothes were a class act. The tie in this photo bears the “tare signature” of modern art. Which is no art. Just insult. A wire clothes hanger spray-painted orange and stuck in the ground. Is their idea of art.

On a note of similitude, I recall how after Princess Diana was killed, the tares photo-shopped her visage for their magazines. Yellow teeth, bloodshot eyes and a distorted nose. To me it was glaring, but to others it may not have been. They pick up the magazine and see a woman, whose beauty was besmirched with software, thinking “She ain’t that much.” The aim of yellow press is to smear, defame, contort, ugly-up and calumniate the quick and the dead.

So why do tares hate Flynn beyond their predictable envy? Perhaps because he beat the crap out of Jimmy Fidler of their yellow press. A calumniator, Fidler smeared Flynn where it hurt after Flynn’s beloved dog fell overboard and drown. Struck a nerve. Flynn tracked the little weasel down to the Mocambo Club. From the many accounts I have read, it was a public pouncing. Fidler was beaten unconscious.

One thing about the Irish, they know how to throw a punch. They don’t call them the fighting Irish for nothing. Ask the army on the receiving end of Patrick Cleburne’s steel at Chicamauga.

Flynn’s admirable filmography stretches from the mid-30’s to his death in 1959 with not one break in rhythm. Despite the labels affixed to him by this book, Flynn was a working actor till the day he died. He starred in three movies per year on the average. Sometimes more. He was a moneymaker. And they stole from his earnings like they stole from Michael Jackson. Managers are often tares. As are the owners of music and movie industries.

If one swallows the satanic drivel of this book, Flynn was a juvenile delinquent, dropout quitter, petty thief, satyr, gambling fan of blood sports, honourless pig and all around scumbag. If you go one further and read the rubbish on the web, he was a keyhole-peeper too.

Given Flynn’s hard-working career of 25 years, three wives, four children and a 118-foot schooner, I doubt he had much time for keyholes.

I tip my raven plume to Errol Flynn – along with JEB Stuart. I tip it with Shakespeare to a thespian worthy of the Round. I tip it on behalf of George Armstrong Custer and The Charge of the Light Brigade. O’ Kipling, O’ Tennyson, death cannot brag that he wanders in the shade.

To this day, who can touch him?

There was so much more to Errol Flynn than Hollywood and decadence. His life in Australia, Papua New Guinea, and travel into Asia was fascinating. The book had a sad ending with a self-fulfilling prophecy, which came true, i.e. Flynn died in 1959. The love and enthusiasm he had towards his son towards the end of the book was so warm, and it is so sad that Sean Flynn died in 1971, and his grandfather (Errol's father) in 1968. Therefore, three male generations of the family died within twenty years of each other. I admire Errol Flynn for his straightforward approach in this book. I feel like I was able to see from his perspective clearly. Flynn showed that adventure and a lot of fun can take you anywhere, albeit with a few bumps along the way, like all those claims from young ladies that were directed at him. I admire Flynn for backing his own ability and following his instincts. I just wish he could have lived longer.

Nicholas R.W. Henning - Australian Author

This autobiographical account of the life of the flamboyant bon vivant, actor Errol Flynn makes the old addage, "Truth is stranger than fiction", an understatement. The life of this quintessential soldier of fortune as told in his own understated renderings of prose is a virtual buffet from which men of more restricted conventions can feast as they cruise vicariously upon Flynn's yacht through the steamy rivers of his life. Float on Flynn's buoyant charisma as you travel the world and taste the fruits of social non-convention and fearless "you-only-live-once'ness". A bold biography for every man who wants to free himself, if only vicariously, from the self-imposed bonds of correctness and indulge himself in the sensual delights of a world far removed from computers, gridlock, CNN, polyesther and other destroyers of life's sensuality. A bio for the woman who wants to indulge herself in a wet, creamy fantacy safely out of view of her feminists peers.

This life story offers the reader a rare glimpse of a character that was in reality more facsinating than that of those he portrayed on screen. A lady's man; a man's man. A pretty face that would risk broken noses and scars in defense of honor. An athlete of unusual ability in the manly art of boxing, the sophisticated genre of tennis, sailing, and womanizing; all without rival. Flynn was a Don Juan in every outpost he manned, be it among the primitives in the jungles of New Ginea or the jungles of New York and Holleywood. If you are hungry for a taste of life, real life, and want to journey ala vicarious licentiousness, take Flynn to bed with you. Smell the frangipani, hear the night birds, see the Southern Cross in the nocturnal skies of the South Pacific, get a look at the heavenly bodies of the Holleywood stars in positions you never expected to find them in. My Wicked, Wicked Ways; a tale of manly strength, perfection of form and face, intelligence and savoir faire unleashed upon an unsuspecting world
of convention hungering for relief of itself. A perfect blend of humor, drama,
adventure and pathos.

Here in the Rocky Mountain region, we used to call them "rounders" which meant men who were a little wild on the inside. Flynn was a rounder. No, I didn't care if the book was entirely, 100% true. Yes, I think 90% of what he said was true, and the embellishments are easily forgiven.

Flynn was the real deal, regardless of what anyone says.

People who criticize him for recounting his exploits overseas say less about Flynn and say more about their own, sheltered, inexperience of the real world.

If I had to make a judgment call, I would say that this is a book for men. If you are a young man in your 20's or 30's, still lusting for adventure on the inside, but forced to conform to the corporate world on the outside, you will discover a kindred spirit in dear Brother Errol.

I'm currently reading, and having a helluva great time enjoying, My Wicked, Wicked Ways: The Autobiography of Errol Flynn. Good heavens, what a read. Is anything he says true? Well, maybe. Probably, at least some of it. But that's not really the point, not for me.

It reads as if it's the transcript of a recording of a great raconteur, a teller of tall-tales whose favourite tale is his own life. You get the sense of a man who is totally self-absorbed but, somehow, has such a winning personality you love him for it.

I originally picked up the book because I was interested in finding a unique character I might make use of in a story, a model for a supporting player. Well, geez ... did I ever get my money's worth in Flynn. It's not simply a matter of a long, episodic tale but also one of style. The words, syntax ... everything that goes into creating a "voice" in writing, is here.

It's the breezy voice of a kid who never grew up.

For me, the incidents are less important than the personality that comes across (although the incidents are quite remarkable). Together, personality and incidents, it makes for an incredibly entertaining book.

Flynn is a character, in the truest sense. He's marvellous and if I had known him, I don't think I would have trusted him any further than I could throw him.

(By the way, it sounds as if the writing of My Wicked, Wicked Ways was a great story too, or so the book's introduction suggests.)

For several generations Errol Flynn symbolized the rowdy bad boy hero whether it was on screen with such action roles as Robin Hood or George Armstrong Custer or off-screen with a swashbuckling life that at times buckled more than it swashed!
Make no mistake, this is a good autobiography but keep in mind you're reading about the life of the original Hollywood party boy who made the fallen idols of today seem puppy tame in comparison to Flynn's big dog personna.
Women thought he was handsome while men liked his Devil-may care attitude but his once good looks gave way to the years of alcohol abuse and the partying lifestyle and legendary excess had taken a physical toll into his forties. He would have made a good poster boy for JUST SAY NO but his life, at least from this reading, was all about giving in to the YES...eh, frequently.
From the various sexcapades to other scandals his real life seemed like it was scripted for an HBO miniseries or at times, a bad reality show. Errol Flynn was a big screen star but stars don't always shine best in the true light of day. And just like in the Wizard of Oz it's probably best if we don't dwell on what was really behind the curtain. Would I have liked to party with him for a weekend? You bet! Would I have been ready for re-hab and a good lawyer soon afterwards? More than likely.
MY WICKED,WICKED WAYS is aptly titled.

This autobiography is a real page turner. I really didn't realize Errol's life was so diverse.
I happen to be watching the TCM channel during Errol Flynn month.
I didn't know he made so many films (wearing pants, I'd only seen him in tights).

I became more interested when I heard this beautiful man (I assumed Errol had been a privileged Hollywood brat) lived in New Guinea for years before he made it in Hollywood.
I couldn't believe it.

I worked in Port Moresby (the capital of New Guinea) for about a month in 1999. I'd worked at many regions overseas; this was the worst hands down. On my first day our host explained the locals may be the ugliest people you've ever seen but they are the sweetest. I was offended by the comment until I got to the hotel (the only hotel in Port Moresby at the time). Wow, all I can say is the biggest feature on many of the locals was there heads.

By the end of the week our host mentioned there was a sort of club during the weekend. My colleagues asked if the locals were wearing shoes. I had different plans, like putting a chair up against my hotel room door. I watched the only two channels on TV. One channel displayed mostly Australians selling livestock the other was a kind of local channel showing severe rain storms destroying huts throughout New Guinea.

I'd ordered pancakes at the hotel once. They were served with the syrup poured on already. I don't expect the locals to know about IHOP but there were large bugs swimming around on the plate too.

Another time I ordered a pot of tea with lemon.
The sliced fruit appeared to have been sucked on prior to being delivered. For the remainder of the trip I ate nothing but Australian mini-bar food which consisted of chips and chocolate.

When we left work in the evening we regularly observed the locals lighting fires in the middle of the road. At the end of our visit one colleague had severe bed bug bites all over his legs and another had a nasty cough.

In addition to the thick green algae in the pool, having to skip over backed up sewer run off in front of the hotel, the strong urine odor in the business center and our hotel room showers and our missing clothing. I was trying my best to get out of there without contracting malaria.

So I definitely had to find out more about this excellent actor. This book is great. I read it twice. Errol describes New Guinea almost the same as it is today. New Guinea still has 100 or more different dialects and languages and most locals are culturally still light years away from the 20th century.

I definitely believe instead of contracting malaria in New Guinea Errol may have died there.
For Wicked Wicked Ways, Mr. Flynn actually dictated his life story to a ghost writer and approved its final manuscript. Unfortunately he died before its release. It was a number one best seller then and it holds up well today. Errol's life story goes from his birth to the end of his Warner Brothers career, to his life in Jamaica.

It's also one of the better novels about Mr. Flynn. Believe it or not there are many novels about him that are poorly written with nonfactual, improbable information.
Everyone wants to make a buck.

Patricia Puddle, author of Velvet Ball and The Broken Fairy (Volume 1) and
Star-Crossed Rascals said:

I loved this book and couldn't put it down until I'd finished it. Whether it's true or not, and I believe it is, it made me laugh my head off. What a funny, daredevil of a man. But it was also very sad that Errol Flynn was lost to us all so early in his life.

I highly recommend it, especially if you love adventure.

This is hands down the best autobiography I have ever read. I enthusiastically recommend it to anyone who wants to make the most of life. Sure, it may contain exaggerations, embellishments, and flat out lies. It doesn't matter. It is beyond inspirational, not to mention suspenseful, insightful, and shockingly intimate and revealing. Funny too! In short, I knew almost nothing of Errol Flynn before I read this book. Now, I love this guy! Pity him too, because there is an element of truth in this book that really puts the life of fame and fortune into perspective. Despite his so called 'shortcomings,' one cannot help admiring this guy's courage, wit, will, and yes, honesty. Whether he had a ghost writer or not, it was Flynn's voice I heard narrating. And I think its important to remember that some stories are true that never happened. Throughout the book, Errol demonstrates how the philosophy of 'acting as if' can take a man from obscurity to the extraordinary. A beautiful book to document a great life, and I dare say it should be a 'must read' for any young MAN setting out to live life to the fullest! Or, at the very least, a 'must-read' cautionary tale.

When one considers the legend of Errol Flynn; actor, rake, dissolute womaniser and general all-round swashbuckler, one would expect to be royally entertained by reading his autobiography. I was not. His own version of his life story came over rather flat. The account of his early adventures down-under probably more entertaining than the long list of trials and tribulations that was his lot in essentially making the same movie over and over again wearing different costumes. His constant misdeeds, infidelities and his ineffective efforts to finish ahead of his first wife in the fight for his assets were frustratingly dull.
I found this autobiography dull, dreary and pretty much with no spark; a rather good way to practice speed reading. He comes over as shallow, selfish and cynical. You could depend on Flynn, he would always let you down.
Flynn was not really a nice person to know, and this subject is not really a nice way to pass one's time reading about.

Excellent autobiography by Errol Flynn filled with spicy secrets of his own life, and some tantalizing Hollywood gossip from the 30's and 40's. It is hard to tell if Flynn is spewing the Irish blarney ( though he was originally from Austrailia) or actually telling the truth. My take was that it was a blend. His relating of his earlier years is a bit winded but remarkable all the same. Quick read. Highly recommended for lovers of "Old and glorious Hollywood"

This book is the best of the autobiograghies. Flynns magnitude was only matched by a few stars. Although there are a few errors since Flynn was suffering from booze and drugs - this is a true memoir of a man, star who regretted his life and knew he was dying very soon. I personally spoke to the ghost rider Mr. Conrad about his time with Errol. It can be said of Errol Flynn-" He was what every boy prayed to become , but as a man regretted he never achieved".
Noone can put this book down. Its a must read.

"There I was, sitting on top of the world.........Yet I found that at the top of the world there was nothing." Thus Flynn sees his situation as his roller coaster life was at the top of the big hill. Although the first half of this book describes his adventures as a young man, I did not find it all that interesting. Firstly, it's difficult to believe he could remember those times in such detail. Secondly, I was much more interested in reading about his time in Hollywood. And lastly, that section went on for too long and not all of it rings true.

The second half was much better although I wish there had been more details about the actual making of his movies.

A side note concerning a trip Flynn made to Mexico: He describes using marijuana (something I know a little about) for the first time. His description sounds much more like LSD or peyote than it does weed. Either the stuff he was smoking had something extra in it or the whole episode is made up.

This was a generally good book but not a riveting one. If you're a Flynn fan (as I am) I think you'll be reasonably happy with it. But for the casual reader who is not familiar with who Flynn was, you may not finish it.

What a fun book this was! A rolicking ride inside the life of a truly remarkable individual. Joy, melancholy, exasperation, flair and fight, darkness, and more - I was sad to see it end. I'm still processing... an E-ticket ride!

with all the underhanded efforts by some to tear down this historic figure it is fascinating to read flynns spin on his life. no doubt a stretch for the average joe to comprehend. however, his was a life unlike any prior or since. a compelling read and a must for anyone seeking the story from the man himself. a tragic story of a man who lived as others only dream.

Errol Flynn's life created a legend which his son Sean struggled to top. Sean Flynn and friend Dana Stone were captured in Cambodia during 1970 and disappeared. Readers of Errol's book will definitely want to read the aptly titled upcoming "Inherited Risk" by Jeffrey Meyers, one of the best father-son stories ever written.

This is a great book, really gives insight into the real Errol Flynn, the scoundrel, the adventurer, the pirate, the swashbuckler, the human. He was everything in real life and more what he was in the movies.

Great read, though his style of writing and lopsided story line is from a whole other world. Easily one of the best read's for a while. Helps to understand one of Australia's greatest hollywood star's of all time.

This is a great book, really gives insight into the real Errol Flynn, the scoundrel, the adventurer, the pirate, the swashbuckler, the human. He was everything in real life and more what he was in the movies.

Great read, though his style of writing and lopsided story line is from a whole other world. Easily one of the best read's for a while. Helps to understand one of Australia's greatest hollywood star's of all time.

You thought Errol Flynn's movies were exciting. They are, however the book is a real adventure you will enjoy taking. I read at night and now find myself going to bed earlier and earlier to read this book.

Great classic read!! BUT 25% bull.
What most Flynn fans fail to recognize, is that the very things that make Flynn so appealing: his fearlessness, felonious ways, his sundry addictions, his low threshold for boredom, his conflicts, lack of empathy for others, manipulative skills, hatred of authority, enormous charm, intelligence and slow suicide are all hallmarks of the psychopath. Flynn is text book. To some degree many people are borderline psychopaths, and often live normal lives (CEOs, politicians, and attorneys are estimated to consist of 20% psychopaths.). Often a life event dictates how they embrace their psychopathy. Errols mistreatment by his mother ( she beat and shamed him regularly in his youth), tipped the scales and set him off on his wounded way, forever using and getting even with society. Sorry to burst bubbles. The great Flynn was psychopathic. Run him by the famed Hare check list and you'll see.

This book really turned me against whatever memory I had of Errol Flynn...just be prepared to be surprised and a bit disgusted with him...at least he was pretty honest about the fact that he was always looking for the easy (and frequently dishonest) way out...while, at the same time always finding a way to glamorize his conquests. He had quite a life, I will say that...certainly NOT what I expected, though. :-) As far as the writing goes...it's readable...that's about the best I can say.