Does As He Pleases", pg 3
married Lili Damita, that, too, could be explained by the same quality.
She was a madcap and all Hollywood shook its head. It never would work
out. But would Errol Flynn, with that restlessness in himself, ever
be attracted to anyone but a madcap? Many people have thought that their
subsequent bickerings and separations, their constant kissing and making
up, was a sure sign of the end, or perhaps it was all a publicity build-up.
But it is neither. It's just that Errol, because of his amazing background,
is the kind of person who can never be hemmed in for long. As he broke
through that day in his first picture, so he breaks through and away
every once in awhile.
Again, he's a headache as far as publicity is concerned. When appointments are made for photographs or interviews, it's never certain that he'll show up, and if he does, he's always an hour or two late. Here's the story they tell about Errol and a certain writer. The writer had been after him for weeks and finally, one day Errol agreed to make it for lunch at the studio. "Don't you worry," he said, "I'll be there all right. I'm seeing Lili off to Europe at ten, and I'll be there at twelve." Twelve came, but no Errol. At one he was still absent. The writer and a member of the publicity department, at a table reserved for three, began to eat. At two they still were looking nervously at the door every time it opened. Finally the waitress said, "Who are you waiting for?" and they told her. She laughed.
need waiting for him," she said. "Just before I came on duty,
I saw him driving that big car out of here through the gate at fifty
miles an hour, tearing like mad. He ain't going any place either. He's
just traveling! Sometimes when he goes out like that he don't come back
took one look at the print and sank back weakly in a chair. "Would
you believe it, I never thought of that date, didn't even remember making
it until just now. That was the day Lili went to Europe, wasn't it? Gee,
I was just aching to be on the go myself that day, seeing her off and
everything, you know, sort of gave me the heebie-jeebies. I'm terribly
sorry old man, will you forgive me?"
And of course, the writer had to, because even if it wasn't a very good excuse, at least Errol was honest in making it.
In fact, he's so honest in always admitting his own shortcomings, that it's helped him out of more than one bad scrape. People are inclined to believe his side of a story. That happened not so long ago when word was spread that Errol had been mixed up in a fight at the Trocadero, that he had thrown a glass at a certain producer, and missed, and that Lloyd Pantages, the columnist, had been cut up instead. Well, as Errol explained it, nothing of the kind happened.
"We were drinking toasts in the good old Russian fashion, that's all, draining the glass, and then smashing it against the wall. But I guess I threw my glass a little harder than the others, and it splattered a little when it crashed. Lloyd Pantages got a piece of it in his wrist, and it bled,and I - well, to show you how little I meant to do any damage - I think I was the first to offer to help him. I made a trick bandage with my handkerchief."