Modern culture loves to put yesterday's icons on trial. A new biography of Errol Flynn, as reviewed in The Conversation, dutifully calls him the "greatest heartthrob of his time" before rushing to add the required disclaimers: racist, colonial exploiter, and accused rapist. The subtext is clear — this man, and the masculinity he embodied, must be condemned so we can feel superior in our enlightened woke age!
The Left, especially its feminist wing, hates Errol Flynn. They hate Sean Connery too. But on the dissent Right, those tired of sterile, therapised, androgynous modern manhood, we look at these men and say: They don't make 'em like that anymore. And that's a problem.
The Swashbuckler as Archetype
Errol Flynn was the ultimate Hollywood swashbuckler: Robin Hood, Captain Blood, the dashing adventurer with a sword in one hand and a woman in the other. Tasmanian-born, he lived a life of gold prospecting in New Guinea, sailing, fighting, drinking, and womanising on a legendary scale. His autobiography My Wicked, Wicked Ways reads like pure id, unrepentant, larger-than-life.
Yes, he had serious flaws. The rape accusations in 1943 led to a high-profile trial (he was acquitted, giving us the phrase "in like Flynn"). His time in colonial New Guinea reflected the casual racial attitudes of the era. He lived hard, died young at 50, body wrecked by excess. No serious person denies the dark sides.
But here's what the scolds miss: Flynn represented a raw, vital masculinity that thrilled audiences. He wasn't a sensitive male ally processing his feelings. He was a man of action, charm, risk, and dominance. Women wanted him. Men wanted to be him. That electric polarity — masculine pursuit meeting feminine response — powered entire genres of film and captured something real about human nature.
Sean Connery's James Bond played in the same key. Suave, physically imposing, unapologetically dominant. His infamous 1960s Playboy comments about slapping a woman (open hand, as a last resort after warnings) horrify today's ears. Yet Connery remained a massive star because he projected strength, competence, and a refusal to be henpecked. He was the fantasy of a man who could handle chaos, geopolitical or domestic.
The Feminist Reckoning that Misses the Point
Contemporary critics don't just acknowledge the sins of these men — they reduce the men to their sins. Flynn's colonial racism and sexual exploits become proof that traditional male charisma was always "toxic." Rough edges, high testosterone, and old-school courtship are pathologised. The goal isn't understanding complex humans in their historical context; it's tearing down any ideal of vigorous masculinity that refuses to apologise for existing.
This fits the broader pattern: the devaluation of fathers and stoic masculinity discussed previously today. Flynn and Connery weren't perfect fathers (Flynn's personal life was chaotic), but they embodied traits boys once aspired to: courage, physical prowess, emotional resilience under pressure, a willingness to pursue what they desired without endless self-doubt.
Today's approved male archetype is softer, more anxious, more deferential. He asks for consent via notarised forms and cries during commercials. The result? Young men checking out, rates of depression and purposelessness climbing. We traded swashbucklers for influencers doing skincare routines.
Flawed Men, Enduring Appeal
Loving Flynn or Connery doesn't require whitewashing their lives. Great men have often been bad in private — ambitious, driven, selfish. History is full of them. The dissent Right's affection is for what they represented culturally: unfiltered male energy channelled into adventure, excellence, and romance on their terms.
They didn't virtue-signal. They didn't beg for approval from the therapy culture. Flynn sailed into the unknown as a teenager. Connery rose from working-class Edinburgh to global icon through sheer presence. That combination of charm and danger, elegance and edge, is magnetic because it reflects deeper truths about sexual dynamics that polite feminist society tries to deny.
Modern Hollywood tries to manufacture replacements, slick, groomed, message-friendly stars. They rarely achieve the same mythic status. The old stars had gravitas earned through lived wildness, not focus-grouped relatability.
Bring Back the Fathers and the Rogues
The return of the father requires reclaiming the full spectrum of healthy masculinity — including its bolder, riskier expressions. Not every man needs to be Errol Flynn (most shouldn't imitate the vices), but we should stop demonising the archetype. Boys need models who conquer, protect, and pursue, not just emote and comply.
The Left's hatred for Flynn and Connery isn't really about their specific sins. It's about rejecting a masculinity that doesn't kneel. The dissent Right keeps their posters up, not because we're blind to flaws, but because we refuse to let the perfect become the enemy of the vital.
They don't make 'em like that anymore. Maybe it's time we started trying again.