Quentin Willson double-takes as a memorable Bentley crosses the block
30 years ago, I was starstruck by a mysterious Hollywood starlet. I’ll forever regret missing a recent opportunity to become more closely acquainted
Ihave a clear memory of this encounter. One of those formative old car moments that stays with you forever. In the late Nineties when I was in LA filming, the director and I headed into the legendary Beverly Hills Hotel for a drink. Parked prominently by the main doors was a gloriously patinated Bentley S1 HJ Mulliner Flying Spur. Raffishly worn, its chipped paint, polishedthrough chrome and creased black leather made me stand and stare. On manicured Sunset Boulevard with its valeted-twicea-week Lincoln Town Cars and Mercedes 500SLS, this was an unusual vision. The California vanity plate read ANDESN but there were no other clues to its clearly non-conformist owner. I must’ve spent ten minutes admiring its special bloom of unmolested originality before walking into the hotel bar and then boring my director for most of the evening about why this shabby old Bentley was so remarkable.
Well, blow me, if this month, looking through Bonhams’ Amelia Island auction catalogue, I spotted the car again. Almost exactly as I remember it. But this time up for sale with a furlong of catalogue detail to vindicate why, 30 years ago, chassis BC22LEL had stopped me in my tracks.
The owner – and this will date you if you remember him – was actor Richard Anderson of 6 Million Dollar Man fame. He starred in more than 100 movies and scores of high-rating TV favourites like Columbo, Murder She Wrote, Charlie’s Angels, The
A-team and Hawaii Five-o. He was a longtime friend and neighbour of Cary Grant, so it’s possible that Grant also savoured the ambience of this special Flying Spur. The Bentley’s history was like a time capsule from Seventies Hollywood with period pictures of Anderson with the car plus a letter from his daughter saying how the Bentley was such a familiar sight at LA hotels that car valets ‘always gave it premier parking spots at the front entrance’.
Bonhams’ pre-sale estimate was a heady £120,000 to £150,000, so I didn’t take it seriously. Big mistake, because when I saw the Amelia Island auction results several days later, I could have wept. For whatever reason – the Coronavirus, a weak market or the pressures of sorting out Anderson’s deceased estate – this 1958 Hollywood icon was sold for just £60,698 all-in. For any coachbuilt HJ Mulliner Flying Spur this was the lowest price I’ve seen for years – properly sorted examples can make £200k – never mind this one’s fascinating provenance and history.
Sure, a perfectionist would spend £30k on a repaint, refresh and lots of detailing, but it was still a decent driver and I could have shipped it back to the UK and just wafted around, enjoying all its timehonoured imperfections. To wipe away all that Hollywood patina would have been sacrilege anyway. Worse still, and a fact that wasn’t mentioned in the catalogue, is that BC22LEL was one of only 16 left-handdrive Flying Spurs ever built on the S1 chassis. So it was both rare and famous. My dismay was complete. Fate has been cruel. All those years ago I knew this Bentley was special and then, three decades later, I’m presented with the chance to own it which I stupidly ignore. I’m not sure what the moral is here – apart from doing your research and listening to your instincts. I leave you with an intolerable sense of loss.