Marilyn Monroe (23 page)

‘I had the fortune of speaking to Miss Monroe directly that day while the others walked in the lobby and the outdoor patio taking in the view. I found her to be nothing of the glamour queen we portrayed her as, but more the down-to-earth girl we all wish superstars to be. She drank a vodka martini, and
although we spoke casual conversation she did ask if I could imagine knowing a thousand people and not having any friends. This chance meeting with Marilyn Monroe showed me that under all of the glitz and glamour beats the heart of one person, one single person, that gets happy, sad, frustrated and lonely. Just like the rest us.’

On other days, Marilyn was shown around the local sights by a number of tour guides, one of whom was local politician Arthur E.C. Jolley, who also owned Jolley Construction, the company which built some of the movie sets. His daughter, Lisa Truax, remembered that her father showed round not just Marilyn, but also Jean Peters, and he later described it as one of the greatest highlights of his career.

Another person to meet Marilyn (and be photographed with her), during her time in Niagara, was a young man by the name of Robert Slatzer, who later became a notorious figure in the life and legend of Marilyn Monroe.

On 29 August columnist Dorothy Kilgallen commented on the meeting between the couple, declaring that Slatzer was ‘a dark horse in the Marilyn Monroe romance derby’. Then on 18 September (on the same day that Marilyn tossed out the first ball at the Sixth Annual ‘Out of this world series’ at Gilmore Field), Slatzer stood in for Kilgallen, and wrote a short article about his friendship with Marilyn. In it he revealed that they had met in 1947, while Twentieth Century Fox employed them both, and they lost their jobs at the same time. ‘I didn’t see her again until last June in Niagara Falls,’ he said. ‘I didn’t know that Norma Jeane was now Marilyn.’ He then went on to describe how he had sent Marilyn a number of books to read, including several by Thomas Wolfe entitled
You Can’t Go Home Again
and
Look Homeward Angel.

This story would have been perfectly harmless enough had it not been for the fact that years after Marilyn died, Slatzer changed his story to include a long romance spanning many years, and a secret marriage, which he claimed was annulled on the instructions of Twentieth Century Fox. According to
Slatzer, the couple were married in Mexico on 4 October 1952, and returned there a short while later in order to bribe the judge to burn the wedding certificate. One of the problems with this story is that cheques show Marilyn was shopping with Natasha Lytess that day, and nowhere near Mexico.

While there is no doubt that Slatzer met Marilyn, the general consensus is that the couple did not have a deep relationship and certainly never married. Added to that, Marilyn’s views on the studio’s reaction to marriage were later expressed when rumours began to surface that she was secretly married to Joe DiMaggio. On 21 October she said, ‘If I wanted to get married now, I would. And if I already were, the studio’s wishes would not be important enough to make me keep it secret.’

August saw a party held in Marilyn’s honour at the home of Ray Anthony; on the 24th she recorded a radio play entitled
Statement in Full,
and then on 2 September she was asked to travel to Atlantic City for the world premiere of
Monkey Business.

Unfortunately, a mixture of Marilyn’s lateness and traffic problems forced the star and her entourage to miss the 9.00 a.m. train, much to the dismay of the studio, who had to charter a plane to get to Atlantic City on time. The plane apparently cost Fox $800, although when questioned, she later retorted, ‘It didn’t set the studio back as much as they let on. They could afford it.’ Taking the plane meant that Marilyn arrived just three minutes later than originally planned, with the Mayor and members of the public there to meet her before she was whisked off to several publicity appearances, including riding in an open-topped car and attending the premiere itself at the Stanley Theater, where she said a few words about the film in the intermission.

Another event planned for that day was a photo session with four ladies from the armed forces. Seeing that Marilyn was wearing a low-cut dress, an enterprising photographer stood on a chair and aimed his camera right down the front of it. Nobody thought anything about the incident at the time, until an Army
Public Information Officer saw the image and demanded that it should not be used due to its revealing nature. This was enough to drum up a huge amount of interest in the photo, which forced Marilyn to release a statement saying, ‘I am surprised and hurt. People looked at me all day – I thought they were admiring my Grand Marshall’s badge.’

After that, Marilyn was bombarded by letters from women, sending her bras and underwear with notes saying, ‘You need these more than I do.’ Marilyn thought this was funny and encouraged the comments by declaring, ‘Girdles and bras are unnatural. They distort a girl so. So I never wear them!’ However, years later she admitted that this wasn’t quite accurate: ‘I was once credited with having made such a remark in an interview. If I did say that and it was true then it was probably just a very hot day.’

Women also started writing to accuse Marilyn of putting the country into a worse state than it already was. ‘They accuse me of starting the rapes. Rapes went on long before I came,’ she was to say, before reflecting, ‘It’s a little dull when [women] don’t make remarks isn’t it?’

A little time later, Marilyn wrote an article entitled ‘Am I too daring’, in which she thought hard about the comments attributed to her by other women: ‘All of my adult life I have preferred to dress for men rather than for women. For this reason, I suppose, I cannot expect other women to appreciate or even like my clothes. But I do and I was hurt by the accusation that I have no taste in my manner of dress.’ And slightly later: ‘I’m beginning to feel like a piece of statuary that people are inspecting with a magnifying glass; looking for imperfections – taking apart my dress, my voice, my figure, my acting – everything about me.’

She began to wonder why she didn’t have female friends in her life, expressing to
Photoplay
that, ‘I’ve never in my life had girls talk – never talked about men, woman to woman . . . I want women friends . . . If you had even one girl friend with whom you could discuss all your innermost thoughts I do believe it would be very comforting.’

On 15 September 1952, Marilyn moved once again, this time to 2393 Castillian Drive, which she leased from landlord Frank Klein Archer. Joe DiMaggio became an almost permanent feature in the home, and would often invite friends and family to share meals and evenings together. For the first time in many years, Marilyn began to feel fairly settled and took great joy in learning how to cook steak, toss salad and make a mean spaghetti.

Still, all was not perfect, as Natasha Lytess disliked Joe intensely, feeling that the baseball star was threatening her position in Marilyn’s life. He was, she said, ‘a man with a closed, vapid look’, and when she phoned Marilyn shortly after the first meeting, DiMaggio apparently answered the phone and told her that if she wanted to speak to the actress, she would need to contact her agent. According to Lytess, she told Marilyn she never wanted to be treated like that again, but the star didn’t have the courage to stand up to Joe about it. Lytess also claimed that Marilyn would phone day and night – sometimes in tears – complaining about the way DiMaggio misused her.

Certainly on 1 October it was reported that Joe was having custody issues with his ex-wife, Dorothy Arnold, and the relationship with Marilyn had cooled. ‘It’s hard for me to discuss,’ she told reporters. ‘Perhaps later things can be worked out. Right now we’re not seeing each other.’ The separation was short-lived, however, and by the time Thanksgiving came round, they were back together and enjoying a meal with their friend Bernie Kamber.

Marilyn was extremely busy towards the end of 1952, and after recording an episode of the Charlie McCarthy radio show on 18 October, she began preparing for her role in
Gentlemen Prefer Blondes,
attending costume tests on 31 October, and then moving into the Beverly Hills Hotel. She also began thinking seriously about her future, and on 24 November, reporter Aline Mosby ran a story that stated Lytess was convinced the actress could one day win an Academy Award: ‘I think tragic roles are her forte. There is a strangeness about her . . . an unreal quality,’ she said.

To the same reporter, Marilyn had the following, despondent view on how her life was shaping up at the time: ‘I’m trying to find myself now, to be a good actress and good person. Sometimes I feel strong inside but I have to reach in and pull it up. You have to be strong inside way deep inside of you. It isn’t easy. Nothing’s easy, as long as you go on living.’

Part of her plan to become a better person involved a trip to the Goldenberg Galleries on 3 December, in order to bid on a collection of Max Reinhardt notebooks. It had been Lytess who had encouraged her student to take an interest in the German theatrical producer, and after bidding against Jake Zeitlin from the University of Southern California (USC), she managed to win the collection for $1,335, which included 178 manuscript books full of personal notes of dialogue, action and scenery.

In the years since, it has been widely believed that Marilyn bought the notebooks for herself, but was later ‘forced’ to hand them over after pressure from Max Reinhardt’s son and various universities. This is not true. From the beginning Marilyn had every intention of donating the collection to a ‘worthy’ university, as reported in the
Pottstown Mercury
on 5 December 1952.

As soon as they heard about the donation, several universities contacted her to express their interest; USC was particularly interested, as they already had 3,000 Reinhardt items and the additional notebooks would complete the collection. Librarian Lewis F. Stieg conveyed his desire to newspapers almost immediately, prompting Marilyn to release a statement on 6 December which declared that she intended to stand by her original plan to give the books to the worthiest bidder. ‘Certainly Dr Stieg has made a case for USC,’ she said, ‘but I must study the applications of other schools which want them. I will not consider giving them to any of the museums which also want them because such institutions could not make them of use to drama students.’

Making a decision about the notebooks was a thrill for Marilyn at first, but by 13 December it had become a chore. When asked by reporters, she declared that the collection had
become ‘a Jonah to me. So many schools want them I hardly know what to do.’ The University of Kansas had joined the list by then, and USC tried a new tactic by sending an invitation from Lewis Stieg to Marilyn, asking her to join him in his box at the Rose Bowl football game on New Year’s Day. Marilyn was not moved, however, and turned him down flat, before she and Natasha continued to assess the situation.

By 6 January 1953, Marilyn was heavily involved in
Gentlemen Prefer Blondes
and she had had enough of the whole Reinhardt situation. She released a statement saying, ‘I feel that placement of the books should be the decision of Mr Reinhardt’s son, Mr Gottfried Reinhardt. He insists on reimbursing me for the auction price.’

Marilyn spent Christmas with DiMaggio, who unexpectedly showed up at her hotel room on Christmas Eve with a tree and presents. After that she gave her full attention to the making of
Gentlemen Prefer Blondes,
which had begun shooting earlier that month.

Directed by Howard Hawks and co-starring Jane Russell as Dorothy Shaw, Marilyn played the part of Lorelei Lee, a gold-digging blonde who has snared an innocent millionaire played by George Noonan. Dorothy meanwhile, is a romantic at heart, who falls in love with Ernie Malone, a private detective hired to spy on Lee by her future father-in-law. The film is witty and colourful but the greatest part is the on-screen chemistry between the two stars – Marilyn and Jane.

From the start, the media found great joy in trying to set up a rivalry between the two women, with various rumours of which star was demanding what privilege, and even going so far as to ask Russell if she could start a ‘fight’ and tell the newspapers about it afterwards. The supposed ‘feud’ actually amazed both women, and Russell was quick to defend Marilyn to the media: ‘Marilyn is not a girl you can feud with. She is too busy doing the best job she can before the cameras. Her sincerity is impressive and her willingness to listen to and take advice is one of her outstanding qualities.’

In fact, the two got on so well that Russell actually had a pet name for Marilyn – ‘The Round One’ – while Marilyn defended her co-star when she had to do an imitation of her towards the
end of the film: ‘Why should this bother me?’ she asked friends, ‘I know Jane wouldn’t do anything that would hurt me.’ This was backed up by make-up artist, Allan ‘Whitey’ Snyder, who remembered: ‘I know the friendship and support of Jane Russell was special to her. She often commented on what fun it was being with Jane. Jane seemed to understand her.’

Jane Russell was earning $150,000 for her part, while Marilyn was restricted to $750 a week, which she assured reporters was not a problem. What was a dilemma, however, was that she couldn’t get a dressing room. Every time she asked for one, she was told, ‘Remember, you’re not a star,’ which understandably aggravated her a great deal. In the end, she decided to be firm: ‘Look,’ she said, ‘This is
Gentlemen Prefer Blondes
and I am the blonde. Whatever I am, I am the blonde!’ The executives eventually relented, and she was presented with her very own dressing room, which had once belonged to the other star on the lot – Betty Grable.

Gentlemen Prefer Blondes
boasted a variety of musical numbers, including ‘Little Girls from Little Rock’ and ‘When Love Goes Wrong’, but the biggest of them all was ‘Diamonds Are a Girl’s Best Friend’, which Marilyn performed with a host of male dancers. One of them was future Oscar-winner George Chakiris, who was very impressed by Marilyn’s dedication to her role: ‘I have the loveliest first impression of Marilyn. She was a darling – sweet, quiet and hardworking, and dedicated above and beyond the call of duty. She cared at a level that went beyond what we usually see.’