My Week with Marilyn (27 page)

Many of the people in the studio today were finishing up the set for tomorrow. The first set to be filmed — but not the first scene in the story of course – is the private drawing room of the Carpathian Embassy. SLO plays the Grand Duke, the Regent of Carpathia, and in this drawing room he will try to seduce the showgirl, Elsie Marina, MM. Also built is the Queen Dowager's sitting room, so that Dame Sybil's scenes can be shot as soon as possible.

The art director is a small intense lady with short grey hair, cut like a man's. She is Carmen Dillon, who has done many similar
films. She works with a set dresser called Dario Simoni. Together with Roger Furse, they are responsible for the ‘look' of the whole film. They are all completely professional, and only think about the scenery, and the props, and the costumes. They didn't even glance at MM when she walked in to look at the set for a moment last week, even though MM was quite excited by the whole thing.

This professionalism pervades the entire crew. In fact I am sure that they are all extremely proud of it. But I don't find it exactly ‘welcoming' and I'm sure MM won't either. A top actor like Dicky Wattis will take it for granted. A director like SLO will insist on it, but a stranger, a foreigner, a ‘new girl' like MM may be put off by it. I know I am. I admire and envy all their skills but it is possible to be human too, isn't it?

Anyway we did a couple of early shots which gave SLO and David a chance to get to know the crew before MM makes her very considerable presence felt. I had to stay until last so I only just got back here in time for Anne's dinner.

Tony B is buoyant for a change. This certainly means that SLO is optimistic, despite the omens. I expect he is happy to be working in a studio again, on a ‘closed' set (no visitors) where Vivien's social demands have to take second place.

I left Runnymede at 6 a.m. sharp. Quite cool – no traffic on the road, so I was at Pinewood before 6.25. One sleepy guard who couldn't care less. After 20 minutes of pacing up and down outside the star dressing rooms, a black hire car arrived bearing . . . Dame Sybil.

‘Oh Colin. How kind of you to meet me. Dear me, you look cold.' (I was.) And she is over 70. I called make-up and hair and settled her in a warm dressing room. Five minutes later came Gilman in the Bentley, carrying SLO.

‘Hello boy. Marilyn arrived yet?'

‘Not yet, Sir Laurence.'

‘Well wait here until she does and let me know directly.'

He is an optimist. At 7.05 Dicky Wattis arrived in a London taxi. With him was Paul Hardwick who will play the Embassy Major Domo. At 7.15, Milton Greene.

‘Hi Colin. Is she here yet?' Who is he kidding? Then a long wait. I remain poised outside on the pavement. David emerged from the studios.

‘What's going on? I thought you had a contact in her house. Have you phoned yet?'

‘Not yet.'

‘Phone.'

Plod answered. ‘We are due to leave right now. We've been on standby for 10 minutes. Paula is here. She and Hedda are waiting too.'

Report to David. ‘ETA, 8.15.'

Report to SLO (being made up) and Milton. ‘ETA, 8.15.'

Scowl.

At 8.30 MM arrives with Paula. Plod, carrying her bag, winks. MM wears dark glasses, beige nylon scarf, slacks.

‘Good morning, Miss Monroe.'

‘Oh, hi.'

Whitey is already in her dressing room. He has been there for nearly two hours. Everyone but Paula is firmly shut out. I report to SLO again.

Now I must make a note: 8.30 a.m. arrival at the studio means 11 a.m. on the set. It just isn't possible to hurry the Make-up – Hair – Costume sequence. Even if one could it might upset MM and then where would we be? Well, where? I expect we'll find out, sooner or later.

SLO had expected MM to be late and had planned ‘cut-away' shots to use up the time.

The main scene of the day was Dame S — the Grand Duke's mother-in-law – greeting MM – the showgirl – in that purple drawing room. Jack had lit the stand-ins by 9 a.m. and by 9.30 Dame S and Dicky W were waiting on the set in full costume.

SLO offered profuse apologies but they didn't seem to mind.

‘Poor dear. I expect she's nervous,' said Dame S.

‘I expect so,' said Dicky dryly, but SLO did not get the point.

We shot a ‘reaction' on Dicky, eyebrows up in mock surprise, and then I went to check on MM. As I was waiting outside her dressing-room door, she suddenly burst out, with Paula, Milton and Whitey surrounding her, like warders with a violent prisoner. They all swooped off in the wrong direction down the corridor, until I could run and catch up. When I got them into Studio A, they all bolted straight into the ‘portable' dressing room on the set and slammed the door. This left Bumble, grinding her teeth and curling her lock of hair, MM's dresser (skinny, rather sexy), a hairdresser and a make-up assistant all marooned on the outside rather wondering what to do.

When they were eventually admitted it must have been like the ‘And two hard-boiled eggs' scene from the Marx Bros.
⁵²
The answer was to expel Paula and Milton but that is not so easy.

Finally at 11.30 a.m., MM did emerge, fully dressed and looking, I am bound to say, ravishing. What a beautiful creature she is, to be sure. Paula whispered in her ear, and she walked straight on to the set.

No apologies to Dame S for a two-hour wait. But Dame S could see that it was quite an act of courage to be there at all and gave her a warm welcome.

‘QUIET STUDIO. Going for a take. Hit the lights.'

The whole sequence began without SLO giving MM any direction, let alone MM asking for it. I suppose he just thought he would see what happened. He was sitting quietly behind the camera, in full costume as he was in the next shot.

‘Action.'

Dame Sybil's performance is rock steady and flawless. All MM had to do was remember her lines.

When, by take 8, she had done this, we had a ‘print' and MM's first shot was ‘in the can'.

What a relief for us all, not least her.

Between takes MM cannot lie down, or even sit. Bumble's gorgeous dress does not allow for that. So MM has a strange white resting board with armrests on which she can relax. She dashes to this on every possible occasion, flicking her fingers up and down in the air. She has been taught this trick as a ‘tension reliever' by one of the Strasbergs. It does not look very effective to me, and it gives her the appearance of being in a flap.

Paula's lips are never more than two inches from her ear, muttering and whispering continuously. Not unnaturally, SLO has a hard time coming to terms with this. He wants to talk to MM about the next shot, but it is hard for him to interrupt. I'm sure he had originally expected her to rush to him, and lap up his words of wisdom etc. Not a chance.

I hover equidistant from him and David while Jack re-lights as quickly as he can. During re-lighting, MM retreats to her mobile dressing room and once again the door is slammed. This time SLO knocked and walked in. Through the gap I could see a determined Paula trying to shield him from MM but he took no notice and shut the door behind him. David called ‘the half' — union-ese for delaying lunch for half an hour – and we did another shot.

After lunch we did two more set-ups, and then David called ‘That's a wrap, gentlemen,' signalling enough for the day.

We were all exhausted. MM got straight into her car with Whitey and Paula. Whitey will remove her make-up at Parkside and, I hope, calm her down. SLO and Milton retired to SLO's dressing room for ‘a conference', and I could hear angry voices. I think SLO wants to nip ‘this idiotic behaviour' in the bud. The trouble is that Milton does too, but he doesn't know how.

I went to the bar for a drink.

Thank goodness for Tony and Anne. I don't think I could have driven all the way back to London. I'm completely whacked. But I've sworn I will write this diary every night and that's going to be a good discipline.

Has anyone told MM that she's meant to be at the studios at 6.45 a.m.? Perhaps no one has dared? Perhaps it wouldn't make a scrap of difference?

I wonder what the usual time is in the USA. She turned up at 8.30 again this morning, quite jolly, and I even got a smile. But 8.30, early though it is in normal circumstances, is 1¾ hours late for us. Once again, we couldn't start filming with MM until 11.30. All the other actors have to be called for 9.00 on the set, just in case MM does turn up on time, and there are only so many shots we can shoot without her.

Lunch is almost due by 11.30 so David had to ‘call the half' again. For some reason this annoys the crew. I know they are hungry but it's more than that. It is as if management was taking advantage of them in some way. ‘Calling the half' is meant to be the exception, not the rule.

At least we all have time to explore the set and get to know each other. As usual I popped up to see my little Wdg. She is so pretty that I can't resist her, but she is also so silly that I jolly nearly can. I asked her for a date on Saturday.

‘Of course,' she giggled. Of course. Already? Hmm.

Then I nearly brought the studio out on strike.

Dame Sybil was on the set in full costume and I asked her whether she would like to sit down.

‘Why yes,' she said, ‘let us all sit down,' so I went for her chair. Everyone froze.

‘Are you a member of NATKE?' or some such bunch of union initials, asked some nameless man in overalls.

‘No.'

‘Chairs is Props. Props is NATKE. If ACT members (and I'm not even that yet) is going to do NATKE jobs, we're off.' They all grumbled and rumbled in agreement.

David stepped in to calm them down. ‘Colin is a new boy,' etc.,
and put in a humble, official request for the chair for Dame Sybil, which took 10 minutes to fetch from the ‘Prop' department (and should have been there from the beginning).

Now I know why it is so hard to sit down in a film studio! And they went on about what I had done all day. But Dame S is as bright as a lark, no matter what happens, and gossips away with Dicky W. They are a real theatrical pair.

The set is the drawing room on the first floor of the Embassy. Even allowing for the difference between Carpathian taste and mine, I find it completely hideous. Dreadful purples and mauves everywhere. But it is an effective background for the long white evening dress which MM will wear in every scene. I suppose Roger F was thinking of this when he designed it.

When MM is all made up by Whitey, in that sparkling outfit with her blonde wig, she really does shine like a star.

After we had done another four shots today (of the five that were planned – not so bad) we all went to see the film that had been printed from yesterday's material (the ‘rushes').

It was only the best takes – two of each shot for comparison – but we were enraptured, all over again. The fluffs and the lapses of memory were forgotten. MM looked sublime and even acted old Dame S off the screen. She looks far more natural and less ‘stagey'. SLO looked wooden and uncomfortable by comparison, although this is partly his role as Grand Duke. One can't tell anything about the film from one day's shooting, but one thing is for sure. You just can't take your eyes off MM.

SLO was still grim. I think he senses loss of control on many fronts. Well, he is nearly 50, poor man.

Now I know the secret of Paula's control over MM . . . total, abject sycophancy, continual flattery, blatant pandering to every nerve-end.
‘Drama Coach' – phooey! It's Lee Strasberg who is the coach. But Paula certainly is an actress.

This morning Plod had reported serious insurrection among the staff at Parkside. I decided to go to talk to them, and to offer them a little more of MM's money, so at the end of the day I went back there in the front of MM's car. Plod had gone back at lunchtime. Of course I could have gone in my own car, but, to be honest, like everyone else in the world it seems, I couldn't resist getting more of MM's company. Anyway I don't think Paula minded. Nor did she notice that the glass division in the car was down.

As soon as we drove out of the studio gates she started: ‘Marilyn, you were wonderful. You are the most wonderful actress I have ever known in my life, Marilyn. You are superb, Marilyn, you are divine.'

At this even MM demurred a little, and in truth she was not good today, having great trouble to remember even the simplest line. We had only completed two scenes.

Paula went straight on: ‘Yes, Marilyn, you are a great, great actress. All my life, Marilyn, I have prayed for a great actress who I could help and guide. All my life, Marilyn, I have prayed on my knees.'

There was a bump and I sneaked a look. Paula was now on her knees on the carpet of the car.

‘. . . prayed on my knees for God to give me a great actress. And now He has given me you, and you are that great actress, Marilyn. You are . . .' all the way back to Parkside.

I was curled up with embarrassment, trying by sign language to get the chauffeur to put up the glass division, but he was much too stupid to notice – or to listen to what was going on. Paula was like a hypnotist on stage – you can't believe it will work, but it does. Gradually I could see MM relax, and regain the self-confidence which SLO and his gang had drained from her.

When we arrived I jumped out and opened the door. ‘You really are great, Miss Monroe,' I said, and I meant it.

‘Why thank you, Colin,' she said with a dazzling smile.

I didn't know that she'd noticed me, let alone remembered my
name. I floated into the house and agreed to all the servants' demands – more money as I thought. I'll square Milton later.