Authors: Michelle Morgan
The incident once again caused a great deal of trauma in Marilyn’s already fragile personal life, and it was around this time she was introduced to a $25-an-hour psychiatrist, Dr Judd Marmor. This was to be the beginning of a long and often painful journey into psychoanalysis, which was to last until the very end of her life.
On 8 February 1951, reports surfaced in the newspapers that although Marilyn had been in virtual retirement since the death
of Hyde, she was now due to appear in a Fox movie entitled
A WAC in his Life
(later retitled
Love Nest).
Shortly before shooting began, however, Marilyn took Kazan’s advice once again, and enrolled at university.
She found one course that interested her – ‘Backgrounds of Literature’, which was described by UCLA as ‘Historical, social and cultural aspects of various periods with an introduction to the literature itself’. According to Marilyn’s school record, the course began on 5 April 1951 and was conducted by Ms Claire Soule in room 616 at the UCLA Extension’s Hill Street building, in downtown Los Angeles. Every Thursday she would travel to the building in time for the 7 p.m. start, and would engross herself in her studies until the class ended at 9 p.m., making it home in time to ready herself for her work the next day.
There was only one problem with this situation: while Marilyn deeply enjoyed Ms Soule’s insights into literature and gained much from the course, her star was well and truly on the rise, and she began to be recognized by her fellow classmates. She had, by now, appeared in several high-profile films; she was renegotiating her contract with Fox due to her increasing popularity; and on 29 March she had even presented an Academy Award at the Pantages Theater. Her fellow students started to stare at her, and when Ms Soule asked why, Marilyn told her she acted in films.
This answer shocked the teacher, who replied ‘Why I thought you were a young girl straight out of the convent.’ ‘She was very sincere when she said it,’ laughed Marilyn, many years later. For several weeks after being recognized, she still made the journey to the Extension building, but eventually she decided the recognition was causing too much trouble, and dropped out before the class finished on 31 May.
On 5 May 1951, Marilyn’s relationship with her coach was put under strain when Lytess wrote to her, c/o William Morris, to ask if she would pay $1,000 Lytess owed to her dentist. Marilyn was shocked but agreed to pay the dentist in instalments of $200 per week, which Lytess promised to repay to Marilyn at
a rate of $25 per week. Thankfully for both actress and coach, Marilyn signed a new, renegotiated contract with Fox on 11 May 1951, and began filming a small part in
Let’s Make It Legal,
starring Claudette Colbert and Macdonald Carey.
Marilyn was cast as Joyce Mannering, yet another sexy blonde with little to do or say, but, despite that, she certainly made her presence felt when she was continually late on set and cheekily told director Richard Sale to call Joe Schenck if he had a problem with her behaviour. Sale was not fazed and threatened to call the head of Fox, Zanuck, instead, a move which prompted Marilyn to storm off set, only to return shortly after to apologize for her behaviour.
While Twentieth Century Fox was still wondering how exactly to use Marilyn, she was loaned out to RKO for a part in
Clash by Night,
starring Barbara Stanwyck, Paul Douglas and Robert Ryan. Her friend Sidney Skolsky helped her obtain the part in the film, which revolved around Stanwyck’s character Mae, who marries dependable Jerry (Douglas) and has an affair with his best friend Earl (Ryan). Marilyn played Peggy, the girlfriend of Mae’s brother, and it was by far the best role she had ever played. Although the part was still relatively small, she really made it her own and the performance was nothing less than superb, but still, there were problems on the set – most of which were not of Marilyn’s making.
Firstly, director Fritz Lang seemed to dislike her, and did not appreciate Natasha Lytess being on the set. Also, although the cast was made up of brilliant actors, many of them did not know how to deal with the attention Marilyn was beginning to receive both in the media and from the public. Of particular concern was Paul Douglas, who seemed to cause more than his share of bad feeling on the set: one of the extras thought he seemed intoxicated on several occasions; he objected to Marilyn’s name being above the film titles; and even exploded at her when she called him by his first name.
Still, Marilyn was determined to do her best in the part, and she worked exceptionally hard, as writer Richard Baer
remembered: ‘Marilyn was always on set on time, she wasn’t yet a big star and was very anxious to please. I didn’t think she was at all difficult or demanding and she was concerned about what people thought of her. Sometimes other actors gathered around to watch her scenes because they knew she wasn’t classically trained and they would laugh and smirk. I thought that was unkind, but she wasn’t terribly accomplished and had no real training, which made her easy to ridicule. She was ambitious and determined with her eyes on the goal, and Jerry Wald knew there was something special about her. I have nothing bad to say about this woman at all.’
As mentioned by Baer, some of the actors were less than helpful to Marilyn, and a rather sad example of this was when she was filming a scene in which she had to run down some stairs. She ended up falling down the steps and instead of being concerned for her welfare, various members of the crew found the whole thing highly amusing and actually laughed out loud. Marilyn emerged from the staircase uninjured, and continued shooting her scene, which required a great deal of guts and emotional backbone.
Baer and Marilyn became good friends whilst on the set, and she relied on him to tell her how she looked in the rushes, but he became exasperated when she refused to trust him enough to give out her telephone number or address. She would call him many times and the two would discuss everything from Johnny Hyde to her work on the film, but still she would not cave in to his requests for her address. ‘I would often say, “My hand is aching and my ear is sore from being on the phone, can’t we just do this face to face?” But she would always say, “No.”’
Much of the film was made in the seaside resort of Monterey, California. One eyewitness was Nanciele Finnegan, who was seventeen at the time, and had a front-row seat when the film crew set up camp in her parent’s front yard. Several members of her family were involved in the production: her sister was filmed sitting on the front porch, petting a rabbit; her brother was shown rolling a large tyre down the driveway; and even the
family car, a Model T Ford, was filmed for the huge sum of $50 per day. However, the most amusing contractual obligation was for Nanciele herself, who was paid NOT to appear on camera: ‘What a disappointment to have a contract to not appear in the film,’ she remembered. ‘Still, the money did help to ease the awkwardness involved in having to avoid using the doors or walking by the windows whenever the director yelled, “Action.”
For most of the filming, Marilyn’s trailer was parked outside the Finnegan home, and this gave Nanciele an almost direct line to the actress, who enjoyed speaking with her: ‘I found her very sweet and approachable. Sometimes when waiting for filming to start she’d catch my eye and wink, other times we’d drink Coca-Colas and laugh.’ She also remembers being asked by the cast to join them for a catered meal, but whilst most of the cast were friendly and professional, she wasn’t so impressed with Barbara Stanwyck: ‘She was aloof and avoided the others – including other cast members as well as her fans. She definitely refused autographs. Marilyn made a point of being available to chat with fans and to sign autographs; I wondered at the time if Barbara was going through some personal crisis to appear so cold to both fans and co-workers.’
Once
Clash by Night
was in the can, Marilyn returned to Fox and unsuccessfully auditioned for a part in a film called
Wait Till the Sun Shines, Nellie,
opposite David Wayne. More successful was a test she made for
Night without Sleep,
which she filmed after working on the part with Lytess for days on end. The test was so successful, in fact, that not even Darryl Zanuck could deny that she was good for the part of Nell, a psychotic babysitter, and he offered her the part.
She was thrilled by the chance to do something different, and even decided to move back in with Lytess in order to work on her part at any time of the day or night. She also took to jogging around the back alleys in the early morning to keep herself fit, and began receiving fan mail – mostly from men proposing marriage. She started receiving titles such as ‘Miss Cheesecake’, ‘Miss Pin-up 1951’ and her personal favourite,
‘Miss Flamethrower’, while
Stars and Stripes
magazine voted her the GI’s favourite pin-up, confirmed by the huge amount of mail she was receiving from GIs every day. In order to answer them all, she employed the services of foster-mother Grace Goddard, and even took to sending photos at her own expense, as she felt the studio ones were too small. Fame was at last knocking on her door, and she was determined that her new fans would know how much they meant to her.
When she won a Henrietta Award for best newcomer, Marilyn bought her first expensive evening gown – a red, low-cut, velvet gown which fitted tightly to her knees, before flaring out. It was designed by Oleg Cassini and Marilyn loved it, but when she attended the awards it caused a sensation, with many women declaring it offensive and too extreme. It was the first time her taste in clothes had been subjected to such harsh criticism, but it would not be the last. When she wore a strapless red silk taffeta gown to a party shortly afterwards, the press declared that it was proof she was utterly lacking in taste. Marilyn, however, was defiant. ‘I’m truly sorry, but I love the dress,’ she declared, whilst saying of the Henrietta Awards dress, ‘Frankly I love the gown and wish I had more occasions to wear it.’
One day at the studio an executive stopped and berated her for wearing jeans and a T-shirt to work: ‘An actress should always look her best,’ he declared to the shocked actress. She was to get her own back on the many people who knocked her dress sense, however, when photographer Earl Theisen dressed her in a potato sack, proving once and for all that it didn’t matter what she wore, she would always look terrific. The fans loved it.
While Marilyn’s admirers were learning more and more about the public aspect of her life, the very private details of her health were being well hidden and are still shrouded in mystery today. She continued to suffer badly with endometriosis and Natasha Lytess remembered occasions where Marilyn would literally stop dead and bend over in agony. Her heavy periods interfered with her modelling work, too, as former model and actress Annabelle Stanford remembers: ‘We were doing a shoot
for Bernard of Hollywood in Palm Springs, and Marilyn was lying on her stomach next to the pool. I got my hair wet so the shoot was over for me, and as I walked towards the changing room, I noticed that Marilyn’s period had started all over her pale pink bathing costume. I casually dropped my towel over her bottom, then accompanied her to the bathroom where I helped her to rinse out her costume.’
Although her medical records are sealed, the cheques she wrote in 1950 and 1951 hint at the level of her medical problems at the time: on 5 November 1950 and again on 15 November, cheques were written to a Dr Seligman for the amount of $40 each; then on 26 October 1951, a cheque was made out for the large sum of $200 to a Dr A. Gottsman. Finally, a cheque was written on 9 November 1951 to an unknown doctor, for the sum of $50. It is not possible to confirm what these treatments were for, but it is clear to say that her health was certainly an issue at the time.
Meanwhile, on the advice of Lytess and actor Jack Palance, Marilyn began taking classes with renowned teacher, Michael Chekhov. It was her first introduction to the ‘Method’ acting technique, and it was this early influence that inspired her to look deeper at the process when she moved to New York in 1955.
In public she was still stating that she didn’t mind people thinking of her as a dumb blonde – ‘It has never bothered me because I’ve always known I wasn’t’ – but in private it was driving her to distraction, and she confided to Chekhov that she was tired of fluffy parts with nothing to do or say. She also became upset when the teacher told her she kept getting those parts because of the sexual vibrations she gave off. ‘But I want to be an artist, not an erotic freak,’ she told him.
Chekhov liked his young pupil but couldn’t help becoming more and more frustrated with her lateness and absenteeism in class. Finally, he suggested they stop meeting, after one late arrival too many, and Marilyn was devastated. She wrote him a note to ask him not to give up on her, explaining that she was
only too aware of how much she tested his patience. Of course, the plea worked and Chekhov allowed her to come back to class, on the understanding that she would take her lessons more seriously, which she did, so much so in fact, that she once arrived at his home a day earlier than expected.
By the time
Night without Sleep
began shooting in December 1951, it had been retitled
Don’t Bother to Knock,
and it was to give Marilyn her first starring role. It was completely removed from anything she had ever done before, with the story revolving around one night in a hotel where Marilyn’s character, Nell, is in charge of looking after a little girl. Over the course of the evening, the emotionally disturbed Nell becomes more and more fragile until finally she is completely derailed. Although it was very much Marilyn’s film, the studio were still intent on keeping the actress in her place. Asked later if she got on with her co-star, Richard Widmark, Marilyn retorted, ‘Dick Widmark? They never let me get anywhere near him.’
Marilyn requested once again that Natasha Lytess be on the set, and bombarded Zanuck with letters, begging him to allow the coach to be with her, even going so far as to say that there was no way she could work without her there. Zanuck relented, but it was not a good call, as Lytess felt she had been put on the spot by Marilyn, and even worried that her job at the studio would be put at risk. She was proved right one day when Marilyn told director, Roy Ward Baker, that Lytess was the only person who could help her with a particular scene. The moment it was finished, he headed for the telephone and the coach found herself fired the very next day.