My Week with Marilyn (32 page)

Inspired by the success of the dance scene, MM was in a more confident mood than I have seen her for some time. The set was declared ‘closed' (i.e. no spectators) – as if it had ever been open. This was because MM had to sing the whole of the Sleeping Prince Waltz to SLO, in a close two-shot.

It did at least mean a minimum of hangers-on, with no Drapes, Chippies, Plasterers and Props, who are usually hanging around, ‘just in case'. Those who were essential but not absolutely essential – i.e. most people – were kept firmly out of sight. MM was kneeling over SLO on the purple sofa, in the purple room. She had quite a long, difficult speech, leading into the song. SLO was prepared to break it down into two extra shots. Instead of one shot for the whole scene it could have been made up of a close-up of SLO, a close-up of MM, and then the two-shot favouring MM for the song, but this wasn't necessary. Earlier, when the Grand Duke wanted to seduce Elsie Marina, he had arranged for his valet to play the violin in the corridor. Now it was Elsie's turn to seduce the Grand Duke, and she arranged for a veritable orchestra of valets and footmen in the corridor, all waiting to play on her cue.

Close-up Grand Duke (genuinely puzzled): ‘Where's that music coming from?' (He knew he hadn't laid it on this time.)

Two-shot favouring MM. MM giggles: ‘Oh never mind. It's just that Hungarian, I expect.' (She knows now that the ‘Hungarian' had really been the valet.) ‘You told me he plays every night.' She paused and sang the waltz:

‘My sweet . . .' she said and gave SLO a passionate kiss.

It was very good – singing
and
acting, and indeed the scene went on for another couple of speeches. For the first time MM behaved like a trouper. She is really happiest when she sings. Perhaps it is because it is a nice uncomplicated thing to do, something she often does when she is alone, or frightened.

In the previous films she's always seemed a rather reluctant chanteuse, but not this time. I should add that she didn't have to sing the final version. Today's voice will not be in the film – that will be ‘post-synched' in the sound studio much later. But her lip movements today will be vital so she had to sing properly, nonetheless. And she did, in fact, give a performance which impressed everyone. What a pity SLO can't build on this, but it is really too late. After lunch, things weren't quite so easy. MM had to declare her passion – ‘Oh gosh, your Grand Ducal Highness, how I love you' – and throw herself into his arms. Then they were interrupted by the hapless Dicky W, once again with a phoney excuse, this time on the Duke's behalf.

I don't know if MM had had a drink in the break, or a pill, or both. (MM loves champers but she does not ever drink too much on its own.) Anyway she seemed to be on another plane. She was jolly enough, but communication got more and more difficult. By the end of the day, when she had only one close-up left to do, she had become wistfully sad – and completely lost. Her only line was ‘I didn't quite catch that' – referring to the Duke's declaration of love in Carpathian – but even that was almost impossible for her to say. The hair got tousled, the red rashes came and went. Then, suddenly, she got it right, like catching a butterfly in mid-flight. I do see why directors dread working with her, poor lady. You never know
which
MM you will get next – or how long it might take to get anything at all.

They have finished building the Grand Duke's dressing room, which leads into the purple room. This means there are a lot more scenes we can now shoot without MM. She did not turn up until lunch, and again she wasn't in very good shape. If she hasn't arrived by 9 a.m., and I haven't been able to learn from Plod when she is due to leave Parkside, I have to go to help David in the studio. I don't know until lunchtime whether she is there or not. It is academic really because she needs to be in Make-up before 9.30 for any work to be done with her before the lunchbreak.

This morning we did the follow-up to the Grand Duke's attempted seduction. Elsie has passed out and four footmen have been summoned to carry her into a bedroom. The sleepy valet, who has been dragged out of bed to play his violin, wanders into the drawing room, still fiddling away, gawping with curiosity. The part is played by a little old Greek actor called Andrea Melandrinos. It was hard to tell whether he was acting or really in a dream. When SLO yelled at him to shut up, he jumped out of his skin exactly like a real servant would have done and the crew dissolved into laughter. Neither he nor SLO could decide whether to be pleased or not by this comic success. The shot had to be done several times, and was never quite so funny again.

In the afternoon we did MM's long silent walk around SLO. He is being shaved by the same valet and is totally preoccupied. Elsie comes out of the bedroom in the background, walks through the purple room, into the dressing room, takes a cup of coffee, walks right round the Grand Duke and returns to the bedroom. She was draped in a pink bedspread, totally dishevelled with her blonde hair (a different wig) hanging loose down her back. The Grand Duke only does a double-take as the bedroom door shuts. For some reason, this scene bothered MM a lot. Perhaps it was a situation with which she could identify all too closely? She had no lines to remember but, in her confused state, even little details like when to collect the cup of
coffee gave her maximum trouble. And, wrapped up as she was, it wasn't easy to carry anything. Although the camera could hardly see her face, her general appearance was frightful. Her walk, however, was unmistakable, especially from behind. If that wiggle of the rear end comes out on camera, the film will be saved!

Finally we did the shot of her collapsed on the bed, under the pink coverlet, where Dicky discovers her and, presumably, wakes her, before that walk. There was nothing anyone could do to make this shot presentable. The truth was that she just looked like a tart, the morning after. It is a very hard thing to define, but I've seen it (to my shame), and SLO could certainly recognise it too. No amount of fussing by drapes and set dressers could alter it. Something in the way MM sprawled on the bed, I guess. We'll see in ‘rushes' tomorrow.

I just can't see how MM can keep this up all week. She looks shattered, washed out, in a dream. LOP and MMP have a huge insurance policy in case SLO or MM are ill. Filming must be stopped for five days before they pay and an independent doctor has to examine the ‘ill' person. Mental illness does not count. Of course this does not apply to MM yet, but SLO had Mr P check the policy because he can see the writing on the wall. The most difficult question is – what will make MM recover her composure? What will help her to start working properly again? AM is not due back for a week. Plod says MM phones him in NYC for hours and hours, but that does not seem to make her any better – sometimes worse! And what if she is pregnant? Suddenly it looks possible that the film will never be finished . . . and we are only four weeks in.

Sure enough, at 10 a.m. we had an official message from Parkside to say MM was not well, and a doctor had been called. I reported this to SLO. He wanted to know which doctor. A local GP? A specialist in nervous diseases? There was quite a difference. I rang Plod and spoke to Hedda. AM had found the name of a London physician
from a friend and had recommended him over the phone. Hedda had arranged for him to call that afternoon. But whatever he says, Hedda thinks that MM will not return to the studio before next Wednesday (Sept 12th). As AM returns from NYC next Tuesday (Sept 11th) this seems a likely guess.

Milton arrived late. He had been to Parkside, and even he had been kept waiting for an hour. He and SLO immediately went into conference, frantically calculating whether a claim could be made on the insurance, and how to get the insurance company to examine MM for a second opinion (some hope!). I do not know if it would be necessary to shut the film down for five days in order for a claim to succeed. Presumably we would all still be paid – by the insurance company. But such an interruption is a horrendous thought. In the meantime, there are cut-away shots to be done with SLO, and scenes in the dressing room with SLO, Dicky, and Jeremy Spenser. Most of these are done very quickly and efficiently, with the only delays being for moving the camera and relighting. But they filled today and will fill tomorrow too. Mr P and Teddy Joseph have arranged for a day on location at the Foreign Office (the real one) for Monday which means a lot of work for the Ast Dirs. The road outside the FO in St James's Park has to be closed from very early in the morning, and filled with horses and carriages and extras dressed as passers-by. Everyone concerned is being very helpful. Even though MM is not going to be there herself, her name alone always works magic.

The dressing-room set is much more sympathetic than the purple room, although it may not be so dramatic on camera. It is a bedroom/ dressing room which must have been quite rare in 1911 in such a large mansion as the Carpathian Embassy in Belgrave Square. Since this script is taken from a play in which all the action took place in one room, and it has been stretched to take place in one house, the rooms must interconnect. SLO has many changes of extremely handsome military-style uniforms – but somehow they do not suit him. He has chosen an ultra-teutonic bearing for the Grand Duke, his short hair
slicked down, his collar buttoned up to his chin and a monocle in his eye. This worked well with Vivien on stage. She knew exactly how to play against it, and she could melt your heart with her combination of bright intelligence and vulnerability. (She certainly melted mine.) But with MM – as naive and well-intentioned as a puppy – the Grand Duke seems stiff to the point of absurdity. He never seems to relax. I don't know if that is in the script or because SLO feels so unhappy. It certainly takes away the romantic appeal and makes Elsie falling in love with the Duke stretch credulity to the limits. We can already see this in the ‘rushes'. Of course Tony B is full of ‘how wonderful Laurence is' but I feel there isn't enough for SLO to get his teeth into. Rather, the role has got its teeth into him. He gives the impression of a director who has walked onto the set and into the leading role. And that isn't make-believe – which is what the film is meant to be about  – it is exactly what has happened.

Another long scene of the Grand Duke being shaved, in his bedroom/dressing room, by Andrea Melandrinos, the valet who played the violin. Since he still behaves exactly like a valet, one must now assume he is a brilliant actor. There is another valet, played by Dennis Edwards, who is tall and thin, and quiet to the point of seeming in another world. When Elsie Marina, wrapped only in a bedspread, did her long walk round the Duke, Dennis was directed to stare in amazement. The trouble is that in the meantime, no one has told Dennis to stop staring in amazement. So all through today's scene, when nothing untoward is happening so far as he is concerned, there he is, still staring in amazement. SLO couldn't see him, of course, because he is acting in the scene, and Tony B did not notice. I must admit that I was not brave enough to point out the problem, so it will be in the movie. It is not the job of the assistant directors to assist the director to direct. Years ago I was
invited, by Vivien I suppose, onto the set of
Caesar and Cleopatra
.
⁶⁴
Gaby Pascal was directing a crowd scene. Caesar's troops had just landed in Alexandria or something, and the people were in a panic. After a couple of takes, I pointed out to Pascal that quite a few of them were just wandering around, looking blank. I now know that this was because he hadn't told them what to do. Extras who are not told what to do wander around and look blank. But my observations were not well received – (I was 12 at the time) – so I didn't risk repeating my mistake. When I am a director . . .

Plod called me over to Parkside for a chat. He could say nothing directly, but he hinted that MM had been pregnant but had now miscarried. The baby must have been no more than a month. This seems very young to be called ‘a baby' but I know nothing about pregnancy, I must admit. Plod is very concerned. He adores MM now, even though she doesn't seem to notice that he exists. (You never know with MM, she has very good peripheral vision.)

‘Does anyone else know?' I asked.

‘Milton Greene, I suppose.'

‘Does Arthur?'

‘I don't think so, no.'

So much for marriage!

I went over to Tibbs Farm to check it out. When I arrived, Milton and Amy were in a dreadful state. Josh, their son, had fallen out of their car as they were going down the driveway. A doctor was with him, but, amazingly, he wasn't hurt, just very shocked. Poor little guy. For once Milton wasn't remotely concerned with MM. They assumed that I had heard the news about Josh, and come over to
sympathise about that. So I said nothing about Plod's news and I never will. I just hope MM recovers. She must have had a pretty bad shock too, if Plod is right.

I haven't written for a whole week and I feel bad about it. We've had a very difficult five days in the studio. It is dark outside when I arrive at 6.45 a.m. – dark, cold and depressing. The addition of the Grand Duke's dressing room to the purple room did not give us the boost I hoped for.

Jack Harris, the editor, has started to visit every day which makes SLO nervous. There is nothing so bad as finding you have a gap in the film which can't be covered by another shot. If actors hesitate, or click with their teeth or let their eyes flick off-camera it can look very embarrassing when blown up on the screen. When you watch ‘rushes' you see so many mistakes and overlaps that it is easy to miss the ones that you can't cover. Only the editor can tell this, as he starts to build up the ‘rough cut'. Retakes are very expensive, because you can't afford to keep all the big sets built, ‘just in case'. So Jack has to be absolutely sure that all is well before the purple set is destroyed. We will certainly store a small corner of it and then we will have something in reserve.