My Week with Marilyn (35 page)

The BP
⁷²
needs a long throw and powerful arc lamps. These are noisy. They hiss away and get extremely hot. If you even glimpse
one straight on you are blind for half an hour. So they have to be quite far from the camera and the microphone. Setting them up is a complicated business, and so is the art of balancing the light between the actors in the room and the light projected on the screen behind them. There were considerable delays while adjustments were made. Two totally competent actors (Dicky Wattis and David Horne) went through their lines again and again. Sounds familiar? Of course this is what happens every day, but for once it was not MM's fault. It was a piece of antiquated lighting equipment, which makes a pretty unconvincing picture at the end of the day. Does anyone complain? Not a soul. Just because the antiquated lighting equipment didn't flounce off to a mobile dressing room, shaking its fingers? Technical matters, and especially lighting matters, are above criticism – out of bounds. If you dare question what is going on you get dark looks, scowls and murmurs of union displeasure. It is as if we were ruled by some secret society, with its own rules into which we must never enquire. And indeed that is true. The Electricians' Union is above any question or criticism, yet it can bring the whole studio to a halt at a moment's notice. Everyone behaves as if technical mysteries are so mysterious that only technicians can understand them. Absolute nonsense! It is all simple and basic. All this mystery is just to hide laziness and incompetence, to make sure that three men are hired to do the job of one. The art of acting is far more mysterious, yet every technician feels free to criticise MM. They damn her every time she has an attack of nerves, as if it was
she
who was lazy and incompetent. It is MM who really lights up the screen, and not some engineers fiddling with switches. But of course I could never say this in public, not even to David.

More Foreign Office. The scene seems dry as dust. This is partly intentional – the stuffy old Foreign Office having to cope with exotic Balkan Grand Dukes. But the main problem is that the scene does
not contain MM. SLO playing Oedipus and Hamlet simultaneously wouldn't generate as much excitement as MM on screen. Drugged, confused, frightened, late, vague, maddening as she can be, she changes any scene from night to day. Without her, we are all just technicians arguing about our unimportant little problems. Even dear Dicky W can only add to a scene, not create one.

There is no denying that MM has problems. She is herself one gigantic problem. But she is also the solution! As long as she can get to the studio and walk onto the set, it is worth everything to film her. This plump, blonde(?) young lady with the big eyes is certainly very hard to control. Right now she is almost too much for a young, smart producer (Milton), a top playwright and intellectual (AM), America's foremost dramatic coaching couple (the Strasbergs) and England's best actor/director (SLO). MM is just a force of nature. That is sort of wonderful for us, to watch and be associated with, but it must be very uncomfortable for her. I wonder if Garbo was like this, or Chaplin. Vivien is a force of nature too, but she is so formidably intelligent that, to some extent, she can control it. MM does not have that power – and even Vivien can lose it sometimes, come to think of it.

Plod called first thing. Lee Strasberg had arrived yesterday from New York, to take personal charge of MM's performance in the film. MM wasn't coming in today, but Lee Strasberg was!

‘Well done, Plod.' Spies are useful. Even half an hour's warning is better than total surprise. I ran to SLO's dressing room with the news.

Predictably SLO exploded. ‘Paula's bad enough. I'm the f — ing director of this f — ing film. Call Milton. I'm the f — ing producer too. I won't allow Lee Strasberg on the set. Call the studio police, and have him stopped at the gate. F — him.'

I had already squeezed in a call to Tibbs, and Milton was on his way.

‘Send him in here as soon as he arrives. He can go to the main gate and explain. Why is Lee here, for Christ's sake?'

Me: ‘Perhaps MM has asked him to come.'

‘Well she can't have him, at least not in my studio.'

This was not the moment to remind him that MM was an equal partner.

‘We are only halfway through this f — ing movie. This will make it impossible to finish. I can't direct with so many people interfering' etc., until Milton arrived.

‘Milton, dear boy, this is a very expensive film we are making. We aren't a bunch of psychoanalysts trying to sort out Marilyn's mental health. WE ARE MAKING A FILM. I can't work with Lee Strasberg on the set. I can't even work with Paula Strasberg on the set. We agreed she would stay in Marilyn's dressing room, if you remember. I am the only director allowed on the set. Understood?' Milton shrugged gloomily. ‘Well, dear boy, run along and explain that to Lee. He'll be arriving at the main gate any minute – COLIN!'

‘Yes, Sir Laurence.'

‘Oh, there you are.' I'd been making myself as small as possible about three feet away in the same room. ‘Go and get Jack and Tony and David. We'll plan the day without Marilyn. It's just as well she isn't coming in. Then Lee can't interfere.'

I rushed off. I have to be very careful with these messages. It is
not
a good idea to arrive on the set, out of breath and clearly in possession of important news no one else has. I have to sidle up to each recipient in turn, tell them the message as if it was specially sent to them alone by SLO. Each one says: ‘Have you told Jack? or David? or Tony?' and I indicate that they will be next on the list, even if I've already told them. Only when all of them know can I dash over to Dicky and Paul and burst out with the latest gossip.

Today we have a new set in StudioB — a small sitting room of the Embassy, downstairs, leading off the Grand Hall. It has an attractive garden at the rear, completely false, of course, with a summer house. There was a lot of preparation going on. Carmen and Dario
like to keep adding things up to the last minute, thereby driving Elaine crazy. Elaine actually never loses her cool manner (but she does get very severe).

By lunchtime SLO and Tony B were quite cheerful. Milton had warned Lee, and Lee had been upset but contrite. He had rushed across the Atlantic at MM and Paula's frantic bidding only to realise, in the cold light of an English October morning, that there is no magic wand where MM is concerned. The truth is that MM is unhappy here. She no longer thinks that the film will transform her career from dumb blonde to serious actress (as if . . .). She doesn't trust SLO, or think that she can learn anything from him (this is probably true). She has mixed feelings about Milton, and suspects his motives (wrongly I think). She is not even that happy with AM and looks as if she thinks he isn't really in love with her (also probably true). She does not even know what she does want, so how can Lee give it to her? Lee is a really clever man. I met him outside the star entrance and we had a long chat while he was waiting for the car (which had immediately returned to Parkside, like a brainless homing pigeon). I asked him about Susie and told him what a fan of hers I was. (She came over with him and is staying at the Dorchester.)

I said if he could just persuade MM to finish the film, which is halfway through, then everyone could relax and be happy again. Luckily he agreed. Seven more weeks of hard work seems a lot, but he is sure MM will do it. He is only staying two nights, but Susie is staying two weeks, so I am sure to meet her. (Currently one of my life's ambitions!) I think Lee's visit has been ‘cathartic' and may actually help quite a lot. It has allowed everyone to put their cards on the table. He is one of the few intelligent people who can get through to MM, and he doesn't have an axe to grind. We'll see.

MM did come in this morning, and quite bright and cheerful she was, if a little forced. So far so good. She always likes a new set too.
Today we were out in the garden, with Jeremy whom she still (just) gets on with, so we were all full of fresh hope. The garden has a nice sunny feel to it when the lights are on, but to achieve this effect means more light than usual and therefore more heat. MM had to wear the raincoat over her dress in these scenes, and that meant she perspired a lot, and had to change clothes a lot,
⁷³
with consequent delays. Nothing is easy in the film business. But MM's nerve held. Jeremy was as charming as usual and SLO was in a more confident mood. He felt he had achieved a victory over the Strasbergs, and this he badly needed. He became more avuncular with MM, and not so tense and tetchy, which I am sure she appreciated.

After lunch, who should appear but Susan Strasberg. I have always been looking forward to meeting her more than meeting MM. Even seeing MM in the nude had left me cold – well not exactly cold, to be honest, but not in love. But Susie had stolen my heart, in her movie. Susie is not exactly pretty, but she is luminously beautiful. She has huge brown eyes, a very full mouth with a wide grin, and skin so pale that it is almost translucent. She arrived on the set with Paula, looking like a real little star. Luckily Paula and I have always got along – I've made sure of that – and I've made no secret of my admiration for Lee, so I got a very good introduction: ‘This is Colin, who has been so helpful. He's the son of the Lord, Kenneth Clark.' (Americans never understand English titles.) I was completely tongue-tied and could only gulp, as usual. Susie was enchanting.

‘I love film studios. Do show me round. Marilyn won't be ready for ages.' (True.)

The film crew watched in amazement as their 3rd Ast Dir gulped off into the distance with this ravishing little creature. In fact she was so nice to me that by the end of the day I had bucked up courage to ask her to have dinner with me, and been invited to come to the Dorchester next Tuesday evening.

Having said all this, I have to admit that Susie is out of my league.
She's a Star. She's used to mixing with Stars, like William Holden, and although she is no older than me (or younger?
⁷⁴
), I can only relate to her the way I do to Vivien. Adoration and devotion, but embraces are unthinkable. Even so, I am very excited. I can dream of it even if I can't think of it.

Jack and Mrs C are invited for the night at Saltwood this weekend, so I will drive down there immediately after work tomorrow.

I got to Saltwood too late for dinner on Friday night and had to go to the pub for sausage rolls. The Castle Arms is not to be recommended for its food, but if I asked for a late supper at home the servants would all give notice. M and D were very sweet and understanding about the Cardiffs' visit. Papa even said that he had heard of Jack (from
The Red Shoes
) and was looking forward to meeting him. When they arrived on Saturday at noon, they were immediately taken round the garden by Mama. Not many flowers, but the roses are pretty on a good second showing. It was sunny and the castle always looks impressive in the autumn. Jack and Mrs C are really charming. They were both very appreciative and Mama was delighted. Then we had drinks in the drawing room and Jack waxed lyrical about the Renoir until lunch. I could see Mrs C was more taken with the idea of our own cook and butler. M and D, who usually only have guests as sophisticated as themselves, enjoyed the visit thoroughly. In the afternoon, I took the Cardiffs over to Canterbury, which they had not seen. Then in the evening Papa took Jack round the other pictures and over to the Great Hall, while Mama had a good heart to heart with Mrs C. (I dread to think what she told her about me!) After dinner, when Papa had announced ‘Bed for all' and started turning off the lights, I held Jack back and we both stayed in the small library for a whisky and soda. Jack was extremely mellow and
we had a long chat about work. Naturally he is worried. He can see that MM is driving SLO nuts, and this is having a bad effect on the production as a whole. This is a very important film for him.

Then Jack told me a secret. Evidently, a couple of weeks after filming started, MM found an open notebook on AM's desk at Parkside. In it, AM had written some pretty bad stuff about MM  – how disappointed he was by her etc. MM had been absolutely shattered. No wonder she took pills and came on set as Ophelia instead of Elsie Marina. I guessed that AM didn't love her enough. Whatever he felt, he shouldn't have written it down and left it for MM to discover like that. Jack had comforted MM as best he could.

Jack told me this to show how deeply he was in MM's confidence. I wish she could have told SLO. It might have made it easier for him to understand her behaviour. But now it is definitely too late. If SLO heard what AM had written he would just say ‘She's a disappointment to me too!'

Nevertheless I did ask Jack to share everything with me in the future. I am the only person who picks up all the little bits of information and can put it to SLO when I know he will listen. If he explodes at me it doesn't matter. He never stays angry for long. Of course I will never tell SLO anything unless Jack agrees, but at least he and I can talk over the problems. I only have SLO's interests at heart. Jack is more concerned with the film, but it is SLO's film, so we all have the same purpose in the end. Jack and I went to bed firm friends and that must be a good thing.

When I got back here, Tony broke it to me that he and Anne are giving up this house in two weeks' time. Somehow I had assumed that they had it for the duration of the film, but they don't want the responsibility in the winter. I can't blame them.

They have been wonderfully tolerant of me. I have used their house like a hotel – and I haven't shown them enough gratitude. Evidently Anne's grown-up son (Ned, I think) is coming back, and they have to be in London. I must find somewhere else round here. I could not do this job if I had to commute from the West End.