My Week with Marilyn (36 page)

MM arrived quite early this morning and completed a long scene with SLO before lunch! In fairness to her, I must record that she did it well and was really quite professional. This was partly due to her being clear in the head for a change, and partly due to this bit of script being much more suitable to her talents – also for a change. I've always thought that this was a lousy vehicle for MM as well as for SLO.

Rattigan couldn't write the menu on a fish and chip shop blackboard.
The Prince and the Showgirl
is all so light, it's like a sort of ‘in-joke'. If it's Larry or Vivien in the theatre, the audience can join in. But for the film-going public? I very much doubt it.

Today MM had something she could get her teeth into. She had to tease, and she had to control. When the Grand Duke lost patience, and swore in German, she had to slap her hand on the table and cry: ‘Well done. That's the best yet!' She clearly enjoyed it and it showed.

SLO thinks that all the top stars should be able to act anything. Actually everyone else in the film has been carefully chosen to match their roles – Dicky W and Dame S are obvious examples. Did he ever think if this was the
right
role for MM? Did Milton? Was MM consulted on that, or did they all think that as MM was an ‘actress', she could easily play a song and dance girl? That is what she is acting, of course, but what she is
meant
to act is Elsie Marina as created by Rattigan. Where her concept and Rattigan's concept don't fit together the friction causes her (and us) pain. I suppose they all leapt at the chance of Olivier and Monroe in the same film, and then slotted in a script that seemed suitable. There were similar-ish roles for SLO and MM, and only four major sets so it looked quite cheap to make. Olivier also knew exactly how to play it and on whom he could rely to make it work. Roger, Bumble, Tony, and Rattigan himself, Billy Chappell and Addinsell. But did MM read the script and think ‘This is me' or ‘I can impersonate this girl' or ‘I have a deep feeling for this character and long to portray her on film' or indeed anything
at all? Whenever there is a scene which suits her mood, she can do more than we expect. Even in the love scene this afternoon, she surprised us by how well she performed. But if she had spent a few days going through the script before we started with a really sympathetic director, things might be very different now. Those rehearsals were really only for her. The other actors don't need them. It was a smoke screen put up so she wouldn't feel singled out. But in the event, and because the others were so professional, she was made to feel uncomfortable, and the rehearsals had the opposite effect to that intended. It's easy to be wise after the event, but I don't think SLO
thought
enough!

A series of ‘tender' scenes between SLO and MM made for a gradual deterioration of MM's morale and confidence level, and a consequent shortening of SLO's fuse. MM doesn't seem to mind the actual kiss as much as SLO does. It was shot over SLO's shoulder, to favour MM, and SLO does not actually kiss her lips. In all the embraces, he just kisses her between the lips and her chin. (This is a theatrical trick, I suppose. SLO is not the first leading man who cannot stand his leading lady!) MM has probably had more experience of being kissed by someone she doesn't like, or even doesn't know. But SLO gets completely rigid, as if it is agony for him to get so close to her. His performance has been too severe, for my taste, all through the movie. I'm sure royalty were like that in 1911, autocratic and self-centred, but this is a Fairy Story, for heaven's sake, not a historical drama.

I had a long discussion about this with Susie S tonight. She invited me to the Dorchester and when I got to her room, she announced that she didn't want to go out for dinner, and we would eat there. This sounds like a cue for romance, but alas it was not. Susie is a beautiful person – intelligent, sensitive, full of life and fun, but her heart is more mature than mine. It has probably been broken a few times already, and it works on a different level. So we ordered
dinner (the waiter was incredibly rude; so much for the Dorchester) and chatted about the film, and her parents, and all the problems in between. Susie has great insight into MM. She is nearer to MM's age than the rest of them, and must face many similar challenges. The two ‘girls' obviously get on very well. Of course Susie doesn't see the desire for control in her own Mum that drives AM and Milton to distraction. The trouble is that MM simply cries out for someone to control her, and no one can resist trying to do so. She dumps her problems in Paula's lap, and then while the wretched woman is trying to sort them out, MM goes and dumps them on someone else, and they start working on them, and so on.

Susie says that Paula is going back to NYC in a week. Her permit to stay in England will expire soon, and anyway she needs a break. Then all MM's problems will be our problems. Hedda is going back too, but she has never been much help. Susie has promised to come down to Saltwood for the night next Saturday. I feel thrilled. I know I can't remotely possess her but I still can't resist her charm. I stayed up too late tonight but I'm happy. It's my 24th birthday. I didn't tell Susie, though. I want her to think I'm older.

MM was very troubled today. She had the greatest difficulty remembering even the simplest line – again. We were shooting the continuation of the farewell scene and there were some long takes.

‘Oh dear. This time it is up to me to be grown up' gave her a lot of difficulty. She got it in her head that the scene was tragic, and it really isn't written that way.

At one stage, she had to ask: ‘Poor darling, do you feel terribly disconcerted?' This was said tenderly but lightly by Vivien in the play. It is a sort of Rattigan joke because ‘disconcerted' is one of the Grand Duke's favourite words. Poor MM could not get the point. Because she wasn't allowed to play it as a tragedy, she simply failed to remember it. Her frantic hesitation, as she searched her memory
and grabbed the line out of the air, may look like passion. We will see at ‘rushes' tomorrow, but it was the best we could get.

Dame Sybil back, punctual as ever despite her play. It is pitch dark at 6.45 a.m. now and very cold, but the red scarf is still all I need over my jacket.

Dame S had a great scene, sweeping in to the downstairs sitting room, giving MM a photograph and a medal and lots of advice before sweeping out again, with Dicky Wattis and the ladies-in-waiting in her wake. Her line ‘You may kiss me, my dear' reminded me of Papa's story about Empress Eugenie in Menton.
⁷⁵
MM looked as surprised as Papa had been. I think she'd forgotten about that bit, as she had no line to speak, but she managed it well. She still responds to Dame S's uncomplicated warmth of character. After lunch we did Elsie Marina's farewell to the Grand Duke in the hall. She is standing alone in the doorway of the sitting room, and she looked a forlorn figure. I wish we could have ended the filming then. It would have made a nice memory. But there is still a long way to go. The coaches, the Abbey, the Grand Ball and the theatre, not to speak of the exteriors on the ‘lot'.

At least I have found somewhere to live. It is just a room over the pub a couple of miles from here, but I can get supper there too. They've asked if I can help behind the bar! Free beer?

There are two separate sets of scenes in the coaches – each with a back-projection screen to make them look as if they were going along
the road. The first were done in the morning, while MM was getting ready. SLO, Dame S, Jeremy and the Ambassador (who only appears once again and never speaks, poor man) took turns to feature in close-ups which will fit into the stuff we shot outside the Foreign Office. The coach party salute and bow gravely to non-existent passers-by, but of course they do not speak. No sound always makes for a very easy shoot, even though we all stay quiet as mice. It means that Mitch doesn't have to fuss where his boom can go, without it casting a shadow on the stars. Then the BP film was changed from St James's Park to the crowded stands of cheering people on the way to the Coronation. In squeezed Dame S and MM on one side, SLO and Dicky opposite them, prepared to be rocked gently up and down and cued to react as ordered. Dame S had a funny speech about her last coronation: ‘Happily no fatalities – except in the crowd' – turning to wave to them. MM had to ‘silent act', or react, a lot, which is not her ‘forte'.

I'm not surprised she was a little hysterical. She went to the first night of AM's play –
A View from the Bridge
– last night and she must be exhausted. The papers are full of her ‘low-cut crimson dress'. Evidently it brought the house down more than the play. Plod said AM didn't mind a bit. His ego is impregnable.

I dined this evening with Al at the club. Quite a relief to feel civilised again. Al takes a pretty jaundiced view of ‘Showbiz' and is not too sympathetic when I describe my lack of love life either. ‘You should be tougher, old boy.'

I know he is right. He is wonderful company, much cleverer than I am, but that's what's great. Talking of unsuccessful love life, I am driving Susie down to Saltwood tomorrow morning. At least I have the new Lancia Aurelia GT to take her in, but I don't expect she'll notice.

Susie was a magical weekend guest. She chattered away merrily on the drive and enchanted Mama and Papa as soon as she arrived. She
is a good talker but also a very good listener, and there is nothing Papa likes more than a pretty girl who listens.

After lunch I invited her for a walk along ‘the white cliffs of Dover' in the sunshine. As we were whizzing in to Folkestone an elderly car in front of us pulled over to the right, signalled a right turn by hand and indicator and then turned sharply left. Only the Lancia brakes saved me from the dubious distinction of putting Hollywood's most promising actress straight through the windshield. Even so, we banged the left side of the other car. A policeman on a motorbike actually witnessed the whole event from the other side of the road and came over. It turned out that the combined age of the four occupants in the other car was over 320, and the whole thing quickly developed into a farce. The driver, who was not the youngest, started to explain to the policeman. ‘I'm just a silly old fool,' he said. The policeman had his crash helmet on and misheard. ‘Who are you calling a fool?' he asked menacingly. But the driver was deaf too and persisted. Cross purposes set in all over the place, and Susie and I quickly left before we got complete giggles. But up on the cliff, Susie suddenly went silent and preoccupied, and we hardly spoke until we got back to the castle. Perhaps it was the shock.
⁷⁶

She recovered during dinner, and by the time I dropped her back to the Dorchester this evening we were the firmest of friends. I do hope to see her again, but I somehow doubt it. She will marry some super star and that will be that. Is there nothing for me between a little Wdg and a Hollywood star?

The coach was a lot easier to work with when it just sat on rockers in front of a BP screen. As soon as horses were attached it became
unpredictable, no matter how many grooms were standing by. We started the day with it actually in the studio, outside the front door of the Embassy. SLO, MM, Dame S and Dicky had to walk out of the hall and get into it, on their way to the Abbey. A seedy bunch of extras stood around outside, hiding the fact that Belgrave Square was missing. There was no dialogue, so getting into the coach was not much problem, but each time it set off, it was with a mighty lurch.

This did not look good, so the coach had to be backed up, and everyone extricated before we could try again. Tony B was directing  — since SLO was in the blooming thing – and he could not be satisfied. These repeated neck-snapping departures were quite trying on the nerves of the passengers, and also on their costumes, wigs, monocles etc. In the end, SLO had had enough. ‘Print the bloody lot,' he said. ‘We'll choose the best at rushes. One of them seemed OK to me.' Tony pretended to be angry, but he was secretly relieved. He can never be angry with ‘Laurence' for more than 10 seconds, anyway.

After lunch, we took the coach and the stars and about 150 extras onto a windy ‘lot' to do a little trotting about. It was extremely hard for Jack to light, even with arc lights. It isn't meant to be sunny, after all. They went under a false Admiralty Arch with MM getting very excited and Dicky W looking nervous (real-life nervous). Then they reached the theatre in which Elsie Marina was performing. In front of it was a stand, packed with the cast of Elsie's musical comedy,
The Coconut Girl
. Tomorrow this group will have dialogue, but for today they only had to cheer wildly, toot horns and wave flags. They are a lovely bunch of actors and actresses, very good hearted and jolly, despite the weather and the delays. They know they aren't at the centre of the film but this doesn't seem to worry them a bit. For them, any work is better than nothing. I hope MM doesn't have to learn this hard lesson one day.

No more coach and horses and no more MM either. She had a day off. The weather is cold and grey so we had arc lights on the lot again. At least it didn't rain. One never films in the rain, David tells me. ‘Film rain' is always carefully directed from a special hose pipe. But the lack of rain clouds worried Jack Harris. There is no pleasing a film editor!

The theatre cast did their dialogue in medium shot, so very few extras were involved. Jean Kent
⁷⁷
is ‘the star' and she looks lovely. I fancied her like mad when I was a teenager and she was a heroine of B movies. Gladys Henson
⁷⁸
is the dresser, and she reminds me of the little Wdg's boss (who now disapproves of me so much). There are three super girls who play MM's special friends – Vera Day is very cute and cockney, Gillian Owen is dark and quiet, and Daphne Anderson is just lovely. She has generous smiling eyes and a wide mouth – the sort of big-sister friend any actress would dream of having in real life. She shares ‘digs' with Elsie Marina and there will be a scene there later. And of course they all feature in the back-stage action, which we will film last of all. For now, Daphne has a trumpet which she blows mightily to catch MM's attention. (It doesn't really make any noise at all. The ‘toots' will be added later.) Then we ‘shot' the girls on the pavement outside the Embassy; waving and tooting again. Beside them was the barrel organ which is meant to be making the music which Elsie is dancing to when Jeremy comes into the purple room. Naturally, it too doesn't make a sound. My goodness, what a long time ago that purple room seems.