@MovieJay Review of My Week With Marilyn

 

"She was a whirling light to me then, all paradox and enticing mystery, street-tough one moment, then lifted by a lyrical and poetic sensitivity that few retain past early adolescence."

The success of My Week with Marilyn lies in the gifts of Michelle Williams in her skillful evocation of those words written by Marilyn Monroe's third and final husband, Death of a Salesman playwright Arthur Miller.

It must be difficult to be charged with playing a symbolic, cultural icon. Ashley Judd and Mira Sorvino did admirable work in Norma Jean & Marilyn (1996), but Williams has now set the bar.

I came along a full generation after her passing, so for those like myself we grew up with the legend of Marilyn Monroe. The white dress blowing above her knees above that grate when the subway barrels by underneath. That unforgettable footage of her singing "Happy Birthday, Mr. President" to JFK.

For those who grew up with her, the nostalgia conjured up by the many faces of Monroe that enticed that generation can be sensed in their voices and particularly in their writing, among the historians and by our more mature film critics who know the feeling first hand. In Roger Ebert's review he writes, "In the early 1950s, my friends and I required only one word to express it: marilynmonroe. It wasn't a name. It was a summation of all we yearned and guessed about some kind of womanly ideal." And Rex Reed from the NY Observer lovingly adds, "you feel like you were there" and "supercolossal charisma and appeal".

You know, that kinda makes me jealous. My generation has Madonna and Britney, J. Lo and Lindsay Lohan, one after the other a copy-of-a-copy, the antithesis of enigmatic, perpetuating themselves on our culture much the same way a corporation does. Suppose we'll gleam the way those guys do that long after those ladies are through?

The film is the recollection of Colin Clark (Eddie Redmayne), a 23 yr-old kid who talks himself into a job at Pinewood Studios in England on the set of The Prince and the Showgirl (1956), directed by Laurence Olivier. They're filming an easy-breezy light comedy with Monroe surrounded by a cast of British acting royalty including the aforementioned Olivier (Kenneth Branagh), as well as Sybil Thorndike (Judi Dench). Frustrated with being pigeon-hel d as just another airy blonde, it would be Monroe's second film under the tutelage of acting guru Lee Strasberg's second wife, Paula (Zoe Wanamaker).

Olivier becomes an irascible mess on set as Paula's hold over Monroe with all that new "method acting" stuff gets in the way of him being a director. Olivier eschewed the method and saw acting in more practical terms, as something to be worked at like any other job. Of course he finds Monroe totally irresistible, but she's too much trouble for him. Meanwhile, Thorndike empathizes with the 30 yr-old Monroe, giving her a much-needed thespian mentor on set.

The young Colin is third-assistant director, essentially a glorified gopher. He's fancied by a sweet wardrobe girl named Lucy (Emma Watson), but she's no match for the spell that befalls Colin - indeed, all of the men involved with the pic - when Monroe summons him to keep her company at a cottage the week her husband, Arthur Miller (Dougray Scott) flies back state-side. Before this invitation, they will have interacted only a few times on set with Monroe sizing him up immediately as an innocent who she can trust. Colin's in awe of her and in their first scene together we see that beyond the pills and the booze and the many private and public faces, Monroe is a smart person lacking any kind of confidence with an insatiable need for reassurance. She appreciates Clark's kindness and honesty.

Perhaps he reminds her of her lost innocence.

If Colin and Monroe had sex that week, the movie does a good job of only suggesting it after a very lovely scene of the two skinny-dipping when Colin's been summoned back to the cottage where Monroe has locked herself inside her room and won't come out. There's real sweetness in the loneliness of that night as Colin climbs up and into her room through the window, "like Romeo & Juliet", whispers Monroe. The movie shows Colin holding her that night, while the rest is left to our imagination. And that's just perfect, since the overall appeal we have for Michelle Williams in the role is that we find ourselves yearning to hold her, too.

Marilyn Monroe left something to the imagination in a time when that notion was sexy. That idea and how well it's milked to our great satisfaction is what makes My Week with Marilyn one of the very good biopics. It also serves itself well by focusing on a slice of her life instead of the usual ski-slope treatment where biopics tend to find themselves marking every flag down the slope of a celebrity's life.

The three major supporting performances are all Oscar-worthy. Kenneth Branagh is excellent at showing how Olivier practically goes mad on set and is given a wonderful, revealing scene where he shares with Colin the loneliness of feeling older in comparison to the zesty Monroe. Judi Dench wrings some very wise and knowing laughs from the experiences of an actor who has been on many a set. And Eddie Redmayne, so good in The Yellow Handkerchief and Hick, gives his best performance yet as the helplessly-in-love-and-devoted Colin Clark. The rest of the cast shines as well, not least of which Julia Ormond playing Vivien Leigh, Olivier's husband. She's got Colin making sure to report any funny business between her husband and the icon.

But at the center is that inspired performance by Michelle Williams, who indeed brings Marilyn Monroe to life as we've never seen before, capturing in a very tender way the highs and lows, the free-spiritedness and the wonder, the loneliness and troubles that haunted the disturbed young star. Williams is a lock for an Oscar nomination.

Lovely movie. It really does make you feel like you were there.

 

My Week with Marilyn ***1/2 out of 4

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