MY WEEK WITH MARILYN: Blu-ray (Weinstein/BBC) Alliance Home Video
The life and
career of Marilyn Monroe are legendary and tragic. Her tenure at 20th Century
Fox was all too brief but distinguished by some very fine films - most still
fondly remembered today. And although overstated time and again, it must be
said that Monroe's iconography, an intoxicating blend of sexual innocence and
bubble-headed brashness, has never been equaled by any star or celebrity since
her time, although most every ingénue and starlet has miserably tried and
failed to recreate it. That the truth about the woman behind the facade should
be more conflicted, painful and ultimately genuine than any of her on-screen
images audiences continue to fall in love with and hold so dear, is perhaps the
greatest misconception about the woman herself. But Marilyn Monroe played the
dazzlingly ditz better than anyone could. But she was neither as naive, nor as
utterly silly as her characters behaved on the big screen. Yet, even minor
attempts to remake her own image - her move to study at the Actor's Studio for
instance, to become a more serious actress - met with frequent and renewed
disapproval from her studio bosses and audiences alike. Once Marilyn Monroe -
the icon - had been galvanized with her fans there was no room for Norma Jean
Baker.
Simon Curtis' My Week With Marilyn (2011) attempts to
tell only a very small segment of what is ultimately Monroe's public and
private legacy. It's Spring 1956, a scant 7 years before Marilyn's death.
Following a string of light-hearted big box office hits, Marilyn Monroe
(Michelle Williams) is at the top of her professional game. Regrettably, as her
stature has risen so have her insecurities. A growing addiction to prescription
drugs and mounting fears that she is not living up to her own potential as an
actress has left Marilyn at the mercy of sycophantic acting coach, Paula
Strasberg (Zoe Wanamaker). In constant need of approval, Marilyn is, perhaps
more than anything else, an incredibly lost and frightfully unhappy child in
womanly form.
She has just
arrived in England with her third husband, imminent playwright Arthur Miller
(Dougray Scott) to begin work on The Prince and the Showgirl, a film being
financed, directed and co-starred in by Sir Lawrence Olivier (Kenneth Branagh).
The opportunity to co-star with Olivier - arguably, Britain's greatest
theatrical talent - comes at a particularly bad time for all concerned.
Although at the peak of her artistic powers Marilyn is also in the absolute
depths of her inner despair. Miller is cold and aloof and frequently absent
from her side while Olivier is regularly frazzled by Marilyn's inability to
perform a single scene without Paula's approval. 'Larry's wife, Vivien Leigh
(Julia Ormond) is the aging movie queen from another vintage, who recognizes
the strange hold Marilyn has on men - including her own husband. Into this mix
of unhappy lost souls comes the real innocent of our story - Colin Clark (Eddie
Redmayne). Born into a life of stifling privilege, Colin views the movies as
his big break away from that ensconced heritage. But his family, particularly
his father, see Colin's interests in film as thoroughly misguided - the
daydreams of a boy who has not yet grown up.
Based on the
real Colin Clark's book about his weeklong escapist fantasia with the most
popular actress of her time, the film's screenplay by Adrian Hodges retains
Clark's first person narrative. We quietly observe his innate and personalized
awkwardness, his inability to procure a position within the film's production
unit until Vivien sympathetically reminds Larry that he has promised a friend
of a friend to give Colin his first big break. Colin is introduced to Marilyn
at the start of the production, while spirits are still universally high and
expectations for an intercontinental hit, higher still. Marilyn sees Colin as
just another wide-eyed admirer. And, in fact, Colin is that. But there's
something more that Marilyn is able to draw out of him - a shared sadness
perhaps - to be misread so simplistically and perhaps condescendingly by the
rest of the world.
On set, Colin
sparks a burgeoning friendship with costume manager, Lucy (Emma Watson). She
can see how star struck he is with Marilyn and tells him point blank that she
is not up to being a stand-in substitute, merely to satisfy the lusts he has
procured while ogling Monroe during filming. Nevertheless, Colin and Lucy begin
to fall in love. But Colin's attentions are quickly diverted away from Lucy. He
has caught Marilyn's fancy and she calls upon him - first as her personal
gofer, then as a friend she can trust with her secrets. Colin incurs the wrath
of second assistant, David Orton (Robert Portal). He used to be Marilyn's fetch
n' carry boy once not so long ago and perhaps even her lover. David's jealousy
toward Colin is quite obvious, but to no purpose.
Marilyn
demands Colin on the set and Olivier - already behind schedule and over cost -
is only too happy to acquiesce. But he warns Colin not to get too close to
Marilyn. Despite her pleas against loneliness, Olivier tells Colin "She
doesn't need to be rescued." Nevertheless, when Paula finds Marilyn's
bedroom door locked and is unable to talk to her through the door, the first
person she leans on is Colin. He rushes to Monroe's rental - a remote country
cottage far away from the paparazzo's prying eyes and flashbulbs - and scales
her second story window with a ladder. He finds his icon not dead or even
distraught, but slightly woozy from the sleeping pills she has taken to go to
bed. Colin spends the night with Marilyn - fully clothed - but lying next to
her in bed. The next day, David warns Colin to stay away from Monroe from now
on. Marilyn's private bodyguard, Roger Smith (Philip Jackson) arrives at
Pinewood Studios to collect Colin for an 'engagement'. Much to David and
Olivier's dismay, Colin discovers Marilyn in the backseat. She has kidnapped
him with Smith's complicity for a day of playing hooky from the set.
Colin uses
this opportunity to show Marilyn something of the world he comes from. He takes
her to Windsor Castle where his uncle, Sir Owen Morshead (Derek Jacobi) is
curator of the expansive library archives. Marilyn works her magic on Sir Owen
and the rest of the staff who applaud her arrival as though she were their
queen. Next, it's off to Eton Prep-school where Colin and his 'date' are
accosted by a friendly group of boys - shocked and surprised to discover a
goddess in their midst. The afternoon concludes with a romp through the nearby
woods. Marilyn goes skinny dipping and Colin - by now hopelessly bound in his
puppy love - dutifully dives into the water after her. The two share a very
brief kiss in the lake, then another - more tenderly sweet and prolonged on dry
land, before Smith encourages that they return to the cottage to settle in for
the night.
The next day
Marilyn is luminous in her scenes with Olivier. Afterward, Olivier crudely
suggests to Colin that it is their tryst that has made all the difference in
her acting. Colin denies any sexual contact, but Lucy is bitterly wounded by
the obvious affection mirrored in his eyes for Marilyn. The filming of The
Prince and the Showgirl continues. As production winds down Olivier invites
Colin into the screening room to view the dailies. Marilyn glows off the screen
and Olivier muses that she does not even know how extraordinary she is.
However, as Colin has wisely deduced for himself, the film will do nothing for
either performer's image; not to advance Marilyn's desire to be taken seriously
as an actress, nor transform Olivier's theatrical presence into that of an
engaging film star.
As the
production wraps, Colin realizes that his brief interlude with America's
reigning sex symbol has come to an end just as Olivier and Roger Smith
predicted. Yet, Marilyn has not used Colin merely to suit her own needs. Nor
has he exploited her status to elevate his own level of importance within this
cloistered film making community. As Marilyn bids Colin a polite farewell, Lucy
asks "She broke your heart, didn't
she?" And although Colin is unable to answer her directly, the
evidence of Marilyn's impact on him is plainly obvious. "Good," Lucy quietly reasons, "It needed to be broken."
My Week With Marilyn is a superbly written, expertly
played film on most every level. Michelle Williams is frighteningly on point as
Monroe. There is always a danger when attempting to emulate an iconic
personality - such as Marilyn Monroe - of delving too broadly into camp mannerisms
that render the performance cloying as a caricature. Certainly, every star in
Hollywood who has gone through her own Monroe phase (from Madonna to the late
Anna Nicole Smith) has never managed to scratch beyond the surface of the
Monroe mystique.
But Williams
gets under Marilyn's skin. She breathes life into her art that seems very
genuine and at times borders on some chilling perfection channeling Monroe's
spirit. We believe her every step of the way and can almost feel a connection
from beyond the grave. I can think of only two other actresses in recent times
who have come this close in resurrecting a talent; Sissy Spacek as Loretta Lynn
in Coal
Miner's Daugther (1980) and Marion Cotillard's morphing into Edith Piaff
for La
Vie En Rose (2007). Of course, My
Week With Marilyn would not work nearly as well if the male lead were
unequal to William's central performance. Eddie Redmayne proves himself
perfectly pitched to meet that challenge. His Colin Clark is the boy someone
like Norma Jean Baker - before she became Marilyn Monroe - ought to have
married. His performance goes beyond simple charm - although Redmayne is
charming as all that.
Yet, his Clark
is also a kindred spirit to William's Monroe. They are the same person in many
ways, similarly occupied with dreams and aspirations that will - and can -
never be fulfilled, At their core, each is a very fundamental flawed human
being and that makes their 'affair' and ultimate parting all the more
bittersweet for the audience. Like the greatest of love stories, these are two
people who truly belong together but can never be together. The rest of the
performances in the film are uniformly solid, particularly Branagh's Olivier.
Branagh - revered as his generation's Olivier - captures, if not in contents,
than in spirit the essence of Sir Larry's caustic wit. Judy Dench, cast as Dame
Sybil Thorndike - (who had a small part in The Prince and the Showgirl) has an
even smaller, but arguably more memorable role in this film. She is at once
Olivier's friend, Marilyn's sympathizer and Colin's confidant.
Ben Smithard's
cinematography is like looking at a gorgeous - if prolonged - vintage
Kodachrome snapshot from this period. We get all the commemoration but with
none of the kitsch attached. Judy Farr's costume design nicely contrasts
Marilyn's simple fifties elegance against the more stoic traditionalism of
Great Britain from a period, when it was hardly as great as it had once been,
but still clung gallantly to its old ways. Films about Hollywood icons that
actually work in filmic terms are extremely rare, but My Week With Marilyn is definitely one of them. it excels at
telling its story without much punctuation or glitzy fanfare and that, perhaps,
is best reason why this semi-biographical film works so splendidly as sheer art
for art's sake. Bravo and heartily won kudos to all!
Alliance Home
Video's Blu-ray delivers the goods. This is a beautifully rendered 1080p
translation of the original filmic elements. Color has an appropriately dated
appeal. Flesh tones seem natural. Contrast is stylized but nicely rendered
throughout. Truly, you are in for a visual treat with this disc. The 5.1 DTS
digital audio is also a winner - very much preserving the rather understated
score by Conrad Pope. Extras are limited to a featurette about the real Marilyn
and her recreation for this film.
One note of
discontent that must be pointed out: Alliance opens this disc with a
'commercial' and then bombards the viewer with no less than six trailers for
upcoming Bluray releases. These 'extras' cannot be fast forwarded, but you can
advance through them - one at a time - using your chapter search button. Seriously,
Alliance - 'a commerical?!?' This is just in bad taste. I, as I suspect others,
buy movies on Blu-ray for the sheer appreciation of the film - not so that we
can feel as though our regular broadcast monitors have never been turned off!
Badly done. Nevertheless - My Week With
Marilyn comes very highly recommended. This is one we'll be remembering for
many years yet to come!
FILM RATING (out of 5 - 5 being the best)
4
VIDEO/AUDIO
4
EXTRAS
1
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