It was 1956 when young British lad, Colin Clark (Eddie Redmayne) landed the job and the experience of a lifetime. Since childhood, he’d dreamed of being involved in the movies, so when by chance he lands a position for Lawrence Olivier’s company (Kenneth Branaugh) he finds himself on the set of Noel Coward’s new film The Prince and the Showgirl (yes, it’s forgettable little film). That said, it’s other star was Marilyn Monroe (Michelle Williams.)
As the third assistant, Clark finds himself in awe of Miss Monroe -“Call me Marilyn” – until, like every man’s
fantasy come true, the two actually become fast friends and soon Clark finds he’s the only person who she turns to despite a cast of more appropriate suitors. Judi Dench portrays the sympathetic Dame Sybil, while the gorgeous Julia Ormond takes a backseat to Olivier’s attentions, portraying Vivian Leigh and claiming to be old now (and unworthy.) Emma Watson takes a backseat too, when Colin’s attentions are all over Marilyn instead of the homely “Harry Potter” starlet.
MM was ditzy, difficult, irresponsible, but irresistible. The film’s director, Simon Curtis, pays close attention to angling the shots, framing her in, bathing Marilyn in angelic light, so we feel the power of how Marilyn seduced the world. The film’s amusement comes from the fact that Olivier was such a serious Britsh actor, a veteran, a professional, who thinks he commands every scene, while Marilyn could barely remember her lines, instead tapping into all things American and Method. And somehow winning over the camera by pure chance, in a way Olivier could only dream of. I smell Oscar nomination for Kenneth Branaugh who’s perfectly class as Sir Lawrence in a best supporting role.
Our film’s hero, Clark, does little but sprint from MM’s dressing room to the countryside, always looking stunned, dazzled and in awe as any twenty-three year old would be at the chance to see Marilyn skinny dipping.
Williams does a good job flicking that Monroe switch from little-girl-lost to movie star, but she’s still not Marilyn (though one would bet the farm she’ll nail the Oscar.) She’s not as large breasted, not as huge a presence, her skin not as dewy inviting, but she’s as good as she can be with those big eyes, though it’s ironic Williams would take a role about a suicidal actress when her real life husband, Heath Ledger, met his demise this very way. Three tiaras