IN THE summer of 1956, Marilyn Monroe came to Pinewood Studios, in Buckinghamshire, to shoot The Prince and The Showgirl with Sir Laurence Olivier.
It was a fascinating collaboration: the most famous woman in the world opposite the greatest stage actor of a generation.
What could possibly go wrong?
The on-set diary and memoir of third assistant director Colin Clark revealed that Monroe consistently turned up late on set, driving Olivier to the brink of madness.
While fellow cast members, including Dame Sybil Thorndike, looked on, the director and his leading lady clashed, and Clark, just 23 at the time and fresh out of Oxford, became a go-between, winning the trust of the emotionally fragile starlet.
My Week With Marilyn crafts Clark’s recollections of that period into a bittersweet drama, laden with British acting talent.
Adrian Hodges’s script glistens with polished one-liners and provides Michelle Williams with a show-stopping role as a cinematic icon that richly deserves Oscar recognition.
Colin Clark (Redmayne) hails from privileged stock and, thanks to family connections, he secures a position working as assistant to Sir Laurence Olivier ( Branagh).
From the moment Marilyn arrives, Olivier is smitten and his wife Vivien Leigh (Julia Ormond) wearily tolerates the obsession.
On set, Olivier’s desire turns to frustration as Marilyn fluffs takes.
Celebrity photographer Milton H Greene (Cooper), who is part of Marilyn’s entourage with acting coach Paula Strasberg (Wanamaker), issues a warning: “Accept Marilyn on her terms and you will be OK.
“Try to change her and she’ll drive you crazy.”
So Olivier asks Colin to win his leading lady’s trust and get her to set on time.
While Colin falls under Marilyn’s spell and extinguishes a burgeoning romance with wardrobe mistress Lucy (Watson), the screen siren argues with her husband, writer Arthur Miller (Scott).
My Week With Marilyn is a Valentine to the art of film-making and to a woman whose radiance on the screen concealed destructive demons.
Williams could never match the full luminosity of Monroe but she comes close, capturing the vulnerability and mood swings, the naivete and inner conflict.
Redmayne exudes the innocence of a young man getting his heart broken for the very first time and Branagh is a comic whirlwind, responding to each setback with a barbed quip.
“Teaching Marilyn is like teaching Urdu to a badger!” he rages.
The era is handsomely recreated, tinged with the sadness that, only six years after Olivier’s battle of words with Monroe, she would be dead.
In Simon Curtis’s thoroughly entertaining film, her star still burns white hot.
