My Week With Marilyn

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WEDNESDAY, 1 AUGUST

MM was very late this morning. I phoned Plod to find out what was the matter but he knew nothing. Neither MM nor AM had come downstairs yet, and no one had had the courage to go up and knock.

‘Could they have committed joint suicide?’ I asked.

‘No.’ There had been bumps.

‘What sort of bumps?’ I heard Plod grin down the phone.

‘Oh no. Surely not.’

I can’t repeat that to SLO. He is extremely grim. It doesn’t bode well for the 6.45 a.m. filming days. Tony B is fuming. Dear Tony, he always mirrors SLO so closely it is touching. He genuinely feels SLO’s emotions as soon as SLO does. And his wife Anne is so like Vivien – in manner, of course, not in looks. Did he choose her like that, or did she become like that to please him?

The rest of the cast seem quite relieved. Esmond Knight paid us a visit – even though he is half-blind.

(#litres_trial_promo) No one seems to know how much he can or can’t see, but he’s very kind and nice.

Rehearsals went on, punctuated by hilarious theatrical jokes, mainly from Dicky Wattis. What a pity MM can’t join in this sort of ‘actors’ band’. I’m sure it is much more relaxing than the method group in New York. But perhaps you have to be a professional, as these actors are, to be able to join in and relax.

At noon MM did turn up with Paula and Milton. I wonder if they are fighting over her. She seemed confused and frightened. The script might as well have been Alice in Wonderland.

She had trouble in following the other parts and so failed to come in when her cue came. No one could be cross; they were just embarrassed. Paula had gone off to ‘confer’ with Milton, so Dame S went and sat by MM and coaxed her through. I wish Dame S was going to be in every scene but she is only in about 15%. Something definitely seemed the matter with poor MM so perhaps it will pass. It could be her monthly period, I suppose, but she was clearly very upset. By the look in her eyes she has been taking tranquillisers. She went to lie down in her dressing room at lunchtime and Paula came tiptoeing out after a few minutes so she must have gone straight to sleep.

At 2.30, when she didn’t appear, SLO told David and David told me to go to get her. Milton opened her dressing-room door, grinning, and said she’d be up in 10 minutes. I could see, and smell, a champagne bottle open on the table. My heart sank. I didn’t mention what I’d seen to SLO. Not booze as well as pills?

Actually MM was much better in the afternoon. I suppose the tranqs had worn off and the champagne had cheered her up. SLO left her alone to do what she could and Paula sat silently in a corner glowering.

Milton must have won a round there, I guess!

THURSDAY, 2 AUGUST

MM arrived early, for her, at 10.30 a.m. Paula and Hedda Rosten and AM were with her in the car. (No room for Plod!) Tension seemed high to me but MM was quite jolly.

AM and Hedda just looked round the studios a bit and went back to Parkside. Paula took a firm grip of MM on one side and Milton, who had been waiting outside, took a firm grip of the other. They hardly bother to conceal their battle for control. And not just them – AM wants control too.

There is no doubt MM is a huge star. Everyone is simply hypnotised when she appears, including me. Everything revolves around her, whether she likes it or not, and yet she seems weak and vulnerable. If it is deliberate, it is incredibly skilful, but I think it is a completely natural gift. All the people round her want to control her, but they do so by trying to give her what they think she wants. What a paradox. Only Dame Sybil, with a heart as big as a house, can bypass all this nonsense. She can get away with being natural with MM because she is so naturally nice. Which none of the rest of us are, of course.

We are all really thinking of what we want underneath. ‘Oh what a nice pot of gold you are. Can I help you, pot of gold?’ etc. Dame S simply is not interested in gold.

Meanwhile life goes on. Filming starts on Monday and everything needs to be ready. Studio A is now bursting with technicians, preparing the equipment. The first shots on Monday will be unimportant – just there to make sure everything works, camera, lights, sound etc.

Jack Cardiff has to have the right lights hanging from the grid. It looks a total muddle but it has a pattern which only the gaffer and he understand. The lights get very hot – I dread to think what the temperature is up on the gantry. Whenever possible the lights are all switched off. ‘Save the lights’ is the cry, and there is a great clunk and what seems like darkness for a moment. But actually there are work lights which always stay on. They make everything look tawdry and pathetic. Carpenters are hammering, scene painters are finishing back-drops, curtains (drapes) are being hung and ornaments are being selected to decorate the set (props).

Roger Furse is meant to be in charge of the scenery but his assistants hardly seem to have time to listen to him.

Bumble Dawson is clearly close to a breakdown. She has all the costumes to worry about and some aren’t to her liking.

(#litres_trial_promo) My little Wdg, who works for Bumble of course, is too busy to give me anything but a smile, but we do have another date for Saturday night.

FRIDAY, 3 AUGUST

Tony B is incredibly nice. It seems he and Anne have rented a large house near Ascot, at Runnymede, where King John signed the Magna Carta. They want me to come to live with them there while filming is going on. It is much nearer the studios than London, of course, and not far from Tibbs and Englefield Green. Since I have to be at Pinewood by 6.40 a.m. every morning from now on, that is very good news.

But the real joy is to be invited to be part of ‘the family’. Tony B and Anne are very much part of SLO and Vivien’s ‘family’ and now I will be too. I always have a tendency to feel lonely unless I am with people. It is an absolutely lovely idea and I accepted with much gratitude.

Rehearsals ended at lunchtime and all the cast dashed off for the weekend.

‘Not you,’ said David sternly, and we stayed to see the last person leave. I don’t mind. My mind is firmly fixed on tomorrow night.