A Century Of Marilyn Monroe

6/1/26

Marilyn Monroe was born Norma Jeane Mortenson on June 1, 1926, so the title of this piece is a little misleading. The phenomenon we know as Marilyn Monroe wasn’t born until 1946 when she signed a contract with 20th Century Fox on August 24, 1946, and studio executive Ben Lyon suggested she change her name. By that point, Norma Jeane had married (and was about to divorce) James Dougherty, whose surname Lyon thought was too confusing to pronounce.

Norma Jeane chose “Monroe,” a name from her mother’s side of the family, and Lyon recommended “Marilyn” because he said Norma Jeane reminded him of Ziegield Follies star Marilyn Miller. It’s now impossible to imagine Marilyn Monroe reminding someone of anyone other than Marilyn Monroe. She would become and remain a true screen original.

Marilyn and I share a birthday, and I think that’s how my affection for her started. On June 1, 1986, when Marilyn would’ve turned 60, a local station showed a marathon of her movies, which is how I spent most of my 12th birthday, while eating the pecan pie my mother baked for me. (I preferred pie to cake.) Her movies always felt like a special occasion, even the ones where she wasn’t the lead. Her star still shone brightly. She has only a small role in the classic All About Eve (1950), but she’s a scene stealer in a movie where every cast member is committing cinematic grand larceny. Marilyn’s Miss Caswell is a savvy schemer beneath a seemingly vacuous exterior. (Watch below.)

Director Joseph Mankiewicz said, “I felt Marilyn had edge. There was breathlessness about her and sort of glued-on innocence about her that I found appealing.”

My adolescent self couldn’t agree more: I recorded her movies off AMC whenever they aired and rewatched them constantly. This is why I later felt an immediate connection to playwright Ken Cameron’s Making Marilyn, which my friend Debbie invited me to see when I lived in New York. The 2005 play follows lonely teenager Scout’s slightly obsessive infatuation with Marilyn, who the fabulous Ashlie Atkinson brings to life in all her heartbreaking complexity. For me, Marilyn on screen was always a comfort but never a total escape from reality. Perhaps that’s how I avoided Scout’s fate.

My friend Simi used to host “film fests” at her Upper East Side apartment, and for my 27th birthday, she hosted a Marilyn-themed one in my honor. The three films I picked remain my favorites:

Gentlemen Prefer Blondes (1953) is perhaps Marilyn’s most famous work, thanks to her epic performance of the song “Diamonds Are A Girl’s Best Friend.” Yes, as a true Gen-Xer, I first saw Madonna’s homage from her “Material Girl” video. In the 1949 stage musical, Carol Channing originated the part of Lorelei Lee. Monroe’s comic timing and chemistry with Jane Russell ignites the film. (Watch below.)

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The same year, Marilyn starred in the noir thriller Niagara as the femme fatale Rose Loomis, who plots to murder her loser husband George (Joe Cotton). Rose is no sweet Lorelei. She’s delightfully sinister in this exchange:

George: You smell like a dime store. I know what that means.

Rose: Sure. I’m meeting somebody. Just anybody handy, as long as he’s a man. How about the ticket seller himself? I could grab him on my way out. Or one of the kids with the phonograph. Anybody suits me. Take your pick.

Marilyn finished 1953 with How To Marry A Millionaire alongside Lauren Bacall and Betty Grable. It was 20th Century Fox’s first film shot in CinemaScope wide-screen, and it looks amazing on the big screen. I adore the musical overture style opening that makes you fall in love with New York. (The below is abbreviated, alas, so go stream/download/buy the original.)

Marilyn shows off her comic chops once again as Pola Debevoise, who’s practically blind without her glasses but avoids wearing them because she’s afraid people won’t notice she’s stunning. In fairness, glasses were an effective disguise for Superman. It’s interesting to consider how often — and well — Marilyn played against type. (Watch below.)

I could spend another century discussing all my favorite Marilyn movies — The Seven Year Itch (1955), Bus Stop (1956), The Prince and the Showgirl (1957) — but for now, I’ll finish with Billy Wilder’s Some Like It Hot (1959). It’s not just my favorite Marilyn movie, it’s one of my favorite movies ever made. I had the pleasure of seeing Some Like It Hot on the big screen at my college campus theater in the mid-1990s. Not long afterward — though it felt like a full lifetime — I saw it again at the Film Forum in New York. Each time, leaving the theater was like reluctantly departing another world, one far more magical.

Marilyn was skeptical about playing what she considered another “dumb blonde” part, but her skepticism decreased when she was offered 10 percent of the film’s profits in addition to her salary. (By the time of her death in 1962, Some Like It Hot had grossed $14 million in the U.S. or $512 million in today’s money, an incredible amount for a comedy.)

Wilder and Marilyn disagreed about how she should play Sugar, and Marilyn was not terribly confident about the film’s success, likening it to a “sinking ship.” This tension probably led to the accounts about how difficult Marilyn was to work with on set. She struggled with both her lines and showing up on time. She infamously required 47 takes to correctly say, “It’s me, Sugar.” (After a dozen takes, I’d have accepted
“Sugar, it’s me” or even “It’s Sugar, me,” but that’s why I don’t have an Oscar.)

Although studios and her colleagues started to dismiss Marilyn as an unprofessional flake, in reality, she struggled with mental health problems that ranged from depression, anxiety, low self-esteem, and chronic insomnia. She was likely bipolar, and toward the end of her life, she’d self-medicated with alcohol and prescription drugs.

Nonetheless, Marilyn still manages to imbue Sugar “Kane” Kowalczyk with gut-renching sincerity. When she laments, “I always get the fuzzy end of the lollipop,” it’s not a punchline but a painful confession. It’s why your heart swells at the film’s climax when Sugar and Joe (Tony Curtis) finally get together, and no, I won’t accept the cynical view that Joe will end up sticking her with the “fuzzy end of the lollipop” like all the others in her past. Sugar deserves her happy ever after, even if Marilyn never experienced it. (Watch below.)