Marilyn Monroe
Page 12
That night, while asleep, Marilyn was alarmed to discover the policeman cutting the screen on her door, to gain entrance to her home. ‘I was scared silly,’ she said in 1953. ‘I ran out of the front door and over to the neighbours.’ Unfortunately, several residents refused to let her in for fear of ‘becoming involved’, but she eventually found one who was willing to call the police, who later arrested the intruder and identified him as a fellow police officer. The incident had a lasting effect on Marilyn and she spoke of it often in interviews, along with her agent Harry Lipton, who later told how he was so concerned he’d also phoned the police himself.
The morning after the intruder incident, Marilyn phoned Lucille Ryman and John Carroll, the couple who had befriended her at the charity golf match, and who had been loaning her various sums of money since September 1947. When she relayed the intruder story to the couple, they were appalled and moved her into their home at 8497 Fountain Avenue, while they moved to their ranch in the San Fernando Valley.
‘It was just wonderful,’ remembered Marilyn in 1952. ‘It was the first nice place I’d ever had, and I felt really independent and sure that something good was going to happen to me.’ Unfortunately, although she enjoyed her new home, she still had trouble forgetting the intruder incident and Harry Lipton later recalled that she was rather afraid to live alone and was forever looking over her shoulder. As a result, she would often spend nights at the Ryman-Carroll ranch in the Valley, but was still haunted by the fact that several neighbours had refused to get involved during the intruder incident. According to Lipton, this brought back disturbing memories of her insecure childhood, and she became very upset as a result.
In spite of any memories of childhood traumas, Marilyn was still very much in touch with Grace Goddard’s family and began taking afternoon coffee with Grace’s sister, Enid Knebelkamp and her friend Catherine Larson. Catherine had first been introduced whilst Marilyn was walking barefoot around a flowerbed in the side yard. Now the three women met regularly at Enid’s house, where Catherine quickly developed an opinion on the actress. According to friend James Glaeg, Catherine felt Marilyn to be ‘worthy of admiration’ but not brilliant, or beautiful. ‘She was the kind you want to cuddle,’ she told James, before adding that she had always wanted to take Marilyn aside and advise her to get out of the acting business, feeling that she would never make it in Hollywood. ‘The surprise was on me,’ she later admitted.
Marilyn’s acting aspirations took a positive turn when she landed a part in the play, Glamour Preferred at the Bliss-Hayden Theater. Running from 12 October to 2 November, she was cast in the role of Lady Bonnie Towyn, a young actress who tries to steal the main character’s husband. The play, which was written by Florence Ryerson and Colin Clements, wasn’t particularly thrilling, but it did give Marilyn a chance to work in the theatre, and she shone in the part, prompting one of her co-stars to comment that when she walked onstage, no one noticed any of the other actors.
The play also gave her the opportunity to be properly introduced to Annabelle Stanford, a model and actress who had been on a photo shoot with Norma Jeane in Las Vegas, and had also dated Bill Pursel’s brother Dick. She recalls: ‘Dick had told me that I looked just like Bill’s girlfriend, Norma Jeane and even photographers would often say the same thing. When I eventually met Marilyn, she was sat in an observation seat at Bliss-Hayden, and was introduced as a new cast member. I looked over and we both shouted, “It’s you!” because we’d both been hearing how much we looked alike from the Pursel brothers. She was a charming, delightful woman with a wonderful sense of humour, and was well liked by people. I never heard anyone talking about her in a coarse way; there was nothing slutty about her; nothing trash. In fact no one I knew ever saw any trash in her. Any image of her being trashy was purely in a guy’s dreams.’
Chapter 7
Starlet
By December 1947, Marilyn had moved from the home of the Carrolls – John Carroll and Lucille Ryman – into a house at 4215 Rowland Street, Burbank. However, they were still very much involved in Marilyn’s life, and agreed to manage her career from 1 December 1947 to 29 February 1948. The agreement gave Marilyn a $100 a week income, in exchange for the Carrolls receiving any money from her acting career, minus 10 per cent to be paid to agent Harry Lipton.
According to Lucille Ryman, Marilyn became something of a problem, and would repeatedly ring her and John at work, even though she was requested not to do this. ‘Under Marilyn’s baby-doll, kitten exterior, she is tough and shrewd and calculating,’ said Ryman, when interviewed in the mid-1950s. When the friendship later soured, it left bad feelings particularly with Lucille, who later claimed that Marilyn had attempted to seduce John Carroll on their first meeting, and asked Ryman to divorce him, so she could attempt a relationship with him herself.
But while still contracted to represent her, the Carrolls introduced Marilyn to Pat De Cicco, the ex-husband of slain 1930s film actress Thelma Todd. It was through De Cicco that she was introduced to sixty-nine-year-old Joseph Schenck, one of the ‘big fish’ at Fox. Schenck was immediately taken with the starlet, and she began spending many hours at his home at 141 South Carolwood Drive.
Much has been written about this relationship, with some implying that she was little more than a sexual plaything for the ageing mogul. However, Marilyn always publicly denied this, insisting that the two were just friends and that she spent so much time at his home because his cook served good food. She later told director Elia Kazan that the ageing mogul had asked her to marry him, knowing that she would be well taken care of if something ever happened to him. She refused the proposal, but enjoyed their friendship and the trips to his home.
Schenck himself denied any romantic involvement when interviewed by Ezra Goodman in the mid-1950s: ‘She used to come here quite often for dinner. I think she liked to eat. We have good food here. No, I never had any romantic thoughts about Marilyn and she never had any such thoughts about me.’
Although she never asked him for favours related to her career, shortly after Marilyn and Schenck became friends, he persuaded Columbia Pictures boss Harry Cohn to take a look at her screen test. Unfortunately, the married Cohn was interested in Marilyn for more than her acting ability, and tried to persuade her to take a trip to Catalina Island on his yacht. Marilyn assured him that she’d only be interested in going if his wife came too, sending Cohn into a fury.
Shortly after the incident with Cohn, Marilyn met up with Aunt Enid and friend Catherine, during one of their regular coffee afternoons. There she shared the story of the executive trying to entice her on to his yacht. Catherine’s friend James Glaeg recalled: ‘Catherine told that story before I read it anywhere. “There’s one thing I can say for Marilyn,” Catherine said – as though there were a lot of things she couldn’t say for her – “She was a good girl.”’
Most authors claim that it was Schenk’s introduction to Harry Cohn that got Marilyn a contract at Columbia Pictures, but in an article entitled ‘The private life of Marilyn Monroe’, drama coach Natasha Lytess tells a rather different story.
Lytess was a failed actress who had once been contracted to RKO. According to her, she had been asked by Max Arnow from the Columbia talent department to take a look at a starlet called Marilyn Monroe. He didn’t think much of her possibilities and wanted a second opinion, but when Lytess first saw her, she wasn’t sure either: ‘The first time I met Marilyn Monroe, I thought to myself, “That voice!” My ears couldn’t take it. Her manner was also almost apologetic and plainly revealed an “I know I’m not good enough, but I’ll try” attitude.’
However, something about the girl impressed Lytess enough to know she wanted to help her, but had no idea what she could do, given the short time she had to work with her. According to Natasha, Marilyn was not under contract to Columbia at that time, and she paid for her own lessons. However, they had only worked together for a couple of weeks when Max Arnow called to complain: ‘I’ve just looked at the repo
rt card of Marilyn Monroe,’ he said. ‘You are spending a lot of time with her. Too much. I suggest you drop her.’ Natasha refused and instead the two of them worked together on an audition piece from a long-forgotten film called They Knew What They Wanted, which impressed the studio bosses enough to sign her.
An ecstatic Marilyn signed the six-month, $125-a-week contract on 9 March 1948, and told Natasha that this was the first time in her life she would have the security to work at her studies and not have to worry about rent or food. She saw the contract as a new beginning; a chance to make her dreams come true at last: ‘The Columbia contract was different,’ she later wrote, ‘I was sure that my big opportunity had come.’
Before her ‘big opportunity’ was able to develop, however, Marilyn was devastated to learn that her beloved Aunt Ana had passed away. The old lady had been ill for some time, but this did not prevent Marilyn’s heart from breaking with grief. ‘I was left without anyone to take my hopes and my troubles to. I was miserable,’ she remembered. She returned to the apartment she had once shared with her favourite ‘Aunt’, and going through her belongings she discovered that Ana had left a book for her, The Potter, along with a note on the title page that read: ‘Marilyn dear, read this book. I don’t leave you much except my love. But not even death can diminish that, nor will death ever take me far away from you.’ The young actress was devastated and never forgot the lady who had encouraged her through thick and thin, right from day one.
Marilyn’s grief was relieved somewhat when she was cast in a low-budget musical called Ladies of the Chorus, which began shooting on 22 April and finished on 3 May 1948. The film cast Marilyn as Peggy Martin opposite Adele Jergens, who was only nine years older than Marilyn, yet bizarrely found herself playing her mother. Marilyn looked young and beautiful in the role, although the plot was hardly exciting – Peggy and her mother, Mae, are working together in a burlesque show, when Peggy gets her big break and steals the heart of a wealthy young bachelor (Rand Brooks). The romance falters when her mother disapproves and his family finds out what Peggy does for a living, but like all fairy tales, romance wins out in the end and they all live happily ever after. Marilyn herself later admitted to hating the film, but could not deny that it had given her a great chance to sing and dance in a movie.
Her two songs, ‘Every Baby Needs a Da Da Daddy’ and ‘Anyone Can See I Love You’, were done under the guidance of musical supervisor Fred Karger, who worked for Columbia at the time. Karger was thirty-two years old when he met the twenty-one-year-old starlet, and had recently divorced. He was living with his mother, sister and child, and was in no mood for a serious relationship, but this did not stop him being attracted to Marilyn. She herself fell in love with the musician: ‘I fell in love with an ordinary man who played the piano,’ she said. ‘I had always been attracted to men who wore glasses and when he put his on the first time to read some music, I was overwhelmed. He stopped playing, came over and kissed me and a new life began.’
Unfortunately, the relationship was ultimately not a happy one for Marilyn. Fred Karger was feeling bitter after his divorce, and she often felt as though he was putting her down and belittling her intelligence and dreams. He did not inspire confidence, and in actual fact it would seem that she actually got along much better with his mother and sister than she did with him. But that said, she did fall heavily for Karger, declaring that, ‘when he came into my room and took me in his arms, all my troubles were forgotten. I even forgot Norma Jeane.’
Marilyn later told author Ben Hecht that Karger refused to marry her because he didn’t want his child to be raised by a woman like her. Then to add insult to injury, Karger happily helped her move into her next home; a room at an establishment especially designed for single women.
Built in 1926 to help women who worked in the industry, the Hollywood Studio Club was an attractive, three-storey building located at 1215 Lodi Place, in the heart of Hollywood. By the time Marilyn became aware of its existence, it had been home to some 7,000 girls, and on 3 June 1948, the young actress left her small apartment and moved into a double room at the club, where she paid $12 for room and board.
When Fred Karger dropped her off, she looked around the room she would share with opera student Clarice Evans, and was not overly impressed. It reminded her of the orphanage, and there were various rules and regulations to stick to – primarily no smoking in the lobby, no shorts in the dining room, and absolutely no men allowed on the upper floors. She decided to keep herself to herself, and soon gained a reputation of being curiously quiet, never taking part in any small talk about boyfriends or gossiping in any way. Still, Evans later told biographer Maurice Zolotow that she went on more dates than any of the other girls, and received more phone calls than anyone else, even though she was still dating not just Fred Karger but old flame Bill Pursel, too.
During this time, Marilyn’s career was still very much on her mind, and on 15 August she opened in a play entitled Stage Door at the Bliss-Hayden Theater. The three-act play was written by Edna Ferber and George S. Kaufman and centres on sixteen young actresses who all share rooms in a boarding house run by an elderly woman called Mrs Orcutt. The main character is a young woman called Terry, who is trying to make it big in the theatre. By the end of the play, she has won her dream role and is fully intent on never having to share a bedroom ever again. The story of the main character’s life and dreams in the boarding house reminded Marilyn of her own life at the Hollywood Studio Club, and it is no coincidence that around the time of being in the play she moved out of her shared room and into a private one at the club for $16.50 rent a week.
In September 1948 Bill Pursel found himself in Los Angeles again, when he enrolled at the Woodbury College, a business school where he planned to study advertising. Despite still being involved with Fred Karger, Norma Jeane began spending a lot of time with Pursel, and the two would often hang out together, lunching in the Columbia commissary, and enjoying each other’s company. As Pursel remembered: ‘We didn’t have a favourite place to go; we would just stop on the spur of the moment at a place that looked quiet and secluded. She was rather close-mouthed about her personal life, though she did talk about what happened in her modelling career or where she had been on certain shoots. But, most of our conversation was quiet and private like, and then there were the notes on restaurant and bar napkins – I sure wish I had those – we wrote back and forth about the kind of house she (we) wanted; the number of children, the type of dog, and all sorts of other stuff including little games back and forth.’
They also attended a dance at the popular and crowded Palladium dance hall in Hollywood, where clarinet player Woody Herman was playing with his band. Norma Jeane made quite an impression that night, as remembered by Pursel: ‘As the two of us danced close to the stage, Woody Herman was looking at Norma Jeane and almost walked straight off the edge of the stage! He just caught himself, but the clarinet came out of his mouth. She didn’t see this because her back was to the stage, but the oohs of the packed crowd got her attention. I jokingly told her it was all her fault and we laughed about it later.’
Perhaps one of the most interesting things about Marilyn’s friendship with Bill Pursel was her relaxed and interested attitude towards him, and as a result, their time together was both enjoyable and carefree: ‘She would always ask me about my studies at college and about my baseball playing and stuff like that. She never dressed up for me, this is one of the things I liked about her. She was very beautiful with little make-up and her hair pulled back with a ribbon.
‘I remember a date we had one night to go grunion hunting on the beach. When the grunion are running, loads of people flock to the beach with buckets and nets to catch these little fish. I remember Norma Jeane and I, pants rolled up to our knees, with a couple of buckets, frolicking in the surf with dozens of other people, scooping up these little swarming fish. Norma Jeane and I would look for some small children and give our catch away; it was a fun adventure and I enjoyed wa
tching her gleefully bouncing about and yelling “I’ve got some, I’ve got some.” She was so much fun to be with; so childlike and free. Here she was, wet and sandy from falling in the surf, bubbling with laughter and scooping up these little wiggly fish to give to some child who was too small to compete in the splashing surf.’
But it wasn’t always children who were interested in Norma Jeane, such as on one occasion during another beach excursion with Bill when an overenthusiastic vendor gave her a whole armful of hot dogs, instead of just the one she ordered: ‘She was well aware of her attractiveness, but she didn’t flirt, and her appearance was always one of class. When we were together she was with me and when she talked to me (sometimes it was just a whisper) she looked me squarely in the eyes. She once asked me if the remarks and whistles bothered me. I joked, “Why would the whistles bother me – they are whistling at me, not you!’”
But while Norma Jeane may have joked about Bill’s envy, she did possess rather a lot of jealousy of her own. On one occasion she knew she couldn’t make a dance date with Bill, but left it to the very last minute to cancel, to make sure he couldn’t take anyone else. Then on another occasion, the two were sat in the Columbia cafeteria: ‘Norma Jeane asked if she could see my glasses so I took them off and handed them to her. She immediately smeared butter on the lenses to stop me looking at the many good-looking girls who were dining there.’
Bill also remembers a Spanish girl who worked in the office where he had a part-time job during his college days in Los Angeles. ‘She was kinda stuck on me; she was older than me but a very attractive gal.’ When Norma Jeane found out about his admirer, she became quite keen on moving in together. ‘I told her not to get the cart ahead of the horse as I wanted to finish college before starting to play house. She said, “But I’m not getting any younger Bill, and I’ve noticed those Spanish eyes where you work”.’ Bill had to convince Norma Jeane that he wasn’t interested in his admirer and the subject was eventually dropped.