It was suggested that Bill Holden be cast in the part, but Wilder balked at the idea, saying that the stunningly handsome actor just wasn’t right for the role and until he found someone who was, the picture would be stalled. At long last, Tom Ewell—the actor who played the role on Broadway a staggering 730 times—was asked to test. Having been in the play for so long, he knew Richard Sherman better than anyone else, and his performance in the test proved to be superb. Added to that, the actor most certainly did not have generic, film-star features, which made him even more ideal for the story. After some discussion between Wilder and Fox, Ewell was cast.
For Tom Ewell, the success of the play and now the opportunity to reprise the role on film was a dream come true. He had worked hard for many years but found it difficult to make a real name for himself in either theater or film. For a time, he had moved to Hollywood, but without much luck, so he moved back to New York City, where he went from theater to theater looking for a lead—any lead—that would end in a job. Between gigs he studied with various coaches and attended the Actors Studio on a regular basis. He took odd jobs, including washing dishes and selling cigarettes, but although he appeared in many plays over the course of his career, it wasn’t until The Seven Year Itch that Ewell truly felt successful.
While Marilyn was already a well-known and established star by the time The Seven Year Itch crossed her radar, the status of being given the part of The Girl was just as important to her. Ultimately, the experience would inspire her so much that her life would change beyond all recognition, and it is interesting that she was not the only one influenced that way. Once his time on the film was over, George Axelrod decided to move to Los Angeles so that he could have closer control over the adaptations of his plays. Even Tom Ewell’s wife was inspired by the movie, and told journalists that while her husband had always been a worrier like the character of Richard Sherman, she now hoped he could lighten up and cease the anxiety once and for all.
WHILE IN THE PLAY the mention of Jane Russell was dropped into a scene, in the film a mention of Marilyn was even more cleverly managed, thanks to the fact that The Girl has no name. In one scene, it is clear that Richard has no idea what she is called and stumbles over a botched-up introduction between her and the apartment janitor. Later, however, when his love rival enters the picture and asks who the blonde in the kitchen is, Richard replies, “Wouldn’t you like to know?! Maybe it’s Marilyn Monroe!”
Oddly enough, there were several parallels in the lives of Marilyn and The Girl. For starters, The Girl is a model/actress who has also posed seminude. We know this to be so when she shows Richard Sherman a saucy picture of herself in a copy of U.S. Camera. As we have seen, Marilyn herself was a successful model for several years and posed nude for Earl Moran and Tom Kelley. The subsequent calendar pictures ignited a scandal for Marilyn, which The Girl also says she experienced.
During a conversation with Sherman, The Girl complains about once living in a club, where she had to be in early and was restricted in what she could and could not do. As a starlet, Marilyn lived at the Hollywood Studio Club for a few years and shared the same feelings toward the strict rules and regulations. The Girl expresses her opinion that being married would be just as bad as living back at the club. Since Marilyn was struggling with the restrictions of married life to Joe DiMaggio, one can’t help but wonder if she felt the same way.
By the time shooting began, Marilyn’s relationship was coming undone at a furious rate. During the making of her previous film, There’s No Business Like Show Business, Joe had become jealous over her friendship with voice coach Hal Schaefer. He also disliked some of the scenes in the movie, particularly the “Heat Wave” number, which depicted Marilyn dancing with a group of men while wearing a skimpy costume. He detested living in Los Angeles and wanted desperately for the couple to return to San Francisco, settle down, and have children. The more time went on, however, the less this looked like a possibility.
While Marilyn was going through one of the most stressful times of her life as a result of her fractured marriage, her character of The Girl seemed to be having a ball: acting, modeling, dating, going to the cinema and out to dinner, and making her own decisions. Indeed, her biggest worry in the entire movie seems to be the lack of air-conditioning in her apartment—a problem that requires her to keep her undies in the icebox. In short, The Girl was living a fairly carefree life in Manhattan. She made it all look so wonderful.
When Marilyn flew into New York on September 9, 1954, for location filming on Itch, Joe did not arrive with her. Reporters eagerly pressed her to answer why, but all the actress would say was, “Isn’t that a shame.” There then followed a press party at the St. Regis Hotel, some time spent with friends, and DiMaggio arrived on September 12.
Any signs of trouble between the pair were kept well hidden. On walking into Sardi’s restaurant, the couple literally caused everyone to stop what they were doing and gape at them. Costar Tom Ewell was in attendance that evening and said he had never seen anything like it before. “Everybody worships this girl,” he told columnist Hedda Hopper. He then disclosed that before the end of the night, Joe DiMaggio had sought him out to reveal that he had seen The Seven Year Itch on Broadway and loved Ewell’s performance. The actor was thrilled.
The next few days were a flurry of activity. There were theater visits and photo sessions and even the opportunity to meet Italy’s biggest glamour star, Gina Lollobrigida. However, Marilyn was not in New York City to mingle; she was there to work. In that regard, the actress was filmed at an apartment window, where she waved and spoke to Tom Ewell, who was down on the sidewalk. Of course, word that Marilyn was in the vicinity soon spread to fans, and the street became packed with curious bystanders all trying to catch her attention. She did not fail to impress them and posed for amateur and professional cameras alike. These public shots were exciting, but they were nothing compared to what was to come on a dark New York street just days later.
“MARILYN MONROE IS HERE, shooting scenes for Twentieth’s Seven Year Itch.… May be seen at the 52nd and Lexington Trans-lux at 6 am Saturday.” It was a seemingly innocuous mention toward the end of the September 10, 1954, Walter Winchell column, and yet this would turn into legendary reporting from the famed gossip columnist. The time originally noted was wrong, but when it was corrected to the even earlier 2 a.m. of Saturday the fifteenth, 1,500 fans, photographers, and curious folk got out of bed, rushed to the normally nondescript corner, and craned their necks to see Marilyn Monroe in the flesh.
As the crowd watched the film crew set up, whispers quickly gathered pace. What was about to happen? Was Marilyn Monroe really going to make an appearance? The fans were curious, excited even, but not one person on that New York City street knew that they were watching history being made—the birth of an icon.
When Marilyn finally walked out into the night, it was like a thunderbolt had struck. She looked absolutely luminous. Fans cheered and clapped while the actress posed for anyone with a camera, though the snappers soon got on the nerves of Billy Wilder, who just wanted to get on with the scene. When he had first chosen the Trans-Lux Theater as a location, he apparently did so because he’d seen it at 2 a.m. and the whole street was somewhat quiet. Now that word had leaked, it was packed to the point of bursting. Still, he tried to ignore the chants and instead concentrated on the matter at hand—yelling “Action.”
Wearing a Travilla-designed, white pleated dress with a halter-neck top, Marilyn stepped onto a subway air vent, and whoosh! Her skirt flew up into the air, revealing long legs and white panties. The crowd was not expecting such a spectacle and went crazy. So much so, in fact, that Wilder had to strike a deal with them: if they could be quiet while the scene was shot, the camera would then be withdrawn and their photographs could be taken.
It didn’t quite work that way, however. Reporter Saul Pett was there to witness the event and noted that the scene required at least twenty takes, and every time the skirt blew up, fans �
��howled, whistled, and applauded.” When he got close enough to Marilyn to ask if she minded all the attention, she exclaimed, “Oh, I love it! I love it!”
One person who did not love it, however, was Joe DiMaggio. He took one look at the scene and turned on his heel. “Tell my wife I’ll see her back at the hotel,” he told friends as a film crew captured him stalking away in disgust. When Marilyn returned to her room later that evening, she did so knowing that her husband had greatly disapproved of the night’s spectacle. Over the years, many rumors have sprung up about what really happened that evening, with stories of Joe becoming violent and Marilyn deciding there and then to divorce him. Interestingly, drama coach Natasha Lytess quite contrarily stated that the room was firmly locked and the actress did not get inside at all. We can only speculate as to the private moments they shared in (or out of) that room, but it is worth pointing out that several friends reported a degree of violence during the entire marriage, not just on that particular evening.
The DiMaggios flew back to Los Angeles and Marilyn called in sick at the studio, claiming a cold. When reporters phoned the house, they were eager to know if the draft caused by the fans during the skirt scene was the reason for the illness. This, however, was laughed off by her doctor, who explained that Marilyn was suffering from a case of nervous exhaustion, brought on by the busy schedule of The Seven Year Itch.
In reality, the reporters weren’t far off the mark to think that the skirt scene was the cause of Marilyn’s absence, but at that point in time, no one knew just what kind of fallout it had created. When journalist Pete Martin later asked Marilyn if Joe had been furious or calm with the scene, she quietly replied, “One of those two is correct. Maybe you can figure it out for yourself, if you’ll give it a little thought.”
Ironically, the noise and fuss caused during the location shot in New York led to a retake on a Fox soundstage. The resulting scene was far more innocent than the one filmed on the street, and editing cut it down even more. In the end, anyone hoping to see Marilyn’s skirt fly high above her ears in the finished movie would be left disappointed.
Some fans asked if the scene had been shot more discreetly in the first place (or even left out altogether), would her marriage have imploded the way it did? The reality is that even if the scene had never gone ahead in front of an audience of thousands, the chances of the DiMaggio relationship surviving were pretty low. Marilyn was at the height of her career; she had enjoyed great success and was hungry for more. Joe, on the other hand, was a retired baseball player who was somewhat floundering between his past success and future career plans.
On the evening they met in 1952, Joe was the one who garnered attention from fans in the restaurant. Marilyn later remembered that they slapped him on the back and greeted him in such a way that she realized she was obviously in the company of a legendary man. Until that point, the actress had no interest in baseball and had barely heard of Joe DiMaggio. By 1954, however, it was Marilyn the fans wanted to see, and Joe did not appreciate that one bit. The two were headed in different directions, and there could be no possible outcome at that point in their lives except to divorce.
Earlier in 1954, columnist Earl Wilson had asked Marilyn if her career would intrude on her marriage. “Why should it?” she demanded. “I had my career when Joe and I met. He understands all that. I want him to have one now, a whole new one. He’s wonderful on radio and television. We’ll help each other…. A happy marriage comes before everything.” With that in mind, at the beginning of production on Itch, Marilyn had kept a copy of How to Cook Italian Foods in her dressing room and read it between takes. Just weeks later, it seemed like everything had changed.
Recovered from her illness and back on the set, Marilyn’s behavior was sometimes difficult to deal with. Tom Ewell said that during the marital problems, “she would slink off by herself, plainly miserable. I don’t think I ever felt more pity for anyone in my life.” Billy Wilder told Pete Martin that Marilyn seemed so upset and unconfident that he sometimes wished he was her psychoanalyst. He did note, however, that at no time during the entire shoot was she ever malicious to anyone on set.
It would be unfair to suggest that the marital problems were the sole reason there were various issues during filming. Historically speaking, making a movie with Marilyn was often fraught with difficulties, among them her lateness, anxiety, and stumbling over lines. Even worse was a reliance on acting coach Natasha Lytess, who would often take on the role of unofficial director, overriding production decisions whenever she saw fit. The teacher had driven numerous directors to distraction over the years, but she had never worked with Billy Wilder before, and he had an idea that she was completely oblivious to. Knowing that Natasha would take over the whole show if allowed to run free, Wilder devised a plan that would help everyone. Instead of allowing her to give Marilyn directions once the scene was shot, he would take Lytess to one side beforehand and explain what he would like the actress to do. The coach then took the instructions to Marilyn, and Wilder ultimately received his version of the scene and not Natasha’s.
Now that Marilyn’s marriage was in the midst of breaking down, a childhood stammer returned and she would often seem distant and in a world of her own. The fact that Marilyn had been able to make it onto the set at all was a miracle, considering what she was going through in her personal life, but with money firmly in their eyes, the studio bosses were not about to praise her bravery. Instead, they seethed over the actress’s holdups, and production executive Sid Rogell kept Zanuck up-to-date with every development. Everyone at the studio prayed that despite everything, the film would be finished successfully.
On September 27, just before Joe DiMaggio returned to the East Coast to cover the World Series, the couple decided to separate for good. They managed to keep it quiet for several days, but then word inevitably leaked out. On DiMaggio’s return to Los Angeles, he went back to the North Palm residence, but by this time the couple was on such bad terms that the house was divided. He took up residence downstairs while Marilyn remained in her upstairs bedroom.
On October 4, 1954, Marilyn’s lawyer, Jerry Giesler, served papers to the baseball star and then left the house to face a barrage of reporters waiting outside. These so-called “gentlemen of the press” acted disgracefully during days camped on the lawn of the DiMaggio home. Later, the Los Angeles Times complained that the scene played out like a rowdy film premiere, and one unnamed columnist actually kicked a powerful news anchor on the backside.
Giesler reassured reporters that Marilyn would not leave the house that day, but he’d try to arrange a press conference as soon as possible. According to the lawyer, his client was sick and not up to talking publicly at that time. He also added that Joe did not have any kind of legal counsel and that the charges would be mental cruelty, incompatibility, and a conflict of careers. No alimony would be sought, Marilyn was not pregnant, and the two remained friends. When asked if the skirt scene had anything to do with the decision to separate, Giesler steadfastly denied it. Instead, he said, the estranged couple had discussed their situation and come to an understanding.
When the couple did eventually leave the house separately, photographers recorded every moment. Joe DiMaggio went straight to his car, while Marilyn hung on to Giesler’s arm, tried to speak, and then began to cry. She was distraught, but being free from the stifling, pent-up atmosphere that had haunted her for months was ultimately liberating. Marilyn returned to the studio several days later, and was overheard telling her makeup man that she had finally had a good night’s sleep and felt “alive for the first time in days.” Meanwhile, Joe went to San Francisco for a short time, where he was greeted by reporters camped outside his front door. Unusually for him, DiMaggio actually invited the media into his home, where he explained that while he understood they had to ask such questions, he had absolutely no intention of speaking.
Some friends refused to believe that the marriage was actually over. Mark Scott, radio and television broad
caster and associate of DiMaggio, reported that the couple still appeared to be in love with each other. He described the situation as not irreconcilable and gave fans hope that there could be a halting of divorce proceedings. Joe’s brother Tom explained that he had been with him before the World Series. “There was no suggestion that anything was wrong,” he said. This was backed up by DiMaggio’s friend Reno Barsocchini, who claimed that everything was absolutely fine just a week before. According to him, Joe had been in San Francisco and had traveled back to Los Angeles to see Marilyn before planning a return to New York for work.
One reporter for the Bridgeport Telegram said that the separation had come like an “A-bomb…. There had been no hint of anything but harmony in the DiMaggio home.” This was wishful thinking at best, because Rex Barley, staff writer for the L.A. Mirror, was in the press box with DiMaggio for the World Series and described him as being exceptionally tense and quiet. “If you mentioned marriage, he was even more clam-like,” he said.
One person who was not shocked was Natasha Lytess. She had long hated Joe DiMaggio, and recalled an evening when the actress turned up at her door, disheveled and face puffy from crying. The couple had quarreled once again, and this time Marilyn begged Natasha to allow her to stay the night so that she did not have to return to North Palm. Shortly afterward, the couple separated and the drama coach breathed a sigh of relief. Calling him an “often morose baseball-star-with-muscles,” Lytess said that the couple had absolutely nothing in common and claimed to have once heard Marilyn shout at her husband in an effort to discover anything they might be able to do together. DiMaggio apparently replied that perhaps they could grow a little garden. Lytess said it was the most pathetic speech she had ever heard.
Nowadays, Joe DiMaggio’s desire to have a wife who did not work, stayed at home, cooked, and looked after him seems sexist and restrictive. However, it is important to remember that he was not living in the twenty-first century. In the 1950s, women were not expected to be ambitious. Instead, society predicted that they would leave school; seek employment somewhere like an office, factory, or shop; meet a nice young man; and get married and have babies. Many new wives gave up their jobs to take care of the home, and those who did not would likely stop working as soon as they started a family.
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