Overeating again became a consolation. Lena Pepitone spent countless hours conjuring up her favorite Italian dishes. Miller would sometimes dine with Monroe, never speaking at the dinner table. The scene was always the same—Miller sipped his wine, Marilyn her champagne, until Miller would excuse himself, not having spoken a single word. Most often Marilyn would eat alone, indulging himself in plentiful second helpings.
On occasional evenings Marilyn took calls from Frank Sinatra. Gossiping with him for hours, she longed to return to work. Hollywood seemed especially tantalizing while she remained cooped up in her New York apartment with few social contacts other than with her maids. Marilyn made it a point to mention to Frank that she had recently spoken to DiMaggio, hoping to goad Sinatra, but he had the good sense to leave the bait alone. And when she spoke to Joe, she casually mentioned that she had spoken to Frank, inspiring a flash of the famous DiMaggio temper.
Ever since they had first met, Sinatra had always paid special attention to Monroe. After her separation from DiMaggio he had immediately offered her one of his homes in the Hollywood Hills. But Marilyn politely refused; the strings attached to the very generous offer were visible and Marilyn cherished her privacy.
With much effort, Marilyn’s psychiatrist had finally convinced her that getting back to work would be the best thing for her. She would make another try at what she did best, good comedy. Her excess weight began to disappear magically as she imagined herself in front of the camera again.
Word quickly spread throughout the film industry that Marilyn had recovered, and scripts began arriving. This time she would read each one herself; no one would pressure her into a project she did not believe in. She fancied the screenplay Let’s Make Love, a pet project of George Cukor’s, with a script by Norman Krasna. She demanded that her husband tailor the necessary script changes to her liking, barking, “This time we’ll do it my way.”
The male character, formerly a billionaire, was changed to a multimillionaire who anonymously joins the cast of a Broadway show and falls in love with a girl who does not like millionaires. Cary Grant, Rock Hudson, and Gregory Peck were originally interested in the lead, but reconsidered when Miller’s script changes were submitted to them. Marilyn’s soaring confidence plummeted as the stars’ disappearances led the actress to believe she again had become undesirable.
Miller soon got another chance to influence Marilyn’s career. Two practicing Communists, Yves Montand and his wife, actress Simone Signoret, were in town. The central government of the Soviet Union was so proud of Montand’s Communist stand that it commissioned a lyrical song to be written in his honor. And the Soviets sang it with glee. (Not until some years later did Montand denounce Communism, and his songs disappeared under Soviet censorship.) The song-and-dance man was to star in a one-man Broadway show, and repeated attempts had failed to gain the couple admittance into the United States. While Monroe was filming Prince and the Showgirl in London, Arthur had traveled to Paris to view the production of his play The Crucible, centered around the Salem, Massachusetts, witch trials during colonial times. As the Montands were starring in the play, Arthur had befriended them.
The Montands were invited to dine privately at the Millers’. In view of Miller’s label as a communist sympathizer perhaps he did not want to risk the adverse publicity that might result if he were seen dining publicly with two professed Communists. Marilyn’s maid, Lena, was to prepare dinner for the foursome. As Yves walked through their front-door apartment, Marilyn broke into a large smile that never left her face the entire evening. Montand bore some resemblance to her favorite man, Joe DiMaggio. Yves was tall, had a large head, mouth, and protruding nose. Born October 13, 1921, in Monsummano Alto, Italy, of peasants who claimed to be antifascist, he had fled Italy as Mussolini came to power and was raised in poverty in Marseilles, France. As a youngster Montand hustled as a busboy, barber, bartender, and factory laborer before his local singing debut at eighteen. While working his way through the Parisian music halls, he had met internationally renowned Edith Piaf and gone on to stardom as one of France’s leading entertainers. Piaf supported his singing career straight into films as she negotiated his first film role in Etoile sans Lumière (Star Without Light), but he continued to be known first as a singer.
Montand had his own special brand of charm. He mesmerized his hostess with his dazzling smile, acting as if there were no other woman in the world. But Marilyn was distracted by Montand’s wife. Signoret was not a glamour girl. She had a mature intelligence and sensitivity as an actress that won her international fame and acclaim. What galled Marilyn the most about her was not that she was unexpectedly married to such a charming man, but that the Frenchwoman enticed the ordinarily docile Arthur Miller to speak at length about politics. Because Montand did not speak much English and his wife spent the better part of the evening translating for her husband, Marilyn was relegated to the background. That night Marilyn wanted more than anything to be able to converse in French. She and Montand shared many stolen glances while Marilyn began fantasizing about luring him away from his “grandmother” wife.
Once the Montands had left, Marilyn began a thorough investigation of the Montands by making phone calls across the continent to whoever might have the goods on the couple. Driven by curiosity to probe their relationship, she discovered that Montand had gotten his big break as a singer through his relationship with the great Edith Piaf, then had married the respected actress Simone Signoret. Marilyn recognized his type, the charmer who works his way to the top with the help of older, more powerful, successful women. The stage was set for Marilyn’s big play.
Following the preview of his Broadway show, Marilyn found ways to spend more time with her new love interest, and she began dreaming they could play opposite each other in a film. But his English was impossible. Marilyn talked a blue streak about Montand to anyone willing to listen, Miller’s children and parents being first. She bragged that Montand was actually Jewish and had successfully dodged the Nazis.
She suggested that Yves be cast in Let’s Make Love. Neither Miller nor executives at Twentieth agreed, on the grounds that his English was virtually nonexistent. The actress insisted that he would learn, implying that she would “teach him.”
Because both had successfully emerged from obscurity, Marilyn thought Montand a sort of kindred spirit. She loved the facility with which he could croon the popular songs of the incomparable Maurice Chevalier and then, in the same breath, resort to doing imitations of Donald Duck.
Miller fanned the liaison between Marilyn and Yves by acting as their translator. He was pleased that his wife had regained her zest for life, even if it was for another man! While Miller wrote in solitude in his study, Marilyn and Yves sat comfortably holding hands and sipping champagne on the living-room sofa. They would suddenly separate every time Miller opened the door.
Marilyn began pushing her “star.” Since his Broadway act was held over for almost two weeks in New York, pitching him was easy. Then the show was taken to Los Angeles, and after another string of excellent reviews, Marilyn sold her new star. Hollywood agreed with Marilyn, but the Strasbergs didn’t. Lee and Paula warned that he was not a believable millionaire, and that his broken English, even with Marilyn’s help, could not possibly allow him to understand the character if he did not know what he was saying. They advised that a mature, sophisticated actor like Cary Grant would be far better and more convincing in the role. Already committed to Yves, a stubborn Marilyn would not listen to even her acting genius. Just the thought of doing a movie with Montand as her love interest made her feel buoyant.
Once Montand had secured the part, Marilyn wanted her performance to equal his. So she hired a private dance instructor named Mara Lynn to give her lessons in her apartment, turning their living room into a Broadway stage and thereby further antagonizing her husband. Dressed in black leotards and black net tights, Monroe slinked around the apartment dancing and singing up a storm. She wanted more than ever before t
o be perfect for her new “love.”
In the middle of rehearsing, the Twentieth publicity department contacted Marilyn to request that she appear before Russia’s premier, Nikita Khrushchev, who would be visiting the studio. America’s best-known products in the Soviet Union were Coca-Cola’s trademark and Marilyn Monroe. After trying to convince her, to no avail, they enticed Frank Sinatra, who was the master of ceremonies, to do his part in persuading the actress. Frank mentioned that such Hollywood notables as Elizabeth Taylor, Eddie Fisher, Bob Hope, Gregory Peck, Richard Burton, June Allyson, and Rita Hayworth would be attending. Monroe already harbored animosity toward Elizabeth Taylor for her youth and beauty, but especially because she was paid more per film than was Marilyn. Sinatra manipulated Monroe into showing up only by promising that the actress would get to sit at Khrushchev’s table, the highest honor bestowed on America’s greatest star. Because of his purported Communist sympathies, it was decided not to invite Marilyn’s husband. The studio demanded that Monroe appear in her tightest, most revealing gown for the premier.
While dining at Khrushchev’s table, a Russian diplomat asked about her husband Arthur Miller. She was happy to be asked about something other than her beauty and body. Later Marilyn would admit that a smitten Nikita made a pass at her by grabbing her hand tightly while giving her the “eye.” He had hoped and expected that America was presenting its “queen” for his pleasure. But the leader was badly mistaken. Marilyn described him as a fat, ugly little man with warts on his face who growled when he spoke. She was relieved that he did not try to kiss her. Nonetheless, Marilyn felt it was a great honor to be introduced to the “supreme enemy” during the height of the cold war and to have won his approval. After meeting with the Hollywood icon of her time on September 19, 1959, Khrushchev overcame the disappointment of not being allowed to visit Disneyland, his favorite amusement park, for security reasons, after having already dined with Marilyn Monroe. The premier first made a scene demanding that he be taken to Disneyland, yelling that either the mob was out to kill him or there must be hidden missiles planted there. Acting as a mediator, Frank Sinatra offered to personally escort Mrs. Khrushchev. When given the final no for security reasons, Sinatra appeared quite the hero for his debonair display of chivalry!
Fidel Castro had already completed his march into Havana at the head of a guerrilla army and seized the American gambling interests, prostitution rings, and abortion mills that had thrived under the venal Fulgencio Batista. The son of a sugar plantation owner, groomed in Jesuit schools and a product of Havana University Law School, Castro at thirty-three abandoned his law career in favor of dethroning Batista. He then flew to Washington like a “good neighbor,” promising that his new regime would not follow communism. But later the United States government was enraged when Cuba bought a shipment of crude oil from the USSR. Castro nationalized the island’s American companies, further straining Cuban-American relations.
Vice President Richard M. Nixon had recently debated Premier Khrushchev in Moscow, paving the way for his presidential election bid in 1960. FBI Director Hoover was still denying the existence of a national crime syndicate, instead stressing that communist subversion was the major threat to the nation. Senator John Kennedy was still maintaining a suite on the eighth floor of Washington’s Mayflower Hotel as his personal orgy playpen. Originally introduced to Jack Kennedy in late 1955 by brother-in-law Peter Lawford, Frank Sinatra, as the leader of Hollywood’s “Rat Pack,” indefatigably supplied the Massachusetts senator with names and telephone numbers of attractive, sexually available women. Of course Sinatra would receive the red-carpet treatment from the senator. Lawford also pimped for Jack, and Peter’s young friend Jack Naar pimped for Lawford. It evolved into one big “I’ll scratch your back if you scratch mine” fraternity of the Kennedys of Washington and the Rat Packers of Hollywood.
As the mastermind behind his son’s presidential campaign, patriarch Joe Kennedy invited Sinatra to Palm Beach to coordinate his plans for Frank as a fund raiser and quasi-social director. Especially since his success in pulling off Khrushchev’s visit, Frank was in demand as the social kingpin of Hollywood’s elite and Joe recognized his formidable influence and power as an asset to his son’s political aspirations. Joe asked Ol’ Blue Eyes to sing a campaign song for Jack. They chose “High Hopes” and Jimmy Van Heusen to rework the lyrics.
Sinatra reciprocated by inviting the senior Kennedy to Cal-Neva Lodge in Tahoe to dine and vacation with Sam Giancana. Jack Kennedy’s mind was on meeting girls while Sinatra created Hollywood backing for Joseph Kennedy. In planning the campaign the senior Kennedy secured Jack’s participation in election mandates and ensured that his son had an unending parade of women. Thus fatefully unfolded the natural progression for America’s political darling to connect with America’s sex-symbol sweetheart.
Propelling herself into every aspect of Love was the way Marilyn chose to delay committing to The Misfits for her husband. The screenplay, the storyline, and the lead character fell short in Marilyn’s eyes. She especially despised the lead, Roslyn. Marilyn saw her as an oversensitive woman who was not able to communicate without having a “fit” and one who would not give her husband a second chance. But as written Roslyn was willing to quickly get involved with three men. Despite her penchant for expanding the depth of her previous characters, Miss Monroe knew intuitively that this character was in trouble. Yet trying to appease the distant Miller and feeling inadequate for not being “woman” enough to bear his children, Marilyn overcompensated in her attempts to please her husband. Since he had no recent recognition for his talents and already had peaked as a playwright, she accurately sensed that he was looking to her to supply his big break as screenwriter.
Frank Taylor, Miller’s first paid editor at Viking Press, had been visiting the couple in Connecticut with his sons, who had asked to be introduced to Marilyn. Miller graciously obliged his friend. But Taylor was interested more in Miller’s recent works. The writer offered his only piece: a screenplay based on a short story about some of his experiences while anticipating his final divorce decree. Taylor suggested that John Huston would be the appropriate director, and the screenplay was sent to Paris, where Huston was still shooting the ill-fated Roots of Heaven.
Still in his ecological period, Huston found Miller’s treatment of the slaughter of mustangs magnificent. On the same floor of Huston’s Paris hotel was United Artists executive Elliott Hyman, who proposed his Seven Arts Productions, then a subsidiary of United Artists, as the production house for the picture. The proposition was well-received by Miller, who felt that agreeing to limited distribution would allow him greater creative control. With Music Corporation of America representing Monroe and Miller and agent Paul Kohner representing Huston and United Artists, the picture was taking form. It was assumed that Monroe would play Roslyn and Clark Gable the part of Gay Langland, the seasoned cowboy who falls for her. Marilyn’s agent, George Chasin, also representing Gable, sent the script along with his positive recommendation to Italy, where Gable was filming It Happened in Naples. Gable responded with enthusiasm. Perhaps he recalled his earlier wish to play opposite Marilyn Monroe.
With director and lead actors in hand, the screenplay still had no producer. Miller suddenly imposed upon Frank Taylor to produce; he needed the support of someone who truly respected his talents. Marilyn obliged her husband by agreeing to use Taylor’s embryonic producing talents, knowing full well that he had virtually no previous filmmaking experience. Taylor first said he was incapable of the position, but after Arthur begged in desperation, he acceded. Acting like a producer himself, Miller began lining up publicity for the picture. He arranged for his future wife, Inge Morath, to be part of the photographic team that would capture the production for American, English, French, Italian, and German magazines. While still employed as an editor for Western Publishing, Taylor persuaded his seniors to grant him a leave of absence. The team had cast the supporting roles. The young cowboy Perce Howland was to
be played by Montgomery Clift; Guido, Langland’s partner, by Eli Wallach; and Isabelle, the silly Nevada divorcee, by Thelma Ritter. With all the method actors involved, the plan was to shoot the script chronologically, giving the performers a chance to adequately develop their characters. Their availability was coordinated for the fall of 1959—until Marilyn put a kink in the carefully manipulated shooting plans.
The Misfits had all the earmarks of a financial disaster as noted industry reporters agreed with Monroe’s reservations. A number of questions were surfacing. What was The Misfits? A play or a book? Had Arthur Miller ever written a screenplay before? When was the last time John Huston’s or, for that matter, Clark Gable’s films made any real money? Could Marilyn play a serious dramatic role and would her fans run to the movie houses to see her as an aging sex machine? Why would a black-and-white film cost $3.5 million, and who would go to see it? And who was Frank Taylor anyway?
A book editor turned film producer was hardly enough to persuade Monroe that the film would have artistic merit. She balked every time Miller tried to convince her otherwise. Still remembering his dubious input regarding her past film failures, at this point Marilyn was looking for a way out of their relationship; maybe this would do.
Her attraction to Montand made for perfect diversion. Against Miller’s and Strasberg’s best advice, the actress committed to Let’s Make Love.
In early 1960 the Millers returned to the West Coast, residing in a Beverly Hills Hotel bungalow while Marilyn filmed Love with Montand. The Montands rented a bungalow adjoining the Millers’. This cozy setup allowed Monroe and Montand to travel to and from the studio together every day. With Yves and Paula by her side, Marilyn lost her usual inhibitions and glowed on the set. Meanwhile Miller took off to Ireland to confer with Huston on his screenplay. Her chances no doubt enhanced by the publicity from associating with Marilyn Monroe, Simone Signoret received an Oscar for Room at the Top, and Yves sang at the ceremony. Marilyn’s rival had got the award and the man! Seething resentment poisoned the relationship between Marilyn and Simone.
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