The Secret Life of Marilyn Monroe

well as to the public, that she could be a good wife and mother. However, it now appeared that she could be neither. Her disappointment in herself combined with the drugs she was taking to sleep and then to awake caused her to exist in a clouded state of mind that made it impossible for her to reason out her problems. Add alcohol to the mix—champagne for the most part since most other drinks made her sick to her stomach, though that didn’t always stop her—and the combination was potentially lethal. She had gotten to the point where she would pour herself a glass of champagne with trembling hands, snap open a capsule, and then pour the contents right into the glass for a quicker high. Or, for an even faster effect, she would just pour the crystals under her tongue. Because she had lost interest in so much in her life, she began to gain weight. She didn’t care. She had been struggling to stay thin for so many years, she felt she deserved the right to be fat. She gained about twenty pounds during this time.

There was no telling how one might find Marilyn—seeming happy and content or morose and depressed. Still, people obviously wanted to be around her, wanted to be in her presence.

Two separate visits at this time tell differing stories:

The first involved Marilyn’s half sister, Berniece. Marilyn called her one day seeming desperate. “I tried all day to call you, yesterday,” she told her when she finally reached her. “And this morning I tried three times!” She made it clear that she needed to see Berniece. In speaking to her, she kept talking about how much she admired Berniece’s marriage to Paris Miracle. It was clear to Berniece, as she would later tell it, that Marilyn was having problems in her marriage. Berniece made plans to go, but then, at the last minute, her husband forbade her to travel alone. Paris later said that he had a trip planned for New York, where Marilyn lived. Berniece wanted to go with him, of course, and use that opportunity to visit Marilyn. Paris said no. It was a business trip, he said—no wives allowed. But then while he was in New York, he went to visit Marilyn, and took his business associates with him! At any rate, Marilyn could not have been nicer to Paris and his friends. She appeared after having bought flowers, her arms full of dogwood blossoms. Everyone had cocktails, which she served, and she signed pictures for the entire group—“Love and kisses from your sister-in-law to Paris.” One of Paris’s friends tried to sneak out of Marilyn’s home with a highball glass, which was apparently too large to fit under his jacket. In the midst of all this, Marilyn seemed fine.

A couple of days later, Marilyn’s psychiatrist, Dr. Marianne Kris, came to visit. The story was a very different one, as told by Barbara Miller (no relation to Arthur), the daughter of a friend of Dr. Kris’s. She, her mother, brother, and Dr. Kris all arrived at the same time to visit Marilyn and Arthur. “It wasn’t pleasant,” she recalled. “I was about twelve, but I remember it well. I was a big fan of Marilyn Monroe’s and couldn’t wait to meet her. She was a lot heavier than I thought she’d be, but still she was very beautiful. She came swooping into the living room to greet us in a floral-printed caftan that was just lovely. She had her hair long, to her shoulders—very blonde. I remember she had the most delicate hands with tapering fingers, her nails painted red. She was very nice, but seemed… I guess tipsy would be the word.”

Barbara Miller recalls what happened after everyone was seated in the living room:

“Would you like a Bloody Mary?” Marilyn asked the adults. “And a soft drink for you?” she offered, looking at the young girl. The adults said they would all prefer soft drinks. “Fine,” Marilyn said with a smile. “I generally don’t like to drink alone, but I’ll make an exception today.” She then called out the name of their maid. When no one appeared, she called again. Finally, she screamed out, “Arthur, where is the goddamn maid?” Still, no answer. She shook her head and rolled her eyes. “My secretary, Mary [Reis], isn’t in today and my husband is somewhere trying to write,” she said, according to Miller’s memory. “He’s having a difficult time, though.”

According to Miller, Dr. Kris studied Marilyn carefully and said, “Dear, is there someplace where you and I might talk? I’d like to speak to you alone.”

Marilyn eyed the doctor suspiciously and said, “I think we’ve done enough talking, Doctor, don’t you? I’m fine, really I am. All I need is a Bloody Mary if I could just get the goddamn maid to come in here. Jesus Christ,” she concluded. “I’ll go get it myself, and the soft drinks too.” She rose.

“You don’t seem fine,” the doctor said, while the other two guests sat in awkward silence.

“Goddamn it,” Marilyn snapped, now standing and facing the doctor, her eyes blazing. “Why can’t you leave me alone? I’ve had it with you. I’m sick of going over and over and over the same things. I’m not going to do it anymore.” With that, she turned and walked out of the room, leaving her guests in stunned silence. They wondered whether or not she would return. Or should they just go? Ten minutes later—just as everyone was preparing to depart—Arthur Miller appeared. “My wife asked me to apologize to you all,” he said, looking very contrite. “She’s not been well. It’s just been awful, and I hope you’ll accept our sincere apologies and come back another time.” Then, turning to the doctor, he said, “Could you please call me later? I must speak with you. It’s urgent.” Dr. Kris said that she would certainly make the call. Everyone then agreed that it was best for the visit to end. However, just as the small group got to the front door, Marilyn came walking out from one of the back rooms. In her hands was a tray of drinks. “Wait,” she said, gazing at them with astonishment. “You’re leaving? But I have drinks! Wouldn’t you like to sit down and talk?”

“She was a totally different person,” said Barbara Miller. “She was smiling and cheerful and it was as if she had no memory at all of what had occurred earlier. We said, no, we have to run. She looked disappointed. Then she gave each of us a hug. As we were departing, she smiled and told Dr. Kris, ‘Okay, I’ll be calling you tomorrow. Bye-bye.’ When the door closed, I remember the adults standing in the hallway looking at each other with worried expressions. Then, in the cab, no one said a word. Everyone just sat and stared straight ahead.”

Some Like It Hot

By May 1958, Arthur Miller had convinced Marilyn that she needed to return to work—or at least that’s what he told his friends. It’s also possible that Marilyn had come to terms with the fact that as she put it to one intimate, “someone needs to bring some money in this house,” so it might as well be her. She put her agents to work on finding the right project. After a few false starts, Billy Wilder submitted a two-page proposal to Marilyn for a film he was writing called Some Like It Hot. On July 7, Marilyn departed for Los Angeles to begin work on the movie.

Every single person who contributed his or her talent to Some Like It Hot can be assured that it was the group collaboration that made it the comedy classic it is, and arguably one of the best pictures ever made. They can also be assured that without Marilyn Monroe and Billy Wilder, it would have been just another funny film. Wilder lifted the central premise from an obscure German movie musical, Fanfares of Love—that of two unemployed musicians who resort to cross-dressing in order to join an all-female band—and stretched it into two hours of unmitigated hilarity. Adding the subplot of the St. Valentine’s Day Massacre and its fallout is the engine that drives the train. (Wilder’s writing partner on this and many other scripts was I. A. L. Diamond, and the film earned them an Oscar nomination for best adapted screenplay.)

Now that they had a script—or at least they had one in mind—the next concern was how to cast it. According to one source, Wilder early on envisioned Danny Kaye and Bob Hope as the drag duo. Tony Curtis received a verbal pitch for the film from Wilder himself and agreed to sign on. Then when Frank Sinatra expressed an interest in the project, Wilder toyed with the idea because he needed a “name” to get studio financing. He was actually relieved when Sinatra dropped out, though, because Ol’ Blue Eyes was well known for following his own rules—shooting nine to five, limited retakes, and other special treatment. Wilder was happy to keep it A Billy Wilder Film. Meanwhile, Mitzi Gaynor was being considered for the role of Sugar Kane, due mainly to her excellent showing in the recently released South Pacific. But then Marilyn launched a campaign for the part. Her box-office pull had placed her on Quigley’s list of Top Ten stars for three years, and though she had been absent from the screen for the two previous years, attending drama classes at the Actors Studio and trying to shore up her disintegrating marriage, her popularity with the fans was at an all-time high.

Marilyn’s legendary reputation for causing delays apparently was overlooked and she was signed for the film for $200,000 plus 10 percent of the gross over $4 million. In its initial release, the movie earned $25 million, which comes to $215.4 million in today’s dollars, enough to place it at number 150 in the top-grossing films of all time. Marilyn’s share: $2.3 million

The first actual footage filmed was a scene that took place at the standing train set at MGM Studios in Culver