Marilyn Monroe (15 page)

But sometimes work took a back seat and Marilyn would go ‘people-watching’ at Union Station, or stargazing in Hollywood. Johnny Grant, Hollywood’s honorary Mayor and friend of Marilyn in the early days, remembered, ‘She used to like to sit in the Roosevelt Hotel Lobby, observing people, and would occasionally make new friends. She had a mad crush on Clark Gable and would stand in front of his house, hoping to see him come or go. She would also often place her hands and feet in the moulds of other stars at Grauman’s Chinese Theatre.’ Unfortunately, at this point in time it must have seemed that her dream of stardom was just as far away as it had been when she had done the same thing as a little girl.

It was during this time of aloneness and very little work that some authors have claimed she became a call girl. However, Marilyn effectively responded to such stories in 1953 when she spoke about being broke and receiving a phone call from a man who wanted to ‘help’ her: ‘He gave details of what I would be expected to do. He was brutally frank and all I could think of to say was that he shouldn’t talk that way over a public telephone. I didn’t realize how silly that sounded until I hung up and then I started to laugh.’

It seems highly unlikely that the girl who constantly complained of being pestered by ‘wolves’ would ever sell herself for money. But while that story is ridiculous, it is nothing compared to another rumour that, at this point in her life, Marilyn became pregnant and gave the baby up for adoption. Bill Pursel laughs at both theories: ‘Wow! I don’t believe this for one moment. As far as I know this is a bunch of poppycock. I do know there were several women jealous of her after she became Marilyn Monroe and besides, call girls earn big money – I saw no evidence of this with her. I would put no credence at all in these rumours. It’s nothing but bilge . . . blather . . . hogwash . . . someone’s cheap imagination. It sorta makes me angry, or can’t you tell? She wasn’t pregnant when I knew her; she probably had several boyfriends over the years, but when these stories exaggerate the involvement into pregnancy or even intimacy they are way out
of bounds. She had too much class to be so careless about who she dated. At least this is where I come from.’

This is backed up by agent Harry Lipton, in an article for
Motion Picture
in May 1956. He described a party in which a high-powered man offered Marilyn gifts in exchange for certain favours: ‘she refused, turned to her agent, demanded they leave and cried all the way home in the car. ‘What can I say to men like that, Harry?’ she asked her agent, to which he replied, ‘You’ll learn.’ This hardly seems the behaviour of a seasoned call girl, and a hungry one at that.

Marilyn moved around a lot at this time and sometimes found herself staying at the home of Aunt Enid and Uncle Stan Knebelkamp, in order to save money while commuting to and from Hollywood. She also lived in her fair share of cheap apartments, including one on Avon Street, where she later claimed to have experienced a trauma that left her extremely shaken and distressed. Although there are several versions of what actually happened, the general gist of the story is that Marilyn had received her last pay cheque from Twentieth Century Fox and, as the bank was closed, was seeking another way of cashing it. She was in the process of asking a restaurant manager, when she was approached by a policeman, who offered to accompany her to a clothes shop across the street. Once there, Marilyn wrote her name and address on the cheque; cashed it; thanked the policeman and left.

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.’

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 report 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.