So, I watched "My Week With Marilyn" with Michelle Williams. It is centered around the filming of "The Prince and the Showgirl" in England, and the connection she had with a young Brit (Eddie Redmayne) working on the film. Redmayne gives a sweet performance through the inevitable heartbreak as Icarus flying too close to the sun. The interesting thing about Marilyn is that she herself was a caricature. Her actual persona was larger than life, and anyone playing her has to walk the line of honest portrayal and over-the-top drag impersonation. Michelle Williams did a lovely job, though she focused on the fragile, self-conscious, psychoses riddled side of her. Marilyn Monroe is one of those enigmatic creatures that has an effect on everyone, you want to know her, help her, be her friend, sleep with her, protect her. The film was well done, and it's unfortunate that Kenneth Branagh's Olivier was overshadowed, he always is excellent. More so than anything it made me curious about Marilyn. I wanted to know how screwed up she was, was she screwed up, what she thought about her fame, what she was feeling. I guess that is the sign of a good biopic. It is strange to me that, even fifty years after her death, we are still so enamored with her. She is both the epitome of sex and so innocent at the same time. I wonder if she didn't know exactly what she was doing. This film shows a self-conscious and doubting side of her that is often left out, and leaves me with a more human picture of an icon.
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EntropyThis Blog serves as a place for my ramblings and commentary. I write about my process and sometimes verbally vomit. Enjoy Archives
July 2016
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