"In a spin,
loving the spin I'm in,
under that old black magic called love"
loving the spin I'm in,
under that old black magic called love"
I have yet to see a Marilyn Monroe movie. Somehow in my 25+ years of living, I’ve missed out on Some Like It Hot, or All About Eve, or Bus Stop. It’s clearly a major misstep in my film education, yet it doesn’t make My Week with Marilyn any less enjoyable for me. Simon Curtis’ film follows an aspiring filmmaker, Colin Clark, portrayed by Eddie Redmayne, who gets a job on the production of The Prince and the Showgirl. What follows is Colin’s account of his time growing close and falling in love with Marilyn Monroe (Michelle Williams). What’s great about this direction is that the character of Colin is new to this, just as we are; he’s an outsider looking in, trying to reconcile his understanding of Marilyn the “Icon” and Marilyn the person. It’s a fascinatingly different approach to anything I’ve ever seen about Ms. Monroe.
Much like Leonardo DiCaprio in J. Edgar, the main reason to see this film is Williams’ performance. The always incredible Michelle Williams is given the incredulous task of depicting one of the most iconic women in cinema history and she admirably rises to the occasion. Williams embodies Monroe wholly; from her look down to her voice even to the opposing dichotomy that is Marilyn the “Icon”: she’s both fragile and powerful, innocent yet sensual. It’s a tough character to understand; we don’t know her so it’s left to history and imaginations to create this image, yet somehow it seems right. Curtis and screenwriter Adrian Hodges haven’t set out to teach us anything new about Marilyn, just to give us a brief, entertaining look at a Hollywood legend around the peak of her career and close to the end of her life. The cinematography, editing, and score are all fine. Nothing exceptional or breathtaking, but they serve the story and to that end, are successful. Aside from the aforementioned praise, Williams also gets to dabble in singing some of Ms. Monroe’s iconic songs. In a chilling coda, we are treated to a somber rendition of ‘That Old Black Magic’ that quite appropriately sums up Colin’s, and our own, journey with the quintessential American sex symbol.
