‘Marilyn in Manhattan’ gives readers a look at Monroe’s yearlong love affair with New York
Marilyn Monroe was done with life as a ditz.
Late in 1954, Hollywood’s hottest new star pulled a dark wig over her famed flaxen locks, renamed herself Zelda — and fled from the past.
The not-so-dumb blonde forged a secret alliance with Look photographer Milton Greene to seize power from her studio, 20th Century Fox, and its tyrannical head, Daryl Zanuck.
The two formed a production company, and the star of “How To Marry a Millionaire” spent the next year living in Manhattan.
Her 1955 stay in the city became little more than a pretentious footnote in the tragic Monroe saga. Zanuck, and everyone else, sneered when she revealed her ambition was to play Grushenka in Dostoyevsky’s “The Brothers Karamazov.”
But in a new book, “Marilyn in Manhattan: Her Year of Joy,” respected biographer Elizabeth Winder reveals months of triumph as Monroe conquered both her fears and city’s elite.
Monroe initially bolted for the picture-perfect Connecticut farmhouse shared by Greene, wife Amy and baby son Josh. Amy handled the impossible duty of convincing Marilyn not to order clothes one size too small.
One night, Marilyn returned the favor to Amy with the perfect gift. Frank Sinatra was incensed when a table appeared mid-song before the Copacabana stage as he performed.
But Sinatra saw it was Marilyn and all was good. Amy tagged along to the afterparty at the 21 Club — and later shared a nightcap at Marlene Dietrich’s apartment.
Monroe soon made her next big move. For the first time she was going to live alone, albeit in a shabby suite at the Gladstone Hotel, at 52nd and Lexington Ave., near Greene’s photo studio.
Everyone noted how intense the relationship was between the two. Greene and Monroe shared a brief affair in Hollywood, but now their passion was for her future.
At the Gladstone, Monroe was taken up by the waifish Southern writer Carson McCullers, whose fearsome literary talent (“The Member of the Wedding”) was offset by her ferocious alcoholism.
Monroe started to hang with the literati. She became friendly with Tennessee Williams, but Truman Capote was a true buddy. They’d take long walks, get silly, and have pillow fights, but she refused to listen to his sordid gossip about top-tier Manhattan socialites.
He insisted Babe Paley, the beauty who ruled the social scene, was convinced her powerful husband, William, the head of CBS, was sleeping with Marilyn.
But Monroe wanted giggles, not sordid asides.
McCullers introduced Monroe to the woman who would make Monroe’s New York dreams come true, powerful theater producer Cheryl Crawford.
There was no reason for the hard-bitten Crawford to take the blond bombshell seated across from her at dinner seriously — but she did.
Crawford was a founder of the Actors Studio, and the next morning she slipped Monroe in through the back door on West 46th St.
Marlon Brando, Jack Lord, Kim Stanley and Anne Jackson were already inside, immersed in their dark lord Lee Strasberg’s exhortations on The Method, an internalized style of acting despised in Hollywood.
Strasberg was almost unseemly in his eagerness to take Monroe under his wing, agreeing to coach her three nights a week in his Central Park West apartment until she worked up the courage to show her face onstage at the Studio.
Brando, still immersed in his white T-shirt and leather jacket phase, smoldered on their evenings out on the town. But he was also someone she could call in the wee hours to work through a difficult scene.
Monroe was now a New York insider, making the scene at Broadway premieres, attending events with the diamond-bedazzled Gloria Vanderbilt, having a laugh with the guys at the 21 Club, or kicking off her shoes to samba at El Morocco deep into the night.
The city was in love with her. The folks at 20th Century Fox were not.
The studio plotted revenge against their runaway star. Sheree North, an “ersatz Monroe” according to a columnist, was cast in two pictures rejected by Marilyn. The headlines were huge.
Her outfit was more cleavage than costume, the fishnet stockings were pure sex. The crowd went wild and the pictures went worldwide.
When Monroe finally steeled herself to take classes at the Studio, her fellow students — including Paul Newman, Patricia Neal, Ben Gazzara, and Ellen Burstyn — were less than eager to welcome Strasberg’s celebrity pet.
“She saw her classmates as colleagues — they saw her as a vampy pinup girl,” Winder writes.
Marilyn, dressed down in men’s crewneck sweaters and no makeup, tackled the work. Strasberg drew her even closer, making her part of his family with the approval of his wife Paula.
On nights when Monroe slept over, their son Johnny resentfully surrendered his room. “He was the only boy in America not happy to have Marilyn Monroe sleeping in his bed,” his teen sister Susie later joked.
Susie and Monroe bonded almost as girlfriends. One night the pair practiced positions from a dusty copy of the Kama Sutra they found on the shelf. Monroe was the male.
Boy, this is a switch,” she said.
Monroe soon upgraded to a three-room Waldorf-Astoria suite. She was blossoming and seemed to finally believe in herself, scribbling encouraging notes on the creamy hotel stationary. One read, “Not a scared little girl anymore.”
Then along came Arthur Miller, again.
In 1951, the 36-year-old writer first met Monroe in Hollywood. Their encounter of a few days was intense, but Miller had a wife and three children in Brooklyn Heights.
This time he wasn’t in such a hurry to get home. Amy Greene failed to see exactly what Monroe did in the Pulitzer Prize winning playwright.
“I have never been so bored with a human being in my life,” Amy said later.
But Miller became Monroe’s new guide to life. Through him she discovered Brooklyn, announcing it was her “favorite place in the world.”
In June, “The Seven Year Itch,” the last movie Monroe made before bolting Hollywood, premiered. Her white skirt billowed upwards over the subway grate and Monroe was the biggest star in the world.
It took a long summer for things to fall into place, and Monroe was once again digging deep into her stash of pills.
Then Miller’s wife finally threw him out, and Fox offered Monroe an $8 million payday. She was to play Cherie, the broken-down “chanteuse,” as she called herself, with Hollywood dreams in “Bus Stop,” a prestige project by playwright William Inge.
On Dec. 31, 1955, Monroe signed a new contract with Fox giving her approval over directors. Los Angeles loomed in her future.
Her final landmark New York moment came just before she headed west. Monroe made her debut as Anna Christie onstage at the Actors Studio.
“She achieved greatness in that scene,” Ellen Burstyn said later. “It was some of the best work they’d ever seen at the Studio, and certainly the best interpretation of ‘Anna Christie’ anyone ever saw.”
“Bus Stop” was another triumph, the reviews glorious. On July 1, 1956, Monroe returned to New York to marry Miller. In the moments before the ceremony, she begged Milton and Amy Greene to tell her if she was making a mistake.
“Oh what the hell,” Monroe finally decided. “We can’t disappoint the guests.”
But Miller always resented Greene’s influence over Monroe. After the disastrous “The Prince and the Showgirl” shoot, where Laurence Olivier raged at Marilyn throughout, Miller got his way and Greene departed.
At the final meeting, a phalanx of lawyers stood by to protect Monroe’s interests. But Greene only asked for half of his $100,000 initial investment.
“Take more,” Monroe whispered to him across the table.
“No,” Greene said firmly. “Let me be the one in your life to never take more.”
With that, Monroe was free to face her future. Soon enough, she was a scared little girl once more.
“Marilyn in Manhattan” is on sale March 14.
Article by New York Daily News http://www.nydailynews.com/new-york/marilyn-manhattan-monroe-new-york-love-affair-article-1.2982232