The Secret Life Of Marilyn Monroe Part 11

One might have thought that things would have taken a turn for the better when, in October, Marilyn learned that she was once again pregnant. Of course, she was overjoyed by the news. She had been scheduled to accept a film award in France, but was happy to have a good reason to decline. In a two-page Western Union telegram to the Academie du Cinema in Paris, dated November 26, 1958, she said in part, "I had greatly looked forward to coming to Paris and receiving the honor which you so graciously awarded me (stop) However nature intervened and I am expecting a baby (stop) Because of some recent complications in regards to the pregnancy my doctor has forbidden travel of any kind."

It's not clear what Arthur Miller thought of the pregnancy, though he didn't seem very happy. "At this point, I think Marilyn put Arthur out of her mind and began to think, okay, I can have this child and go on with my life without my husband, and at least I won't be alone," said Rupert Allan. "A big problem for her, though, with the pregnancy was all of the drugs she was taking... that was a problem."

During this time, Marilyn was taking-among other prescriptions, such as Nembutal-a barbiturate to calm her nerves as well as allow her to sleep. Her gynecologist, Leon Krohn, was against all drugs in her system, but he realized that there was no way she would be able to function without them. He warned her against drinking on this and other medications and hoped to monitor her closely-he was on the set every day-but, truly, she was not manageable. When it came to pill-taking, Marilyn Monroe would always find a way if she felt the need.

After the movie was completed on November 6, Billy Wilder-who was not speaking to Marilyn by that time-went on record as having made a few unkind statements about her. For instance, when one New York reporter asked if he would ever make another movie with her, his response was, "I have discussed this project with my doctor and my psychiatrist and they tell me I'm too old and too rich to go through this again." To another reporter he said, "She's very good, obviously. But is she worth it? I don't know."

Marilyn was stung by his remarks. In her view, yes, she had presented some problems-what else was new?-but in the end she did turn in a good performance. She felt that Billy Wilder could have shown some grat.i.tude by having a little more tact in discussing her with the media. One afternoon, after deliberating over it for a while, she had a few drinks and then picked up the telephone to talk to Wilder, calling from New York to Los Angeles. His wife, Audrey, answered the phone. Marilyn asked if she could speak to Billy. She was told that he wasn't at home. "That's fine," Marilyn said. "I wonder, Audrey, if you could give him a message for me." Audrey said, "Of course." Marilyn continued, "Would you please tell him that Marilyn called... and that she would like it very much if he would... go and f.u.c.k himself." There was silence on the other end of the phone. "Oh, and Audrey," Marilyn concluded sweetly, "my warmest personal regards to you."

A Sign from G.o.d?

On December 16, 1958, Marilyn suffered a miscarriage. She would say that she felt more alone than ever before. She also felt a tremendous sense of guilt about the drugs she had been taking during the pregnancy and was afraid that she was responsible for the baby's death. "Could I have killed it?" she asked one friend. "I felt she was slipping away," her half sister, Berniece, would say of this time. Indeed, on December 24, Marilyn received a letter from her mother, Gladys, whom she had not seen in some time. "Have I pushed you away, dear daughter?" she wrote, probably knowing the answer. "I would love a visit from you." Then, in a heartrending understatement, she concluded, "The holidays are so sad. So very sad." Later in the letter, she added, "I have tried to reach you so often but it is very difficult. Please do me the favor of a telephone call or a return letter. May G.o.d bless you." She signed it, "Mrs. Gladys Eley."

As it happened, Marilyn wouldn't work in 1959. She was too sad and never really able to recover emotionally from the miscarriage. In April, she received a note from Berniece, addressed to "Mrs. Marilyn Miller." She wanted to visit. "Please phone or write me as to when you will be home, and the best time to come. Give my regards to Arthur." Marilyn didn't respond. Now was not a good time for a visit.

In June, she had to undergo a series of operations to determine if it were possible for her to have children. It was decided that, no, it could never happen for her. Melissa Steinberg, the daughter of Dr. Oscar Steinberg, who performed one of the surgeries, recalled, "I'm afraid it didn't work out at all. He had to tell her, which was terrible for him, that she could not have children. The way I heard it, he walked into her room to give her the bad news and she looked at him and said, 'I already know. I already know.' He then said he would name his firstborn daughter after her, which he did. She was very, very sad. I know he was worried about her. She took it very badly."

She didn't give up hope, though. Later that year, she would go to see singer Diahann Carroll at the Mocambo in Los Angeles and, recalled the singer, "I was pregnant with my daughter, Suzanne. Marilyn, so sad and so beautiful, came backstage to say h.e.l.lo. 'May I touch your tummy?' she asked me. I was delighted, of course. I took her hand and put it on my stomach and said, 'You pat right here, sweetheart, and say a prayer and a wish, and I'll hope with all my heart that your dream comes true.' She looked at me with tears in her eyes and said, 'Oh, I do, too. I do, too.' "

There seemed to be no end to her melancholy at this time in her life as one terrible moment seemed inevitably to give way to another. Though she signed on to begin filming a new movie in 1960, a musical comedy called Let's Make Love Let's Make Love, Marilyn was feeling anything but lighthearted. Her marriage would most certainly not last another year, and she knew it. She refused Berniece's telephone calls that holiday season-the first time that had ever happened. Throughout all of the vicissitudes of her life, she had never felt so low. Indeed, as Marilyn told one close friend, "As hard as I tried, the amount of time and energy I spent on this thing... I think now that it must be a sign. G.o.d must not want me to have children. Of course. Why should he allow me to have children? I can barely handle my own life."

One evening after Marilyn got home from the hospital, she and that friend went through Marilyn's closet, looking for something she might be able to wear to dinner. "I don't like to wear fancy clothes," she told her friend. "They take away from me, from who I am. I don't want people to be distracted when I walk into the room. So let's find something very simple." As she was talking and thumbing through a row of blouses, she came across a maternity top. She stopped for a moment. Then she took it off the hanger and handed it to her friend. "Please get rid of this for me," she said. Then, a few moments later, she came across another. "Oh, no." Finally, with tears streaming down her face, she decided to just take the time to get rid of all of the maternity clothes in the closet. "This isn't even what I set out to do," she said, very upset. "I just wanted to wear something pretty for dinner." After cleaning out the closet, she and her friend put all of the maternity outfits in a large box. The next day, Marilyn had her secretary send them all to her half sister. "Maybe Mona [Berniece's daughter] will have better luck than me," she concluded sadly.

PART SEVEN.

Slow Death

Giving Voice to the Voices.

The second week of January 1960 found Mr. and Mrs. Arthur Miller in Los Angeles, ensconced in bungalow number 21 of the plush Beverly Hills Hotel, next door to the French actor Yves Montand and his wife, actress Simone Signoret. Montand had been cast to star opposite Marilyn in Let's Make Love Let's Make Love, replacing Gregory Peck, who had decided-wisely, as it would turn out-that making this film was a very bad idea. It was a new year and Marilyn seemed determined not only to make the movie an enjoyable experience, but also to somehow save her marriage in the process. Diane Stevens, an a.s.sistant to John Springer, who worked for Marilyn as a publicist at this time (through the Arthur Jacobs agency), recalled, "I remember thinking, no, she is not in shape to do a movie. Unlike Elizabeth Taylor-whom John also worked for and with whom I had a great deal of contact-Marilyn was not able to bounce back after personal tragedy. Rather, she seemed to lose herself in the personal chaos. It was as if she had no coping skills or, at the very least, it was as if she had exhausted her supply. I thought she should have been in a hospital by this time, not on a soundstage."

In fact, Marilyn was primed to make this film a big success. How could it fail with the legendary "woman's" director George Cukor at the helm, a script by the Oscar-honored writer Norman Krasna, songs by the triple-Oscar-winning tunesmiths Jimmy Van Heusen and Sammy Cahn, and with Gregory Peck as her leading man? But Peck left the project early on because he felt the script was terrible. Other big male stars who turned down the role were Cary Grant, Charlton Heston, Rock Hudson, Yul Brynner, and James Stewart. French actor/singer Yves Montand had no such misgivings, though. He had recently made a big success in a French-language film version of Arthur Miller's play The Crucible. The Crucible. Married to Simone Signoret, an Academy Award Best Actress winner in 1960, he signed on to join Marilyn as her leading man in Married to Simone Signoret, an Academy Award Best Actress winner in 1960, he signed on to join Marilyn as her leading man in Let's Make Love. Let's Make Love.

A strange thing occurred during the early part of rehearsals for the film, something that greatly impacted Marilyn's marriage to Arthur. A Writers Guild strike had broken out, causing a problem for the film, the script of which was already such a mess Marilyn barely wanted to appear in it. There was some hope from her that the strike might cause the cancellation of the film as no union writer would be available to work on it. The film's producer, Jerry Wald, asked Arthur Miller if he would mind doing some rewrites on the script. Miller agreed. In effect, he not only consented to rewriting the movie-an endeavor that, to most observers, seemed far below his station as a Pulitzer Prize winner-but also to break ranks with the guild. Marilyn was surprised. "She had always thought of Arthur as someone who championed the rights of the underdog," said Rupert Allan, who was in Los Angeles visiting the Millers at the time. "For him to snub his nose at the strike first confused her and then made her lose respect for him. She had thought of him as a principled person, an Abraham Lincoln. And he suddenly turned on her. He became much hated, too, on the set. He would lord his wisdom and knowledge over everyone involved in the movie, to the point where people didn't want to be around him. Suddenly Marilyn was ashamed of him. My, how the tables had turned."

Actually, there was somewhat more to Marilyn being upset with Arthur than met the eye. She wasn't upset with him just because he had betrayed his own ideals, though that was part of it. She also suspected from the start that he had taken the writing job just to put her in her proverbial "place." After all, she signed on to do the movie at least partly because no one in the household was making any money. Arthur Miller may have been at least a little embarra.s.sed by this situation. Then, suddenly an opportunity presented itself to him to not only bring in a paycheck but perhaps also to be the person responsible for the words his wife had no choice but to recite on camera. It may have seemed as if he were getting back at her. According to people who knew him best, that was his intention. Or, as one person put it, "It was an in-your-face 'screw you' to her." It's no wonder she was beginning to resent him as much as he seemed to resent her.

Of course, there were the usual problems with Marilyn during production of Let's Make Love Let's Make Love, having to do with her tardiness and pill-taking. Often, she seemed stabilized and well-balanced-her medication probably working-but other times she looked dazed and loopy. Tony Randall, also in the film, recalled, "You have to understand, we would all be in makeup and ready to roll in the morning and here she would come strolling in sometime in the early evening. It got to be tiring after a while. There were days when she seemed barely able to function. Still, she somehow managed to get through it, just as always, I suppose." It should be noted that Marilyn was acutely aware of her constant disruptions on the set. After the film was over, for instance, she sent ch.o.r.eographer Jack Cole $1,500 with a note telling him she realized she had been "awful." She suggested he take the money and use it for a vacation, "and act like it all never happened." A couple of days later, she sent him another $500 and the suggestion that he "stay three more days."

During production of this movie, Marilyn and Yves Montand at first formed a close bond of friendship. As it happened, he was insecure about his role in Let's Make Love Let's Make Love and about his grasp of the English language. (Actually all of his dialogue ended up having to be meticulously rerecorded.) In this kind of insecurity, he shared Marilyn's own apprehensions. She was never sure she was very good as an actress, and to have a costar who had his own self-doubts was a provocative development in her life. She liked him very much and wanted him to feel the same way about her. However, Marilyn being Marilyn, she couldn't help but be late to the set, which was a bit of a problem for Montand. One day when she didn't show up for work, he left a terse note under the door of her bungalow: and about his grasp of the English language. (Actually all of his dialogue ended up having to be meticulously rerecorded.) In this kind of insecurity, he shared Marilyn's own apprehensions. She was never sure she was very good as an actress, and to have a costar who had his own self-doubts was a provocative development in her life. She liked him very much and wanted him to feel the same way about her. However, Marilyn being Marilyn, she couldn't help but be late to the set, which was a bit of a problem for Montand. One day when she didn't show up for work, he left a terse note under the door of her bungalow: Don't leave me to work for hours on end on a scene you've already decided not to do the next day. I'm not the enemy. I'm your pal. And capricious little girls have never amused me. Don't leave me to work for hours on end on a scene you've already decided not to do the next day. I'm not the enemy. I'm your pal. And capricious little girls have never amused me.

She was horrified when she received his little missive. In fact, she felt so terrible, she overreacted and couldn't leave her bungalow until Mr. and Mrs. Montand went to comfort her and tell her that it was all right, they would all survive. The shoot went on. Then... it it happened in mid-April 1960. Montand was concerned about Marilyn because she was too exhausted to attend a rehearsal. Arthur Miller was in Nevada with John Huston scouting possible locations for happened in mid-April 1960. Montand was concerned about Marilyn because she was too exhausted to attend a rehearsal. Arthur Miller was in Nevada with John Huston scouting possible locations for The Misfits The Misfits. Montand's wife, Simone, was in Europe working on a film. Paula Strasberg suggested that Yves go to Marilyn's bungalow to say h.e.l.lo and make her feel better about her absence. He did. So, there he was, asking her how she felt and hearing her tell him she would be fine when-one thing led to another. According to what he later wrote in his memoir, he couldn't help himself and leaned over and kissed her, and then... they made love.

The affair lasted for just two months, from April until June, when the film wrapped. When it ended, the Montands tried to put the pieces of their marriage back together. It was difficult, though, because anytime someone tumbled into bed with Marilyn Monroe it ended up front-page news. The Montands had their hands full not only with their broken marriage but with an avalanche of publicity about it. Yves Montand and Simone Signoret proceeded to make statements that surprised the American public. They suggested it was perfectly fine for Yves to have had an affair with "someone like Marilyn Monroe" because that is how the machinery of marriage works. It was just that Marilyn mucked up the works by taking it all too seriously.

From Yves: "[Marilyn] is a simple girl without any guile. Perhaps I was too tender and thought she was as sophisticated as some of the other ladies I have known. Had Marilyn been sophisticated, none of this ever would have happened... she is known throughout the world, but she is still a child. Perhaps she had a school girl crush. If she did, I'm sorry. But nothing will break up my marriage."

From Signoret: "Let us say Marilyn felt Yves' charm. Who doesn't? But everything that might be natural among us is twisted and deformed right from the start by publicity and talk. The real problem is that when a woman feels the physical attraction of a man who is not her husband, she must also feel she is in love to justify it. It is no longer casual even in pa.s.sing. A man, on the other hand, doesn't feel he has to confuse an affair with eternal love and make it a crisis in his marriage."

When reporter Alan Levy read Mrs. Montand's comment to Marilyn, she said softly, "I think this is all some part of her problem, not mine."

"It was all very hurtful," said Rupert Allan. "It was despicable of Yves Montand to say what he did. And I'm not sure Yves came out looking much better. Of course, Marilyn was wracked with guilt and embarra.s.sment. I remember her saying, 'I shouldn't have done it because he's married.' I think she felt shame about it. Of course, she was married, too, but that seemed a secondary concern. You can imagine her reaction to all of this if she wouldn't come out of her bungalow because he had chastised her for being late. This kind of public thrashing took a lot to get over. It was as if the Montands were saying, 'Well, of course of course he had s.e.x with her. She's Marilyn Monroe after all. Then, silly girl, she thought it meant something. How stupid of her. Now, let's just all move on, shall we?' It was very reductive." he had s.e.x with her. She's Marilyn Monroe after all. Then, silly girl, she thought it meant something. How stupid of her. Now, let's just all move on, shall we?' It was very reductive."

Rupert Allan's observation that Marilyn felt guilt about the affair rings true in that, generally, she was conflicted about her feelings relating to marriage. On one hand, she had great respect for the notion of wedded bliss and constantly told her half sister, Berniece, how fortunate she was to be married to the same man for so many years. She even mentioned the Montands to Berniece as a couple she very much admired for their commitment to each other. On the other hand, she seemed to not have a problem with having affairs with married men. Simply put, she seemed to believe that if a man would have s.e.x with her then he must not be happily married-and therefore he was fair game.

The premise of Let's Make Love Let's Make Love has Marilyn portraying musical comedy actress Amanda Dell, appearing in an off-Broadway revue that satirizes celebrities, including the fictional Jean-Marc Clement (Montand), a French-born billionaire industrialist who is now headquartered in New York City. Clement attends a performance just as Amanda is going through Cole Porter's "My Heart Belongs to Daddy," a full-on production number with a half dozen chorus boys, staged by Jack Cole. He is instantly smitten by Amanda's beauty and sets in motion a plan to win her heart without revealing his ident.i.ty as the super-rich businessman being parodied in the revue. The balance of the film follows the development of Jean-Marc's pursuit of Amanda, complete with the two rehearsing the musical numbers, and also including acting out love scenes together. As expected, the s.e.xy continental wins the heart of the musical comedy star without ever revealing his true ident.i.ty. has Marilyn portraying musical comedy actress Amanda Dell, appearing in an off-Broadway revue that satirizes celebrities, including the fictional Jean-Marc Clement (Montand), a French-born billionaire industrialist who is now headquartered in New York City. Clement attends a performance just as Amanda is going through Cole Porter's "My Heart Belongs to Daddy," a full-on production number with a half dozen chorus boys, staged by Jack Cole. He is instantly smitten by Amanda's beauty and sets in motion a plan to win her heart without revealing his ident.i.ty as the super-rich businessman being parodied in the revue. The balance of the film follows the development of Jean-Marc's pursuit of Amanda, complete with the two rehearsing the musical numbers, and also including acting out love scenes together. As expected, the s.e.xy continental wins the heart of the musical comedy star without ever revealing his true ident.i.ty.

It's clear from Marilyn's work in this movie that she was trying to expand her horizons, yet it was difficult for her. She wrote these words in a notebook in her dressing room: What am I afraid of? Why am I so afraid? Do I think I can't act? I know I can act, but I am afraid. I am afraid and I should not be and I must not be. What am I afraid of? Why am I so afraid? Do I think I can't act? I know I can act, but I am afraid. I am afraid and I should not be and I must not be.

She actually had no reason to be afraid of this movie, this script. She was much better than the film deserved, actually, and that may have been the problem. The weak script forced her to fall back on her tried-and-true image of s.e.xy blonde bombsh.e.l.l in order to make the movie work. In other words, Arthur Miller did her no favor with this one. Still, it was well received. In fact, Daily Variety Daily Variety gave it a surprisingly rave review, which read, in part, "After the film is underway about 12 minutes, the screen goes suddenly dark... and a lone spotlight picks up Marilyn Monroe wearing black tights and a sloppy wool sweater. She announces with appropriate musical orchestration, that her name is Lolita and that she isn't allowed to play (pause) with boys (pause) because her heart belongs to daddy (words and music by Cole Porter). This not only launches the first of a series of elegantly designed [by Jack Cole] production numbers and marks one of the great star entrances ever made on the screen, but is typical of the entire film-which has taken something not too original (the Cinderella theme) and dressed it up like new." gave it a surprisingly rave review, which read, in part, "After the film is underway about 12 minutes, the screen goes suddenly dark... and a lone spotlight picks up Marilyn Monroe wearing black tights and a sloppy wool sweater. She announces with appropriate musical orchestration, that her name is Lolita and that she isn't allowed to play (pause) with boys (pause) because her heart belongs to daddy (words and music by Cole Porter). This not only launches the first of a series of elegantly designed [by Jack Cole] production numbers and marks one of the great star entrances ever made on the screen, but is typical of the entire film-which has taken something not too original (the Cinderella theme) and dressed it up like new."

Let's Make Love would be released September 8, 1960, and gross $3 million at the box office. It would also be nominated for an Oscar for the best scoring of a musical. would be released September 8, 1960, and gross $3 million at the box office. It would also be nominated for an Oscar for the best scoring of a musical.

In the summer of 1960, Marilyn stayed on in Los Angeles while Arthur was busy with preproduction of The Misfits. The Misfits. Yves and Simone were back in Europe. Feeling more confused than ever, Marilyn did what perhaps she should not have-she continued with her therapy. Her New York psychiatrist, Marianne Kris, had recommended that when Marilyn was in Los Angeles she begin seeing a colleague named Dr. Ralph Greenson, which Marilyn agreed to. Yves and Simone were back in Europe. Feeling more confused than ever, Marilyn did what perhaps she should not have-she continued with her therapy. Her New York psychiatrist, Marianne Kris, had recommended that when Marilyn was in Los Angeles she begin seeing a colleague named Dr. Ralph Greenson, which Marilyn agreed to.

Marilyn and Pat.

In the spring of 1960, while Marilyn was in Los Angeles, she met a woman who would not only go on to become a good and trusted friend but would actually alter the course of her life, even if inadvertently-Pat Kennedy Lawford. In some ways, Pat may be the consistently missing link in all accounts of Marilyn's relationship with the Kennedy family. While she is referred to in many biographies as having been Monroe's "best friend" during the 1960s, this might be overstating their relationship a bit-and little concrete information has ever been reported. In some ways, it was an unlikely alliance between the two women.

As we have seen, Marilyn had been the unwanted love child of a woman who had gone insane. She'd spent her childhood being pa.s.sed from foster home to foster home, never knowing what it felt like to belong, to be loved. Despite her fame, she never had much money; she always lived beyond her means. Privately, she longed to know the comfort and protection of a real family. In stark contrast, Patricia Kennedy Lawford-"Pat"-was the sixth of Joe and Rose Kennedy's nine children, a member of the closely bound and influential Kennedy family. Her privileged background allowed her to live an affluent lifestyle, educated in the finest convent schools and graduating from Rosemont College, a private women's liberal arts school in Pennsylvania. She traveled the world over and wanted for nothing, always under the protective and watchful eye of her wealthy family.

Pat, who was thirty-six when she and Marilyn became friends, was outgoing and friendly. She wouldn't have been considered beautiful, but she was arresting just the same. She had a resolute-looking face that was a bit longish, with deep blue eyes, a sharp nose, and, of course, that toothy Kennedy smile. She was athletic, again like her relatives, her tall, slender body moving with easy grace as she tossed the pigskin about with her brothers. Always eager to forge an ident.i.ty separate and apart from her famous family, she was a TV producer for a while before having her children. She had loved being in show business and wished it could have continued, but a Kennedy woman's first responsibility was always to family, not career. Still, Pat was a very independent person. In fact, she was known in the family as "the Hollywood Kennedy," the least politically motivated of the Kennedy sisters, the one who-as Jeanne Martin, Dean's widow, put it-"loved a good time, loved show business, was a lot of fun and well liked by the stars she had met through her husband: Judy Garland, Jackie Cooper, Lauren Bacall, Humphrey Bogart, Martha Raye, Jimmy Durante, and dozens of others. You could depend on Pat. She was an absolutely fabulous person. She could be a great friend. She was, to Marilyn." (Note: Pat was G.o.dmother to Jeanne and Dean's daughter, Gina Caroline.) When Peter Lawford first introduced Marilyn to Pat, two words came to mind: Grace G.o.ddard. "She reminds me of my Aunt Grace so much I can't even believe it," Marilyn said at the time. "She has the exact same personality. When she laughs, it's Grace's laugh." Any similarity Pat had with Grace may have been one of the reasons Marilyn felt so close to her so quickly. Definitely, Pat had Grace's energy. She was always busy, always moving-always on the go and excited about going there. She was also wisecracking and had a sarcastic sense of humor. For those to whom the memory of Pat Kennedy doesn't strike an image, think Jane Russell in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes Gentlemen Prefer Blondes. That That was Pat Kennedy. was Pat Kennedy.

Pat had met her husband, the British actor Peter Lawford, in 1949 in London. They married in 1954. By this time, Pat was thirty and had a personal fortune of $10 million. Peter, at thirty-one, was worth about $100,000 and was accused by some Kennedy loyalists of being a gold digger. Kennedy patriarch Joe certainly did not approve of him. "If there's anything I'd hate more for a son-in-law than an actor, it's a British British actor," he said. That Peter was Protestant didn't help matters. Christopher Lawford, Pat's son, recalls his mother saying that Joe Kennedy sent her on a trip around the world in order that she might forget Peter. "It didn't work," she told her son. I got to j.a.pan and turned right around." Joe Kennedy called J. Edgar Hoover and asked him to check out Peter's background. Imagine it. Your potential father-in-law has the pull to have you investigated by J. Edgar Hoover. "He found out that I wasn't h.o.m.os.e.xual and that I wasn't a Communist, so I guess I was okay in those respects," Peter would later say. "Still, Joe Kennedy wasn't a fan of mine. It took Pat a lot of courage to marry me when her old man disapproved so much. I think she was very brave to do it, actually." actor," he said. That Peter was Protestant didn't help matters. Christopher Lawford, Pat's son, recalls his mother saying that Joe Kennedy sent her on a trip around the world in order that she might forget Peter. "It didn't work," she told her son. I got to j.a.pan and turned right around." Joe Kennedy called J. Edgar Hoover and asked him to check out Peter's background. Imagine it. Your potential father-in-law has the pull to have you investigated by J. Edgar Hoover. "He found out that I wasn't h.o.m.os.e.xual and that I wasn't a Communist, so I guess I was okay in those respects," Peter would later say. "Still, Joe Kennedy wasn't a fan of mine. It took Pat a lot of courage to marry me when her old man disapproved so much. I think she was very brave to do it, actually."

Though Pat loved Peter, the marriage was troubled almost from the start, partly because of Peter's personal demons, his drinking habits, and, later, his obsession with trying to fit in with Frank Sinatra's notorious Rat Pack, but also because he never felt that he fit in the Kennedy fold, either. Whereas the husbands of Pat's sisters, Eunice and Jean, both became involved in the Kennedys' financial empire, Peter never did; he simply wasn't interested. It may sound absurd in retrospect, but the fact that he couldn't play football made things worse for him with the family. After all, he was unable to partic.i.p.ate in the family's greatest free-time ritual. "Never played in my life," he said in 1981, "and that was bad news to the Kennedys. I was an outcast from the start."

Immediately after they married, Peter began seeing other women-even during Pat's pregnancies. However, Pat was accustomed to the idea of the philandering husband; her father and brothers had long ago exposed her to the notion of the unfaithful spouse, and of course, her mother, Rose, had endured a roaming husband in Joe. Pat did, too, but she was angry about it, not collected. She didn't even try to fake it. Much like her sister-in-law, Jackie, she felt that the best she could do was to make sure her husband didn't think she was a complete idiot, and then go about the business of making a good life for herself. She took it a step further. She insisted that she and Peter have separate bedrooms. She decided early on that she'd just as soon not sleep next to someone she knew was having s.e.x with someone else. An oft-told "inside story" among Marilyn's and Pat's friends was that shortly after they met, Marilyn was at the house having lunch when Peter walked into the room. Pat took a sandwich from a platter in the middle of the table and handed it to Peter. "Ham and cheese," she said. Then, in the next breath and very nonchalantly, "And that little brunette you were [expletive deleted] last night? I want her out of the picture. She called the house. And that's where I draw the line. You got it?" She met Peter's stunned expression with a stern one of her own. He just nodded and left the room, embarra.s.sed. Then Pat went back to her conversation with Marilyn as if the scene had never happened. Later, Marilyn said, "She's probably the strongest, most confident woman I have ever met. I wish I had her b.a.l.l.s."

In the spring of 1960, these two very different women-Marilyn and Pat-became close friends. It was an ironic meeting in the sense that Marilyn had dated Peter for a short time back in 1950. Peter was crazy about her, Marilyn not so much him. In some ways, the friendship between Marilyn and Pat made sense, though. Pat was drawn to the glamour and glitz that was all Marilyn's, whereas Marilyn had always longed for the security and financial stability enjoyed by Pat. In other ways, the friendship seemed surprising. For instance, Pat was puritanical. While Pat was rather plain and ordinary in appearance, Marilyn was... well, Marilyn. Marilyn. While it was said that Pat made the sign of the cross whenever she had to have s.e.x with Peter, Marilyn was... well, While it was said that Pat made the sign of the cross whenever she had to have s.e.x with Peter, Marilyn was... well, Marilyn Marilyn.

"I don't know when it happened exactly, but I know that Pat started to become very, I don't know what the word is for it, really-infatuated, I guess, with the idea of knowing Marilyn Monroe," says Pat Brennan, who met Pat in 1954 and remained friends with her through the 1960s and 1970s. "I think it's safe to say that she was starstruck by her. Suddenly, everything was 'I just spoke to Marilyn and she said that...' It was as if she had a best friend overnight. I found it strange.

"I remember calling Pat once in the spring of 1960 and she said, 'I'd like for you to speak to someone here.' The next thing I knew, I was hearing this breathy voice on the other end of the phone. Marilyn. 'Pat says you are her dear friend,' she told me. 'Well, I am, too. Maybe we'll meet one day.' I said, 'Fine, let's do.' Finally Pat came back on the line. 'So what do you think of that that?' Pat said. She was definitely impressed by Marilyn and wanted to impress others that she knew her."

Very quickly, the two women became close. Pat's son Christopher recalled of his mom and Marilyn, "[Marilyn] had a quiet voice and she would smile at me and head out to walk on the sand with my mom. My mother told me Marilyn was like her 'little sister.' It surprised her that Marilyn was so open with her. My mom didn't come from an environment where emotions and feelings were openly shared. Marilyn Monroe trusted my mother's love for her."

As they got to know each other, they began to share details of each other's life while commiserating about their joys and sadnesses. For instance, Pat had three children-Christopher, Sydney, and Victoria. In a year, she would have a fourth, Robin. Marilyn, of course, desperately longed for children. Sometimes the stories Pat told Marilyn about her family would leave her with her mouth wide open, such as this one: "After Peter and I had Christopher, Peter was very unhappy because the baby cried all the time and the house smelled like s.h.i.t," Pat told Marilyn in front of other friends.

"Oh, well, I guess that's what happens when you have a baby," Marilyn said. "So what did you do?"

"Well, we decided it would be best if Christopher had his own apartment across the street."

"What? How old was he?" How old was he?"

"Well, he was about two months old, actually. So, anyway, we rented an apartment for him and the nanny and he slept over there. It was just a lot easier on everyone."

Indeed, Pat Kennedy Lawford was of a rare breed. Her story about Christopher aside, she was the best mother she knew how to be to her children. Of course, the Lawfords had a live-in nanny, but when the brood was a little older Pat would give the nanny one week off a month so that she could be a full-time mom to them. She would turn the clocks ahead an hour so that the kids would go to sleep a little earlier-but after spending the day running after four small children she probably figured she deserved the break.

Then there was this story: "You will never guess what my dad gave me when I turned twenty-five."

"A new outfit?" Marilyn asked.

"No, guess again."

"A car?

"Nope. Guess again."

"What? What?

"One million dollars," Pat said with an impish grin.

Again, Marilyn couldn't believe her ears. "But why?" she asked.

Pat laughed. "Oh, who knows? I guess because he loved me. It was quite generous, wasn't it?" * *

Marilyn had to agree.

The friendship with Pat had an interesting dynamic in that Pat wanted to share it with others while Marilyn chose to keep it to herself. "She liked Pat, I know that much, but other than that, I don't know a lot," said Ralph Roberts. "She was not effusive when it came to Pat. I remember thinking that it was mostly a telephonic relationship. I think Marilyn began to call her when she had problems-as she did all of us. And I think Pat enjoyed that. I think she wanted to help Marilyn, though I'm not sure why except that, well... everyone wanted to help Marilyn. She had that kind of vulnerability that made you want to take care of her, and I think Pat Kennedy Lawford was struck by it, too."

In July 1960, Pat invited Marilyn to be present when her brother, John F. Kennedy, accepted the Democratic Party nomination for president of the United States. Marilyn wasn't sure she could make it. She said she had prior commitments with The Misfits The Misfits. However, Pat told her that if she missed it she would be "missing something very historical." So Marilyn agreed that she would be there. She would be out of town, she said, but she would fly in for the convention and fly right back out that night.

On the night of July 15, 1960, Marilyn and many other celebrities joined a packed house at the Memorial Coliseum in Los Angeles and watched in rapt attention as John Kennedy spoke of his New Frontier. "The new frontier of which I speak is not a set of promises," he intoned, "it is a set of challenges, it sums up not what I intend to offer of the American people but what I intend to ask them." His aide Peter Summers, who was responsible for coordinating much of the television coverage of Kennedy's campaign, recalled, "It was a magical moment like no other I can remember. When he came to the podium, the applause was thunderous but then, as he spoke, you could hear a pin drop. Chills were going up and down your spine. Yes, Marilyn was in the audience, along with many other stars. That night, I think a strong friendship began to develop between her and Jack Kennedy. She was free, but Jack Kennedy wasn't."

Marilyn did see Kennedy backstage after his speech. It was Pat who introduced them. Actually Marilyn and JFK had met once before, in the 1950s at a dinner party, but hadn't had a chance to talk or get to know one another. They wouldn't on this night, either. There was too much going on-the scene was chaotic and Marilyn had to fly out of Los Angeles that night anyway. However, something strange did happen as a result of that evening. It was clear to some observers that the two were flirtatious toward one another, and there was concern about it. Because Kennedy was known for his voracious s.e.xual appet.i.te, red flags went up in his campaign quarters anytime he flirted with a movie star. "Some people on staff said products are sold by star endors.e.m.e.nt," Peter Summers recalled, "and that maybe a closeness [between JFK and Monroe] of this nature will be a benefit to him getting elected. The other side was that you're not going to elect someone president who is perhaps ignoring his wife or cheating on his family. So, yes there was concern. Marilyn was spoken to very frankly about it. The president was spoken to very frankly about it. There was great concern at the time. It could have destroyed him."

In fact, Marilyn was spoken to-by Pat. One Kennedy relative recalled, "What happened was that someone from the Kennedy campaign told Peter Lawford that JFK had been flirting with Marilyn. They wanted to nip it in the bud before something happened. Would he talk to Marilyn about it? Peter thought it was unfair to approach Marilyn Monroe with a warning since nothing had even occurred. Still, he decided to ask Pat to at least mention to her that there was concern about it. So, from my understanding of it, Pat called Marilyn and said, 'Look, I know this is ridiculous, but everyone is going nuts because they think my brother was flirting with you the other night. Do you think he was?' Marilyn said, 'Well, of course he was. And I was flirting back. But it meant nothing. It was just flirting.' Pat said, 'Fine. I just wanted you to know that they were worried about it.' Marilyn asked, 'About what?' And Pat said, 'Just that something might happen between you and my brother, that's all. It's very silly.' Marilyn agreed. 'Oh Pat, that is silly,' she said. 'It's just ridiculous.' "

The Misfits.

By the end of July 1960, Marilyn Monroe was in Reno, Nevada, for location shooting on The Misfits The Misfits, which, as it happened, was the last movie she would complete. Entire books have been written about the various miseries surrounding the production of this film. Suffice it to say, not one thing seemed to be in balance, not the least of which was Marilyn's mental and physical condition, which continued to deteriorate by the day.

"The Misfits should never have happened," Marilyn's makeup artist, Allan "Whitey" Snyder, once said to the "All About Marilyn" fan club. "She wasn't feeling well when they insisted on starting shooting, and there were so many script changes in her part that Arthur made so often, she became less and less happy with her role and character." In another interview, he added, "The drugs had pretty much taken over by this time. She was having a terrible time. Everything was going wrong. It was like a s...o...b..ll going down a mountain, the problems just acc.u.mulating. should never have happened," Marilyn's makeup artist, Allan "Whitey" Snyder, once said to the "All About Marilyn" fan club. "She wasn't feeling well when they insisted on starting shooting, and there were so many script changes in her part that Arthur made so often, she became less and less happy with her role and character." In another interview, he added, "The drugs had pretty much taken over by this time. She was having a terrible time. Everything was going wrong. It was like a s...o...b..ll going down a mountain, the problems just acc.u.mulating.

"Marilyn and Arthur so loathed each other, I'm not sure how either of them got through this movie. Everyone felt the pressure of it all. Marilyn was more paranoid than ever before. She believed Arthur was having an affair with someone on the set, a script supervisor I believe. He wasn't. After what had happened with Yves Montand, though, it was surprising that she was so angry. Everything was out of whack. He had written a movie that seemed very personal, that drew from elements of the real Marilyn's personality and her relationship with him, so that made it even more difficult for her. Honest to G.o.d, there were lines in that movie that were right out of her experience with Arthur Miller. Why he did that, I don't know. To be mean, maybe? I don't know. Then he would change the lines just before she had to film them. He kept her off balance the entire time. To me, it felt like a punishment. I have never said that before, but that's how I feel. I have bad memories of this time. It was as if Marilyn was close to the edge, and her husband was the one pushing her over it."

Can Marilyn Monroe be considered Arthur Miller's muse? Or was she more like a wounded, unwitting victim of the playwright's exploitation? An examination of two of Miller's literary creations-a play and a movie script-would seem to point to his former wife as having been a bit of both. In Miller's 1964 play After the Fall After the Fall, which opened at New York's ANTA Washington Square Theatre in January 1964, only eighteen months after Marilyn's death on August 7, 1962, the protagonist is a middle-aged lawyer ruminating upon his relationships with the three women in his life and how the marriages to two of them ended, the first in divorce, the second in the suicide of his wife, an actress, and the third a work in progress. Though Miller always denied the genesis of the play, if he thought of it at all, he must have acknowledged to his private self the parallels with events in his own life, not only concerning his women but also his personal experiences in the mid-1950s with HUAC's spurious search for alleged Communists in the government, which he used as the inspiration for The Crucible. The Crucible.

Miller's screenplay of The Misfits The Misfits, adapted from his Esquire Esquire magazine short story, was the only thing he wrote during his four-year marriage to Marilyn. He points out in his autobiography, magazine short story, was the only thing he wrote during his four-year marriage to Marilyn. He points out in his autobiography, Time-bends Time-bends, that he wrote the screenplay as a gift to her and as she read an early draft she would "laugh delightfully at some of the cowboys' lines but seemed to withhold full commitment to playing Roslyn." Perhaps Marilyn should have listened to her instincts, for she grew to hate the script and her character, which she regarded a caricature of her. Making Roslyn a recently divorced dancer and a needy clinging vine, whose very existence was reliant upon the approval of the men in her life, Miller seemed determined to show the character in all its flaws, and by extension Marilyn, who is limning the character. Marilyn was as smart as she was sensitive, and none of this was lost on her. Despite her misgivings, the rea.s.surances of director John Huston and others whose opinions she valued gave her the will to continue. When Arthur sent the first draft of the script to Huston in Ireland, he agreed to direct it. With her Asphalt Jungle Asphalt Jungle director at the helm, and a dream cast a.s.sembled by MCA uber-agent Lew Wa.s.serman-Clark Gable, Montgomery Clift, Eli Wallach, Thelma Ritter-Marilyn came around and agreed to be in the film. director at the helm, and a dream cast a.s.sembled by MCA uber-agent Lew Wa.s.serman-Clark Gable, Montgomery Clift, Eli Wallach, Thelma Ritter-Marilyn came around and agreed to be in the film.

In the story, Roslyn Taber (Monroe) has come to Reno to get a divorce and taken a room with Isabelle Steers (Ritter), who accompanies her to divorce court as a witness. Celebrating Roslyn's freedom at a bar, they meet Guido (Wallach) and Gay (Gable), a late-fiftyish, still roguishly handsome onetime cowboy. Their chemistry established, Roslyn and Gay move in together in a house Guido is building. Like Gay, he too falls for Roslyn. Guido hatches a plan to round up wild mustangs, called misfits because they are too small to ride, on the Nevada salt flats and sell them. Joining them in the enterprise is Perce (Clift), a beaten-up, down-on-his-luck rodeo rider. The three, accompanied by Roslyn, head out to the salt flats to corral the mustangs. It is only after they arrive at the site that Roslyn learns of the mustangs' fate: They are to be sold to a dog food manufacturer. Horrified at the thought-just as Marilyn, always a pet lover, would be-Rosalyn begs Gay to spare the six horses. At first he refuses, but in the end, so struck is he by her pa.s.sion to save the mustangs, Gay cuts the ropes and frees them. This act of compa.s.sion also allows Gay and Roslyn to come to a better understanding of each other as they head off to a future together.

Marilyn threw herself into the role, determined to make the film work. Despite the demands of the part, both physically and emotionally, she was able to rise to the occasion again and again. She was given a look that was quite different from the one her fans were used to. Famous Hollywood hairstylist Sydney Guilaroff styled a wig that was smoother, sleeker, and longer than what she usually wore. Gone were the bedhead curls that had become her trademark. Jean Louis-who would go on to create the skintight, sparkly "Happy birthday, Mr. President" gown-came up with several outfits that revealed Marilyn's curves to wonderful advantage. The halter-top white cotton dress splattered with large, quarter-size polka dots was worn without any discernible foundation garment and worked so well that Marilyn selected it for personal appearances when she promoted the film. She was photographed in color for an Esquire Esquire pictorial and the polka dots turned out to be red, not black as they appeared in the film. Her longtime personal makeup man, Allan Snyder, was on location to apply the powder, lipstick, mascara, and blush sparingly in keeping with the film's rustic, open-air setting. It is almost unbelievable that Marilyn's beauty remained unmarred by the angst, the stress, the drugs and alcohol, and the rough-and-tumble action of the film. pictorial and the polka dots turned out to be red, not black as they appeared in the film. Her longtime personal makeup man, Allan Snyder, was on location to apply the powder, lipstick, mascara, and blush sparingly in keeping with the film's rustic, open-air setting. It is almost unbelievable that Marilyn's beauty remained unmarred by the angst, the stress, the drugs and alcohol, and the rough-and-tumble action of the film.

The long, four-month shoot in the harsh Nevada landscape was difficult, made more so by Marilyn's erratic behavior and her insecurities about the project. There was also her abuse of booze and drugs and her unhappiness about her marriage to Miller, which was coming to an end. "I don't even think he wanted me in it," she said at the time of her husband and his movie. "I guess it's all over between us. We have to stay with each other because it would be bad for the film if we split up now. Arthur's been complaining to [John] Huston about me, and that's why Huston treats me like an idiot with his 'dear this' and 'dear that.' Why doesn't he treat me like a normal actress?"

In sharp contrast to Marilyn's on-set conduct with her repeated delays in arriving on the set and the now legendary demands for retakes was the professionalism of Montgomery Clift, who memorized the entire script before arriving on location in Nevada. As Miller notes in his autobiography, "Indeed, [Clift] never missed an hour's work... and was always on time despite the long delays in finishing the picture." Gable also exhibited extreme empathy for Marilyn, but was clearly frustrated at the situation. He took out his frustration by insisting on doing his own dangerous stunt work.

By this time, of course, Natasha Lytess was long gone and now replaced by Marilyn's other guru, Paula Strasberg. Marilyn wouldn't so much as make a move on camera without Paula's consent. However, there was a big difference in their relationship as compared to that with Natasha. Paula had a husband and children. She had other responsibilities. Natasha only had Marilyn. Whereas Natasha was devoted to keeping Marilyn's moods from swinging out of control and made sure she was on the right medication in the right doses, Paula just coached her acting. Indeed, without Natasha, Marilyn would fall into great despair during the filming of The Misfits The Misfits.

By the end of August, Marilyn could take no more. The stress had gotten to her to the point that she began to complain of hearing "voices" again. The drugs were not working, so the dosages were increased. Ralph Greenson prescribed 300 milligrams of the barbiturate Nembutal. The maximum dose was supposed to be 100 milligrams. "Doctors had gone along with her demands for new and stronger sleeping pills," Arthur Miller later remembered, "even though they knew perfectly well how dangerous this was. There were always new doctors willing to help her into oblivion."

"He was giving Marilyn three times the dosage she should have been given," said Rupert Allan (who was on the set every day) of Ralph Greenson. "I found it shocking, just shocking, that any doctor would prescribe that much Nembutal for insomnia. It made her absolutely paranoid in her waking hours. She told me she always felt as if she was being followed. Everything was closing in on her." Allan recalled Marilyn splitting open Seconal capsules and letting the drug dissolve in her mouth during breaks in filming. "I would say that by this time she was, I'm sorry to say it, a drug addict. That would not be overstating it." Her makeup artist, Allan Snyder, recalled applying her makeup in the morning while she was still flat on her back in bed. "There was no other way," he said. "It would take her so long to get up in the morning, we had to start with the makeup before she was out of bed."

The result of such drug abuse, on top of the desert heat and all of this stress, was that Marilyn was flown to Los Angeles, where she was admitted to Westside Hospital. The press was told that she was suffering from "extreme exhaustion." That wasn't the case, though.

"She had a nervous breakdown," said Evelyn Moriarty, her stand-in on this film. "There was a lot of concern about her health and well-being. She was in bad shape. Some of us didn't think she would be able to find her way back from it. There was also talk that the whole movie would have to be shut down. All of her friends went to Los Angeles to be with her-Paula [Strasberg], May [Reis, her secretary], 'Whitey' [Snyder, her makeup man]. I really thought the movie was over for all of us, and I felt terrible for her. I was very worried. If you knew Marilyn as I did, this kind of thing really made you feel just dreadful. You wanted her to pull out of it, you really did.... You just wanted her to be okay. She was trying so very hard, but the odds were always against her. Every time she took a step forward, something happened to knock her back again.

"Then there were a lot of stories on the set that John Huston had run the budget into the ground with his gambling-he was a terrible gambler!-that he needed time to raise more money, and that the movie was going to be shut down anyway, and that he had convinced doctors to admit Marilyn into the hospital in order to use her as a scapegoat. I now think it was a little of both-that she needed to be hospitalized and that Huston took advantage of her illness so that he could blame the delay in filming on her. I thought that was awful."

Pat Brennan recalls a visit that Pat Kennedy Lawford paid to Marilyn. "Pat wanted to visit Marilyn but she didn't want to cause a spectacle by doing it," Brennan recalled, "so she arranged with the hospital to sneak in after visiting hours and wore a silly black wig and gla.s.ses in order to not be recognized.

"She said that when she showed up in Marilyn's room, she was sound asleep. She remembered Marilyn as being white as a sheet, so much so that for a moment she actually thought she was dead. 'I had never seen a woman look like that who was not in a casket,' she told me. She stood at the foot of Marilyn's bed and just stared at her for ten minutes wondering how in the world it had come to this for her. 'I knew I was coming in at the end of a long story and was so sorry I had not been around to help her,' she told me. She said that Marilyn stirred and finally awakened. 'Then she looked at me,' Pat remembered, 'and said, somewhat angrily, "Who the h.e.l.l are you?" ' She took off the disguise, and Marilyn burst out laughing. Suddenly, she was Marilyn Monroe again. A glow just came over her, Pat said. Her color returned, her personality returned. Marilyn said, 'Well, this is the first time you have ever seen me in the hospital, Pat. How do I look?' Pat said, 'Marilyn, I swear to G.o.d, you look like s.h.i.t.' And the two had a good laugh. 'So, can we get a couple of martinis in here, or what?' Pat asked."

"I guess about a week later, she was back on the set," Evelyn Moriarty recalled, "and you just had to wonder how she ever did it."

"I had to use my wits," Marilyn would later explain, "or else I'd have been sunk-and nothing's going to sink me. Everyone was always pulling at me, tugging at me, as if they wanted a piece of me. It was always, 'Do this, do that,' and not just on the job but off, too. G.o.d, I've tried to stay intact, whole."

Indeed, as Ralph Roberts put it, "Under all that frailty was still a will of steel."

Just before filming for the movie moved back to Los Angeles for the final shooting, Marilyn and her coterie of friends, including Paula Strasberg, Ralph Roberts (now also her ma.s.seur), and May Reis, went to San Francisco to attend an Ella Fitzgerald concert. While she was there, Marilyn decided to pay a visit to the DiMaggio family. She had always gotten along well with them, even if not so much with Joe toward the end of their marriage. Though Joe was out of town, she had a chance to visit with his brother and sister and, it would seem, rekindled her friendship with them. Maybe it had something to do with the DiMaggios, or maybe not, but as soon as she got back to Los Angeles the fights started again with Arthur Miller. The two argued so loudly at the Beverly Hills Hotel, Marilyn's friends felt sure that the marriage was over-and this time it really was. Miller soon moved out of the hotel, leaving Marilyn alone there. Now it was just a matter of formal divorce papers being drawn up for the battling couple.

On October 21, Marilyn's director of Niagara Niagara, Henry Hathaway, saw Marilyn on the Paramount soundstage. She was crying. "All my life, I've played Marilyn Monroe, Marilyn Monroe, Marilyn Monroe," she told him. "I've tried to do a little better and when I do, I find myself doing an imitation of myself. I so want to do something different. That was one of the things that attracted me to Arthur when he said he was attracted to me. When I married him, one of the fantasies in my mind was that I could get away from Marilyn Monroe through him, and here I find myself back doing the same thing, and I just couldn't take it. I had to get out of there. I just couldn't face having to do another scene with Marilyn Monroe."

Marilyn's statements to Hathaway have a sad, tortured irony to them. Long ago, she had buried Norma Jeane Mortensen in favor of being reborn as Marilyn Monroe. She celebrated the day, eager to free herself from the shackles of her sad youth. Now, all of these years later, she wanted nothing more than to kill off Marilyn Monroe.

No Relief.

As if things were not bad enough for Marilyn Monroe as the year 1960 blessedly wound down, news of a death in the cast of The Misfits The Misfits plunged her back into the deep depression that had recently caused her to be hospitalized. She had always admired Clark Gable, all the way back to when she found a photo of Edward Mortenson and thought he looked like Gable. She regretted that she'd caused the distinguished actor so much grief by her behavior on the set of plunged her back into the deep depression that had recently caused her to be hospitalized. She had always admired Clark Gable, all the way back to when she found a photo of Edward Mortenson and thought he looked like Gable. She regretted that she'd caused the distinguished actor so much grief by her behavior on the set of The Misfits The Misfits and hoped he would forgive her and try to remember her fondly. She never had a chance to tell him how she felt about him, though. "I don't know how he would have reacted if he had known how important he had been to me all these years," she later said. and hoped he would forgive her and try to remember her fondly. She never had a chance to tell him how she felt about him, though. "I don't know how he would have reacted if he had known how important he had been to me all these years," she later said.

On November 5, Clark Gable suffered a ma.s.sive heart attack. He would die on the sixteenth at the age of just fifty-nine. Before his death, Gable had seen The Misfits The Misfits and had judged it one of his best movies. Still, rumor had it that he had been so annoyed at Marilyn's behavior on the set, it ultimately caused him the stress that precipitated his attack. Perhaps it was a theory that would have held more credence had he fallen ill during the production instead of after it. Moreover, Gable had a three-pack-a-day cigarette habit that couldn't have done much for his well-being. At any rate, the story circulated around the world that it was Marilyn Monroe who was responsible for his death. "I kept him waiting-kept him waiting for hours and hours on that picture," Marilyn told Sidney Skolsky. Then, as if parroting something that had obviously sprung from one of her five days a week with Dr. Ralph Greenson, she added, "Was I punishing my father? Getting even for all of the years he kept me waiting?" and had judged it one of his best movies. Still, rumor had it that he had been so annoyed at Marilyn's behavior on the set, it ultimately caused him the stress that precipitated his attack. Perhaps it was a theory that would have held more credence had he fallen ill during the production instead of after it. Moreover, Gable had a three-pack-a-day cigarette habit that couldn't have done much for his well-being. At any rate, the story circulated around the world that it was Marilyn Monroe who was responsible for his death. "I kept him waiting-kept him waiting for hours and hours on that picture," Marilyn told Sidney Skolsky. Then, as if parroting something that had obviously sprung from one of her five days a week with Dr. Ralph Greenson, she added, "Was I punishing my father? Getting even for all of the years he kept me waiting?"