In spring 1949, Marilyn’s finances were becoming a great concern once again, and she fell behind not only with her rent, but also with the payments on the car she relied on to get to auditions. Tom Kelley, the photographer who had helped when she crashed on Sunset Boulevard, had asked her to pose nude for him several months before, but she had turned him down. However, when she was threatened with the repossession of her car, she decided enough was enough, and called his number.
On 27 May 1949, Marilyn arrived at Kelley’s studio at 736 North Seward Avenue. Kelley was known as a perfect gentleman, but to add a touch of respectability to the proceedings, Marilyn requested that his partner Natalie Grasko be in attendance. And so it was that with ‘Begin the Beguine’ playing on the record player, Marilyn removed her clothes, reclined on a red velvet blanket, and afterwards was paid $50 for her efforts. When asked years later what it felt like, Marilyn replied, ‘Very simple . . . And draughty!’ and although the photos are considerably tame compared to modern standards, she was so anxious not to be recognized that she signed the release ‘Mona Monroe’.
Initially Marilyn had felt OK about posing nude, since she certainly needed the money and was somewhat naively convinced that no one would actually see the photographs. However, as time wore on she became increasingly worried, especially when it became clear to her that Kelley intended to sell them to a calendar company. She admitted her concern to Bill Pursel, who remembers: ‘She told me she had done something she was ashamed of, and she wanted to tell me about it before I found out elsewhere.
‘She said she wanted to apologize and started to cry, before finally telling me she had posed nude and had done it because her rent was way past due. She then asked if I would look at the pictures and when I said yes she produced them. My first reaction was that these photos were not pornographic at all and they were actually very good. She said the photographer had promised not to sell them but I told her that he probably would, since selling photographs was what he did for a living. I told her that I thought the pictures were in good taste and she asked if I was ashamed of her, to which I said no, but that neither she nor I could undo something that was already done and I was in no position to object to them anyway.’
Early in 1949, Marilyn was stopped by agent Louis Shurr who told her: ‘Lester Cowan, producer of “Love Happy” was looking for someone “just your type” for added scenes. I rushed over and was hired on the spot. I not only got on the screen but stayed there for one full minute. I could hardly believe it.’ The film was a Marx Brothers comedy acting alongside Groucho in a small but memorable role, playing a woman who requires detective Groucho’s help, because ‘Men keep following me.’ The detective rolls his eyes, shrugs and exclaims, ‘Really? I can’t understand why.’
This was the extent of Marilyn’s cameo appearance, but it was an important role, and took her on a publicity tour in the summer of 1949, taking in New York, Chicago, Detroit, Cleveland, Milwaukee, New Jersey, Rockford and Oak Park, Illinois. The tour was an important step for the actress, but she was confused as to why they had asked her to appear at all: ‘I was on screen less than sixty seconds but I got five weeks work out of the part by going on the PA tour, which promoted the film in eight major cities. I felt guilty about appearing on the stage when I had such an insignificant role in the film, but the people in the audiences didn’t seem to care.’
On the morning of 21 June, she travelled to Warrensburg, New York, to present the Photoplay Magazine dream house to Mrs Virginia MacAllister and her son, Rusty. Mrs MacAllister had lost her husband to polio in 1945 and had been forced to move in with her parents in order to get her life back together. Marilyn and actors Don DeFore, Donald Buka and Lon McCallister were watched by a crowd of 500 local people, as they visited the house on James Street and presented Mrs MacAllister with the keys. The actors also gave interviews to the media; met local people; and posed for dozens of photos both inside and outside the house. It was good exposure for Marilyn, and the results were eventually published in the November 1949 issue of Photoplay, which was quite an achievement for the budding actress.
By sheer chance, Andre de Dienes was in New York at the time of the Love Happy tour, and he took Marilyn to Long Island in order to take some photos on the beach, wearing bathing costumes. She also did an interview with columnist Earl Wilson, who later wrote about the encounter in his 27 July 1949 column. He was not overly impressed with the twenty-three-year-old-actress, and regarded some of what she told him as being the work of her publicists. She had been nicknamed the ‘Mmmm Girl’ by cinemagoers who had seen Love Happy, and most of the interview was taken up with discussing this tag, along with some other minor details about her early life and the film. In all, Wilson was very dismissive of Marilyn in the interview – something that he was to apologize for later in her career.
The tour proved to be tiring work – appearing on stage at film screenings, publicity appearances, signing autographs and having her photo taken constantly. Needless to say, by the time the tour had hit Chicago, Marilyn was exhausted, physically and mentally. She took to wearing a slave bracelet on her ankle and later said, ‘I wore it because I didn’t belong to anyone although I longed to.’ She’d had enough of the loneliness on the road, and wanted desperately to go home. Bill Pursel remembered receiving a disturbing phone call from her, whilst she was in the Windy City: ‘She was crying and she was threatening to throw acid into her face to put a stop to the constant picture-taking of her. She had no privacy, and some of the photographers were rude and demanding, as though she owed them something. I tried to console her, and even though she owed them nothing, I told her it was part of the game. I asked her to immediately contact her agent to intercede and call off the wolves or she was going to fire him immediately.
‘I told her to tell her agent she was not a piece of meat and even though she understood the photo shoots were important to her career, and she tried to be congenial and cooperative, there comes a time when she deserves some space, and this was the time. I offered to fly to Chicago, but she said it wasn’t necessary ’cause she would be home in a few days. She finally stopped crying and settled down.’
When Marilyn arrived in Los Angeles a few days later, she called Bill again. He remembered: ‘We spent a very quiet evening together and all was normal. She was starting to have some second thoughts about following a movie career – she wanted to be an actress, not a sex object. We discussed schooling and training, and the difficulty involved and how only a few beautiful girls become stars.’
He later reflected on why she would be so upset with the constant attention: ‘Allow me to say, Norma Jeane was a very attractive female who could draw men like flies. She was constantly being pursued, and she had an engaging personality – she was kind and gentle. So, when beauty and kindness are wrapped in a glamorous package like her, things can be explosive on the outside, but underneath this sparkle there was a profound softness and glow.’
Although she thought briefly about giving up her career, Marilyn soon picked herself up and auditioned for a part in the Twentieth Century Fox film, Ticket to Tomahawk, staring Dan Dailey and Anne Baxter. Marilyn was to play the small part of Clara, a showgirl in a troop who join Dan Dailey in a rendition of ‘Oh, What a Forward Young Man You Are.’ Actress Kathleen Rubin had been up for the part herself, and remembered: ‘I couldn’t dance and even after spending all day with a dance instructor, I couldn’t remember a simple time step. Eventually, when it got to 6 p.m. the dance instructor told me to forget it! The studio then called for Marilyn because they knew she could dance. Although the film was mostly shot on location, one scene was a dance scene on the Fox lot. I went to see the shoot and thought Marilyn was terrific in it. Between takes Marilyn, Dan Dailey and the others would come and sit in a circle to chat; she was very nice during that time, and I really liked her a lot.’
The part Marilyn played wasn’t an important role, but it did give her a taste of location filming when the company travelled to Silverton, Colorado. The local newspapers were buzzing with the news that a film crew would be visiting the town, and on 29 July 1949, it was reported that the director, Richard Sale, had arrived. By 19 August, Empire Street had been remodelled and revamped to look like 1900s America, with saloons, business establishments, general stores and a jail; along with various extras, actors and actresses in attendance. The filming went on until mid-September, though it is likely that Marilyn did not stay on location the entire time, as her part was very small.
Around this time, Marilyn met and befriended a gentleman by the name of A.C. Lyles, who worked at Paramount Studios. Almost sixty years later, he remembered how they first met: ‘I was in St Louis opening a picture for Paramount when I read Erskine Johnson’s column in which he listed some young actors and actresses who he thought had a chance to make good. One was Marilyn Monroe. At that time, I didn’t know Marilyn. I sent the column to her care of the Screen Actors Guild. When I returned, there was a message at the studio for me to call her. She came to the studio to have lunch with me and that was the start of our friendship. My first impressions were the same as Erskine’s. She was most attractive, a saucy personality, and had all the qualities to be successful given opportunities. After that, we had lunches in the Paramount commissary, went to see movies at Grauman’s Chinese Theatre, and sometimes dinners at the Brown Derby.’
Shortly after the shooting of Ticket to Tomahawk, Marilyn took the decision to cut her hair into a shoulder-length bob. This new cut gave her a whole new image and sophistication that was missing from the ‘girl-next-door’ look of long, wavy hair. Meanwhile, Johnny Hyde continued to squire Marilyn around town, showing her off and making sure influential people saw her. A.C. Lyles remembered: ‘It was very obvious he was extremely fond of Marilyn and wanted to do everything in his capacity as a highly respected agent to advise Marilyn’s career. She was extremely fond of Johnny. Her friends also liked him and were grateful for his friendship with Marilyn. I don’t know if he ever asked Marilyn to marry him. We all loved Johnny and I’m sure that included Marilyn.’
The first acting part she obtained after changing her image came towards the end of 1949, and was that of Angela, Louis Calhern’s mistress in the John Huston movie, The Asphalt Jungle. Lucille Ryman and Johnny Hyde had put Marilyn forward for the part, but it was her audition that secured her the role. She had rehearsed for three days with Natasha Lytess, and although extremely nervous, she was determined to do a good job. Marilyn performed the audition whilst sitting on the floor, and afterwards begged the director to let her do it again. It was unnecessary, however, as Huston was impressed enough to hire her for the part – the most important of her career so far.
By now Marilyn was extremely reliant on the support of Natasha Lytess, and as a result, the coach was a constant presence on the Asphalt Jungle set, even giving up her job at Columbia in order to give 100 per cent of her time. This was the beginning of what would become a director’s nightmare, where Marilyn would look to her coach for guidance instead of the director himself. In fact, in one particular scene, Marilyn can be seen quickly glancing off set in the direction of her coach, to see if her performance was OK. Still, in spite of that, Marilyn did a tremendous job with the four scenes she had, and when the film was released on 23 May 1950, it gained favourable reviews not only for the main cast, but for her too.
On 28 October 1949, Louella Parsons reported in her syndicated column that Marilyn had called her with great excitement, to tell her about her part in The Asphalt Jungle. During the call she lavished her thanks on Joseph Schenck, ‘who gave me my first job in the movies,’ Johnny Hyde for signing her, and John Huston for accepting her. ‘I am just grateful to everyone,’ sighed the woman described by Parsons as ‘One of the sweetest girls I know’. This was a far cry from the desperately unhappy girl who had phoned Bill Pursel just a few months before; for once she was enjoying her success and making the most of her newfound popularity.
By the beginning of 1950, Marilyn was auditioning for parts at the newly formed Players Ring Theater at 8351 Santa Monica Boulevard. She never won a part but by this time Twentieth Century Fox were becoming keen on her once again, and on 5 January 1950, she began shooting The Fireball, followed in April 1950 by the small but important role of Miss Caswell in All about Eve. The film was a vehicle for film legend Bette Davis, with co-stars Anne Baxter, George Sanders and Celeste Holm, making it the first film Marilyn had appeared in with such a hugely talented cast. ‘It was only a small part,’ she said, ‘but I was thrilled to be working with Sanders, Bette Davis and Anne Baxter.’ The experience was daunting, but she really held her own, and although only hired initially for one week’s work, she ended up spending a month on the set.
However, she made relatively few friends, particularly because every time she had a scene to play, shooting would be held up by her continual lateness. Celeste Holm later remembered that the actor Gregory Ratoff once declared, ‘That girl will be a big star!’ to which Holm retorted, ‘Why, because she keeps everyone waiting?’ The actor replied, ‘No, she has a quality.’ But someone who did not feel the same way was George Sander’s wife, Zsa Zsa Gabor, after rumours surfaced on the set that Marilyn had had an affair with the actor. True or not, the episode was to come back to haunt her several months later, when she was invited to a party given by photographer Anthony Beauchamp. On realizing that Marilyn was not only at the party, but also speaking to her husband, Zsa Zsa is said to have stormed into a bedroom with her mother, staying there until her husband was ready to leave.
But Marilyn probably didn’t spend much time worrying about Zsa Zsa, as she was much too busy with her career. She was still in great demand from photographers, and on 17 May 1950, Earl Leaf travelled to Hyde’s North Palm Drive home and photographed her in the garden, playing with her new chihuahua Josefa, and posing among the trees and shrubbery. Shortly after, she took part in a screen test for a new gangster film called Cold Shoulder, which was to be produced by George Jessel. The screen test went well enough to draw the attention of the media, and on 18 July 1950 Louella Parsons announced that Marilyn had won the part and would be acting opposite Richard Conte and Victor Mature. The part was still being talked about in August, but it was all an illusion; under instructions from studio boss Darryl F. Zanuck, Cold Shoulder was shelved.
But it wasn’t all bad news. Because of her new ‘bobbed’ hair and the small parts in The Asphalt Jungle and All about Eve Marilyn started to draw attention from syndicated journalists such as Sheilah Graham, and the aforementioned Louella Parsons, who started to compare the starlet to Lana Turner. This comparison was flattering but she was eager to dispel any similarities: ‘I don’t think I’m another Lana Turner,’ she said. ‘I think I have a personality all of my own.’
Interestingly, during the summer of 1950, it was reported that Twentieth Century Fox had bought the rights to Anita Loo’s screenplay, Gentlemen Prefer Blondes. On hearing about this, Louella Parsons wrote in her 2 September column that they should consider using Marilyn for the part of Lorelei Lee. Her wish came true some two years later, when Fox did choose her to play Lorelei in the film. But for now she had to content herself with playing small roles, and for most of 1950 Marilyn worked hard and won parts in films such as Right Cross and Hometown Story, along with making a television commercial for Royal Triton Gasoline.
Determined to make it as a star in Hollywood, Marilyn spent a lot of time studying the actresses at Twentieth Century Fox, and in particular, Betty Grable. During an interview with film and theatre critic Michael Thornton eight years after Marilyn’s death, Celeste Holm recalled that the starlet had been obsessed with Betty Grable and would follow her around, sit through her films many times and try to emulate her position and success. ‘She wanted to be Betty Grable,’ Holm told Thornton.
Several years later Betty Grable told Thornton herself that it was true Marilyn used to follow her around, ‘to the point that it got a little bit scary’. However, she eventually understood her fascination and told Thornton that she thought Marilyn was a person with no clear identity of her own, and that everything she did was a desperate search for identity.
Her search and perseverance were beginning to pay off, however, as she continued to win small mentions in the many gossip columns that crowded the Los Angeles newspapers. Her love life was also winning publicity when Sheila Graham reported on 12 October that Marilyn had been spotted at the beach with none other than Peter Lawford, the man who would be pivotal in introducing her to the Kennedy family some eleven years later. Marilyn denied the involvement, however, saying ‘as a matter of fact I’ve never had a date with Peter. We were at the same table at a night club and I may have danced with him, but that hardly constitutes a date and certainly not a romance.’
Lawford had apparently been pursuing Marilyn for several years. Bill Pursel remembers driving over to see Marilyn several years before, while she was still living with her late Aunt Ana: ‘When I drove up to Aunt Ana’s house, there she was standing alongside a convertible with Peter Lawford inside; his arm hanging out, talking to Norma Jeane. She saw me, and came dashing across the street and jumped into my car with a smiling. “Hi, Bill.” We took off leaving Lawford sitting in his convertible. I asked Norma Jeane if I was interrupting something and she said, “No you aren’t . . . You just rescued me from a beach wolf.” She laughed, and said he’d been after her before.’
But while Bill may have ‘rescued’ her from Peter Lawford back in 1947, by the summer of 1950 their relationship was about to end. One of their last dates was at a drive-in movie, as Pursel remembered: ‘It was a double feature and Norma Jeane had been on a photo shoot at Catalina Island all day. We were as close to being in love that night as we ever were; she laid her head in my lap and went to sleep, and I could feel the warmth and closeness. Later, while we dined I looked into her eyes and told her I might be falling in love. She smiled and said, “That’s my line, even though you said it first.” We kissed across the table; the waiter appeared and asked us if we would like to order some dessert and we laughed.’
But while love may have been on the table just a few months before, by the time Bill graduated from college Marilyn had decided the relationship was over. It came as a shock to Bill, particularly as they had briefly talked about marriage and had recently looked around show houses during a day out in San Diego.
The last time he saw Norma Jeane was on the evening before he was due to travel to Las Vegas. He remembered: ‘I was packed to go home early the next morning; it was around 7.30 p.m. and I called her to say bye. She said she had a couple of pictures for me and could I come by in the morning; I said we are leaving at dawn, could I come by now? She said OK, so, I drove to her apartment, and she answered the door with a smiling “Hi.” She was in a white terrycloth bathrobe, did not invite me in and before I could say anything she said, “I’ll be with you in a minute,” then disappeared to her right, leaving me standing in the hall. She left the door wide open and just inside there stood two large suitcases; each of them had silver initials near the handles: the initials were RR.
‘Norma Jeane came back to the door and asked me if I had a pen; I didn’t; she said hers was about out of ink, but she would try to make it write and she again disappeared for a few moments leaving me standing in the hall. When she reappeared she handed me two large photos; I said thank you, she smiled and said, “I hope you like them.” I told her they were very nice. She then moved behind the two suitcases and said, “I really do hope you like them Bill.” I said I liked them very much and we just stood there looking at each other. I was stunned by her look; it was the same look she had given Jim Dougherty when he came for the car keys back in 1946. Finally I said, “Good bye,” and she responded with “Bye” and sort of gave me a little wave. I turned and slowly walked away; so angry that I nearly tore the photos up. As I reached the stairs down I heard her door slowly close and this was the last time we ever saw each other. I walked away feeling like an intruder, which I guess I was.’
The friendship had been important to both of them, and had seen them through some exciting and difficult times, but now it was over and the two were destined never to see each other again. Still, it did not stop Pursel caring for the girl he always knew as Norma Jeane, and sixty years later, he still remembers their friendship with great fondness: ‘It was an exciting time of my life – I was settling down after twenty-two months of war in Europe, I was getting good grades in college, I was maturing, and I had a gorgeous blonde to squire around, but . . . I knew early on that this interlude in our lives wasn’t going to last: Norma Jeane was hell bent to make it in Hollywood, and I just kept encouraging her. I had a long way to go in college, and even though she wanted me to go to Actors Lab and pursue an acting career I had other ideas. I knew I had to let her go, but it was a great (and personal) ride while it lasted. I was saddened, but not surprised, when she crashed a few years after we lost contact with one another. There wouldn’t be anything to gain to embellish this connection between Norma Jeane and me – it’s best to just say we were close and had fun together.’
By now Marilyn was living in an apartment on North Harper Drive, which she shared with Natasha Lytess, her daughter, Barbara, and their cook, Clara. It was an arrangement that suited Marilyn down to the ground, as it gave her a chance to work with her coach at all times of the day and night. However, it didn’t always suit Natasha and she became fed up with having to clear up after Marilyn’s chihuahua Josefa, even going to far as to threaten her with the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals if she didn’t take better care of it.
In August Marilyn took a vacation with Natasha Lytess to Palm Springs, and at the beginning of September, Lytess began working at Twentieth Century Fox. The end of September brought a flurry of activities for Marilyn: on 28 September, she signed a release form for a LeGalion perfume campaign; and on 1 October she placed some of her personal effects into storage at the Janis Van and Storage Company, while also writing a cheque for $10 to Grace Goddard, who had moved back to California and had taken on the unofficial role of Marilyn’s assistant.
Things were moving along nicely, but it wasn’t long before she was dealt a massive blow when Johnny Hyde was admitted to hospital in early November. Louella Parsons reported on 7 November that he had a bout of flu, but in reality his heart problems were getting worse and he did not have much longer to live. Newspapers at the time told how Marilyn was ‘devotion itself to her agent and best beau’, and that she was an everyday visitor to his bedside. Natasha Lytess was later to deny this, however, stating that Marilyn was forever late in visiting Hyde, and he once even phoned Lytess to ask where Marilyn was, and complained of her selfishness at keeping him waiting.
‘I loved him dearly, but I was not in love with him,’ Marilyn said in 1952. She knew that Hyde longed to marry her, but she just couldn’t do it – they both knew that, and yet Hyde refused to let the subject go. Perhaps by being late to the hospital, by fussing with her hair and make-up for hours on end, Marilyn was putting off the inevitable conversation of him asking for her hand in marriage, and her having to turn him down, yet again.
Friend and lover, Elia Kazan summed it up when he wrote in a letter to Marilyn, ‘[Johnny] made you his when you really didn’t love him – which is a terrible thing to do to anyone. You took shelter under his roof like a hurt animal.’ In turn, she was to confide to Kazan that the more Hyde begged her to be his wife, the less she loved him and indeed began avoiding him because of his anxiety over their relationship.
Hyde couldn’t stop his infatuation, however, and continued to beg her to become his wife. When she turned him down on one particular occasion, he finally felt he’d had enough and told her the relationship was over. Marilyn did not wish to cause her lover any hurt, and telephoned him the next day, when he was particularly abrupt on the phone. Later that day she went to visit Hyde and was shocked when he asked if she would consider pretending to be his fiancée instead, an offer which she immediately turned down.
In December, thanks to Hyde, Marilyn shot another screen test at Twentieth Century Fox, and later that month she started shooting a small role in As Young as You Feel. All this became insignificant, however, when Johnny Hyde suffered a major heart attack and died on 18 December 1950. Marilyn later told reporter Jim Henaghan that Johnny had once said that if he died, she was to hold him in her arms, and life would come back again. When she was told of his death whilst standing in the hospital corridor, she later claimed to have run into his room and held Hyde’s body for half an hour before finally giving up. This seems quite unlikely, however, as his family were at the hospital and had already refused her entry into the room, disliking her immensely: ‘They thought I was awful,’ she later said. So much so, it would seem, that as soon as Hyde passed away, they issued orders that Marilyn was to stay away not only from his North Palm Drive home, but also his funeral, which was to take place on 20 December. ‘They were spitting tacks,’ remembered actress Annabelle Stanford.
Ignoring his family’s wishes, on 19 December Marilyn went shopping for a funeral outfit at I. Magnin, and that night claimed to have sneaked into the North Palm Drive house, where Johnny’s body was lying. According to Elia Kazan, she spent the entire night with the body, and then slipped out of the house in the morning to prepare herself for the funeral at Forest Lawn Memorial Park.
Rumour has it that she became hysterical during the funeral and one of Hyde’s children later remembered hearing Marilyn shouting his father’s name over and over again. Marilyn herself later told reporters that she ‘felt such a sadness for him, I threw myself on the coffin and wished I was dead with him’.
The actress was absolutely devastated to lose her protector and it took his death for her to realize the true extent of her feelings towards him. She later expressed her feelings to Jim Henaghan: ‘Once I was in love with a man. He was old enough to be my father and people called me a dumb blonde because they didn’t understand and I knew they didn’t understand and I was afraid to talk about it. And then he died.’
Despite being seen as something of a gold-digger, Marilyn received nothing from Hyde’s will, and ended up with a few pieces of bed linen and several towels as reminders of their relationship. She sank into a deep depression over the loss of her mentor, and just a day or two after the funeral, Natasha Lytess claims Marilyn made an attempt to take her own life. According to the drama coach, she found a note pinned to her pillow which read: ‘I leave my car and my fur stole to Natasha,’ and another on her bedroom door, saying ‘Don’t let Barbara [Lytess’ daughter] come in.’ Natasha then claimed that Marilyn was lying in bed with her cheeks ‘puffed out like an adder’. When she didn’t answer Lytess’ call, the drama coach said she forced open her mouth and scooped out a handful of dissolving pills.
This story came to light when Natasha Lytess wrote an embittered account of her relationship with Marilyn after they had parted ways, and could very well be exaggerated. What is more interesting, however, is that while Natasha Lytess quite happily reported Marilyn’s ‘attempted suicide’, she failed to mention her own apparent overdose on Tuesday, 23 February 1943.
Astonishingly, her story is almost word for word the same as the one she attributed to Marilyn nearly eight years later: allegedly Lytess overdosed on tablets at her home on North Harper Drive, and was discovered unconscious on a bed by some friends. She was then rushed to West Hollywood Hospital, where she was treated for an overdose of sleeping pills and later discharged. According to police reports, Natasha disclosed that she had been ‘upset due to personal reasons’ and had ‘mistakenly taken too many tablets in order to get some rest’. The whole story was then reported in the Los Angeles Times on 25 February 1943 but has remained long buried until now.