Don’t Bother to Knock and Let’s Make Love showcase the different sides of this film icon’s talent
Few, if any, screen figures could ever leave such an impact on the moviegoing public, going beyond the label of legend to become a bonafide myth. Yet that’s the very fate which befell Marilyn Monroe upon her premature death in the 1960s when her already-popular image became immortal, along with the theories about her past, life, and death. Monroe has been hilariously sent up in pop culture numerous times, (with 1992’s Death Becomes Her being my most favorite) while those who encountered her, such as Jane Fonda, have offered up new insights through their brief time with her, and screen depictions continue in the shared aim of being the defining chronicle of Monroe’s life.
Most often pushed to the side, is the film legacy Monroe left away from the persona she herself helped cultivate. It’s a shame that Monroe’s film output continues to be so often overlooked since it’s more than obvious how important it was to her. A story Fonda continues to tell recalls a terribly shy Monroe sitting in the back of Stella Adler’s famed acting class, eager and willing to immerse herself further in her craft. However the efforts of Monroe to establish herself as an actress seemed constantly at battle with the studio’s movie star profile, as seen by the opposing nature of the projects she fought for, and the ones she was ultimately assigned. In looking at a pair of Monroe titles, 1952’s Don’t Bother to Knock and 1960’s Let’s Make Love, a slightly fascinating study emerges featuring an actress trapped inside a movie star.
One of the only thrillers she ever made, Don’t Bother to Knock sees Monroe as Nell Forbes, a troubled woman recently released from a mental hospital following a suicide attempt, who gets a job as a babysitter in the hotel her uncle (Elisha Cook Jr.) works in. Eventually, Nell charms another guest, a recently-dumped Richard Widmark, who recognizes her instability and tries to put a stop to things before something happens to the child in the next room. On the flip side, the fluffy Let’s Make Love, Monroe’s penultimate film, saw the star play a New York stage performer named Amanda Dell, who starts to fall for French businessman Yves Montand when he goes undercover in the off-Broadway show she’s starring in, which happens to be spoofing him.
The nature of the two projects couldn’t have been a more different showcase for Monroe, illustrating both the level of her ascent and the outlook on her as an actress. Don’t Bother to Knock is first and foremost an ensemble film with a handful of other stories taking place, most notably the doomed romance between Widmark and Anne Bancroft (excellent in her film debut). Monroe’s Nell is by far the film’s most intriguing character, all but ensuring she would stand out amongst the various players. There’s also an anonymity to the film which makes it feel more like a title one would discover, rather than cite as one of their favorites. Conversely, Let’s Make Love never once comes off as anything BUT a Marilyn Monroe star vehicle. With top director George Cukor at the helm, the production values, from costumes to cinematography, (both of which take great care to do right by their leading lady) are all tops. The plot goes where anyone would expect it to, with some awkward celebrity cameos sprinkled throughout, while the musical numbers are well-shot, if instantly forgettable. Even if Let’s Make Love bears quite a striking resemblance to Monroe’s far superior The Prince and the Showgirl, the charm of it remains plentiful enough to see it through to a satisfying end.
The characters Monroe plays in the two titles are just as opposing as the films themselves. Don’t Bother to Knock’s Nell is a deeply troubled soul who is unhinged and only somewhat aware of the reality she’s in. The scene by herself in the hotel room where she takes on the guise of the kind of woman she wishes she actually was evokes the kind of tragic instability of her character’s fragile state. Nell’s mentally damaged self and her habit of getting lost in fantasy turn her into the film’s most indespensible character. The same can’t be said for Let’s Make Love’s Amanda. Ostensibly the female lead, the character is still the centerpiece, but easily the movie’s most throwaway aspect. Offering virtually nothing to the movie she’s in, Amanda can’t help but come off as anything but a construct, crafted around the image of Monroe in the eyes of the industry and the fantasies of the public. It’s hard to play an image, especially when by this point in her career, what Monroe really wanted was to play a character. Despite one scene in which Monroe’s belated acting training manages to come through (seeing a real actress briefly emerge) the movie’s script has her in the mode of bubbly, sensual comic release. Still, traces of her surefire wit come through, despite the efforts on behalf of the bland material to stifle it.
The nature of both film’s scripts, direction and characters are all interestingly summarized in the performances Monroe gives in each one. Furthermore, both turns, wildly different as can be, say a lot about Monroe’s own exploration of her craft and the industry’s building up of her. A true actress; one who is both instinctual and curious, can be found in the work Monroe does in Don’t Bother to Knock. Although it’s an early film, she exudes a keenly perceptive take on her character through a performance which is internal and tense-filled, but also surprisingly gentle. The big character monologue Monroe is tasked with delivering shows some great acting and a terrific example of controlled madness. In Let’s Make Love, the only thing that saves Monroe from being outdone by Montand is her ability to deliver lines as a well as her knack for decently carrying a tune. It’s only a shame she’s not asked to do much else. While one film allowed Monroe to venture inside her character and show a natural talent despite no training, the other offered her virtually no character to play at all, thereby wasting the actual studying she had gotten in between films.
One of the other noticeable differences between both Don’t Bother to Knock and Let’s Make Love was the way in which they were received; not so much the amount of money each one brought in, but rather what the returns said about the films themselves; and in the latter’s case, Monroe. Made on the cheap, Don’t Bother to Knock brought back a respectable enough amount of money to be considered a hit for the studio, albeit a decidedly soft one. Meanwhile, the box-office take of Let’s Make Love gave its studio one of its biggest moneymakers of the year and one of the top grossing films of the year overall. Yet many were quick to declare the film a disappointment for failing to measure up to the financial success of some of Monroe’s previous outings such as The Seven Year Itch and How to Marry a Millionaire.
Fan or not, I don’t know if any movie lover can ever look a film featuring Monroe and not be influenced by Marilyn, the mythologized creature everyone either thought they knew or were longing to know. It takes some work to look past the image she had only somewhat of a say in, which would eventually overshadow her. But those who are able to will find a talent wich had the shine of a movie star and the mind of an actress. The actress Monroe truly was more than comes out through her cunning desperation in Niagara, her sly wit in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, her comic timing in The Prince and the Showgirl and her stark rawness in The Misfits; all titles which showed her capable of rising above whatever starlet image any universe could ever create.
Don’t Bother to Knock and Let’s Make Love are both available on Blu-Ray from Twilight Time.
