Scene from The Seven Year Itch |
On this day in 2012, The Oscar Buzz launched as a place to celebrate all things involving awards season. As its core writer, I feel that it has given me a lot of opportunities and has even expanded my general interests as I've gone deeper into what makes an average film year remarkable. It's expanded to include coverage of awards season (Nothing But the Best, Best Song, Failed Oscar Campaigns) as well as indie film (A24 A-to-Z) and even stage musicals (Legitimate Theater). Whatever the subject, I have enjoyed exploring in grand detail and raising interest in the discussion of a medium that means the world to me. For a website that started to track The Master's Oscar chances, it has evolved into something greater, and I'm proud to see it continue to flourish.
So, how exactly do you celebrate seven years? In general, I have used this area to discuss my life in relation to film. It has ranged from discussing favorite EGOT winners to favorite nominees of the same source material (last year I discussed Pygmalion and My Fair Lady). While it was difficult to land on a specific subject, I began to realize that instead of doing a list, I am choosing to use director Billy Wilder's The Seven Year Itch as a springboard to discuss my love of a very certain kind. After all, I have been with this sweetheart for seven years. How could I not have some itching going on? Much like the Marilyn Monroe vehicle, I still have a lot to say, and what follows will hopefully give you a sense of who I am through the lens of a performer who deserved more credit than she deserved. I hope by the end you'll understand what really made her special to me.
If one is to read about Wilder's working relationship with Monroe, they will quickly discover a divide that rose from such films as The Seven Year Itch and the more acclaimed Some Like It Hot. Monroe was considered to be tough to work with, and it's a reputation that has followed her for a fair chunk of her career. In fact, whole generations only know her for the image that Wilder bestowed upon her in The Seven Year Itch where she walks atop a grate, her skirt flying up as she joyfully tries to hold it down. To some extent, Monroe has been marginalized as the definitive "dumb blonde." Her soft voice made whatever vapid thing she said funny, her stare at the camera making her seem even more clueless. If one was to only know this side of Monroe, it makes sense to think that she wasn't much of an actress. While the decent biopic My Week with Marilyn did plenty to sympathize her, it wasn't enough to take her away from being more of a pin-up queen than someone worthy of acclaim on par with your Jane Russell's or Lauren Bacall's.
And yet, I think she deserves so much more than her reputation lets on. More than any other actress of the 1950s, I am charmed by what she brings to the cinema. In some ways, she was subversive and ahead of her time, choosing to play "dumb blonde" as a public persona to help her stand out from her peers. After all, a similar archetype could be seen in Judy Holliday's memorable Oscar-winning performance in Born Yesterday from 1950. The only thing was that Monroe made a career out of it in a time when the style of comedy and drama was shifting. In some ways, it's fitting that her first major role as a brief cameo in All About Eve where she appeared as an intimidating threat to Bette Midler's character. She was the hot new thing, ready to take the scene by storm. While she didn't have the personality yet, she had the charisma starting to form. Much like The Marx Brothers before or Sacha Baron Cohen decades later, she chose to play an archetype to forward her career, and the results are twofold.
The 1950's cinema dovetailed with the post-World War II boom of suburb culture that has come to be glorified in American Graffiti and the TV series Happy Days. The war was over, and everyone was happy again. One of the side effects of the war was that it gave women a chance to be in the workplace, causing an understanding that they could be resilient leaders who made great social change. This lead to a bunch of great films about gender politics including Born Yesterday and several Katharine Hepburn-Spencer Tracy vehicles like Adam's Rib and Pat and Mike. The discussion around gender politics was changing throughout the film, and in some ways, The Seven Year Itch was a mid-decade reflection of this with an exaggerated lead performance by Tom Ewell fantasizing over Monroe's sexualized persona. In the film, she played "The Girl" who was neither a complete ditz nor a genius. She was malleable, able to be molded by the men around her. It's just the role her comedies were, but what if I were to suggest that there were layers to this approach?
Sure, on the surface Ewell was able to control Monroe's complete desires, playing into this farce that men had control in the relationship. However, those who had seen films like Adam's Rib will notice a more blunt approach to the battle of the sexes with Hepburn managing to be dominant over Tracy in subtle ways. The same can be said for Monroe, who was more of a hypnotist, using her wit and beauty to manipulate men into giving her what she wanted. By the end, she was the smart one. She was a con artist capable of surviving by simply being flirty. How much you fell for this depends on how close you got to her. She seemed like the great negotiator to those who could notice her plan. Everyone else thought she was dumb and silly, creating a fantasy that was being warped from the previous decades of romantic comedies. In some ways, she was commenting on how women as submissive figures was itself a ridiculous trope.
It's why Monroe's career seems a bit unfortunate to some extent. Her most remembered work was in bit parts that only backed up the opinion that she was all looks and no brain. All About Eve saw her as an attractive alternative. The Seven Year Itch saw her as the seductive neighbor. Luckily Some Like It Hot found her able to show more of a complicated side, managing to play gullible to Tony Curtis and Jack Lemmon's cross-dressing fugitives. It was charming and gave her a chance to be playful in ways that didn't rely upon her to simply be dumb. With that said, it was one of the films that Wilder will cite as to why she found her difficult to work with. So, how can you possibly vindicate a career that deserves better than cameos and a secondary gender politics comedy?
For starters, I want to encourage you to watch more of her films with the performance aspect in mind. While it would seem strange for actresses of the time to have an archetype this subversive, it is the smartest approach to the battle of the sexes. Where Hepburn was smart and confident, Monroe was the doe-eyed girl lost in the world. She drew you in with her charm, and it was only then that you understood her appeal. This was best depicted in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes where she and Jane Russell are "Two little girls from Little Rock" trying to escape trouble. This involves boarding a ship where things go haywire. There are plenty of moments reminiscent of romantic comedies, but there are also chances to see Monroe perform her way out of trouble. At one point she gets stuck in a cabin window and finds herself having to excuse her way out of it to a child walking by. It's absurd but shows that she's able to put on the "silly old me" act by making up an elaborate story. It's silly, but most of all it reflects her ability to con her way through anything with a funny lie. Her good looks only help her to get away with things.
It helps that Monroe is a quality singer, managing to sing several numbers in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, including the echoic "Diamonds Are a Girl's Best Friend." She is the whole package as far as a performer, fulfilling the performing talent of Ginger Rogers and the seductive beauty of Judy Holliday. She was a siren, capable of drawing you in. It makes sense then why she got lobbied into such hackneyed movies like There's No Business Like Show Business which existed more to show off her talent than challenge her dramatically. Even in How to Marry A Millionaire where she must date men for their money, it's a charming performance that elevates the "sexy girl with glasses" trope into something more adorable and innocent. She had a way of adapting to the room while keeping a distance. You were attracted to her in part because there was a mystery to what many could perceive as her vapidness. If anything, it was a technique to get her further than any woman known for her confidence could. Both sides are valid in the gender politics debate, but Monroe succeeded where films like Designing Woman with Bacall failed. She was just that bit more convincing.
Even beyond her comedic gifts, the extra mile that makes her tragically underrated was that she was forming a strong career as a dramatic actress at the time of her death in 1962. River of No Return found one of her strongest against-type roles in a western where she played a brute woman who possessed the familiar confidence of her peers. She became intimidating and was a convincing lead, capable of holding her own against Robert Mitchum. In her final role, director John Huston's The Misfits, she gave a promising and vulnerable turn opposite Clark Gable as ranch hands trying to make the most of a failing farm. While there are some ethical concerns regarding the treatment of animals, it allowed her to become even more dramatic. She became a heartbreaking presence that made the story a metaphor for the dying age of classic Hollywood. To make matters more complicated, it was a film considered to be cursed as Gable was also not too far from death after the film's completion.
It is a bit unfortunate that because of My Week with Marilyn that her only remembered dramatic role was The Prince and the Showgirl, especially since it was one before she really had a grasp on her capabilities. While the biopic allowed her to be vulnerable and reflect an actress wanting to achieve more with her career, the film it was for is arguably among her least enjoyable. It also backs up Wilder's idea that she was difficult to work with, especially as she struggles with acting coaches in order to try and pull off a charismatic turn. It could be that she didn't have as much depth to her character as she did in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes. She was still a young and attractive woman. While there's not as much drama to pull from, it definitely shows how she was capable of a career resurgence well into the 1970s. Had she found a director who recognized her gifts, she could've gotten a late-in-career Oscar nomination. As it stands it's criminal that she never got nominated but Michelle Williams' decent homage did.
Monroe was too much of a public figure to get the recognition that she deserved. In some ways, she fulfilled a similar box to Audrey Hepburn, who was capable of making the world seem brighter just by her staring in awe. Maybe the only downside is that audiences weren't willing to accept her during the tragic moments, where she was required to be emotional on camera quite like Hepburn. She was a comedic actress, and that's what she excelled at both on screen and in interviews. Hepburn was more regal, capable of touring the globe. Monroe tended to have more of an American appeal, making small city life seem exciting in films like Bus Stop. Even then, her ability to explore gender politics was second to none during her best work, managing to be both affecting and funny. She often elevated her work into memorable entertainment not by going big like a Lucille Ball-type, but by going small and acting like every thought took a lot of focus. It was a quietness that was like a hunter about to pounce on their prey. Sometimes it was a joke, others showing men their comeuppance. Whatever it was, she had a skill that was fun to witness.
Did she define the modern dumb blonde? That can be argued. While Born Yesterday also helped, the film had the credit of reflecting a dumb person accidentally reflecting an intellect. Monroe often had characters who never had the great "a-ha" moment. She simply existed next to the tropes, pointing out what made them silly for the progressive 1950s audience. She had fashion, sure. She could sing, sure. But was she dumb? There are moments that are reliant on a dumb idea, but they almost always exist as part of a smarter strategy, and that's what gets lost in the shuffle. A dumb blonde is often just dumb, incapable of being seen by the public as smart. Monroe, unfortunately, feels like she fits that bill by public perception. I think if she represents the dumb blonde, it's more of a compliment than the insult that hack stand-up comics will have you believe. She may be doing dumb things, but they're inevitably for greater personal gain.
I was slow to discover Monroe's brilliance in part because her reputation preceded her. She wasn't a Jane Russell or Lauren Bacall. She never got the respect she did as an actress in her lifetime. This meant that one gets to discover her work the way that I did: by taking a chance on her work. I discovered Gentlemen Prefer Blondes one evening and found myself increasingly charmed with Monroe. While Russell was a great comedic partner, Monroe had the whole package as a performer. She added levity to simple gags, managing to unpack how her schemes were kind of dumb. She was not herself an idiot, but she had been placed in such a hairbrained moment that her dumb comments were more in tune with how an audience would respond, provided they were charismatic to think of it while trying to hold onto their dignity. Monroe never lost her dignity, even in Bus Stop which manages to be a great commentary on toxic masculinity until a faulty third act that reinforces the beliefs of the time.
I don't love The Seven Year Itch neither as a Billy Wilder movie nor a Marilyn Monroe vehicle. While I think it works out better for the latter, I think that the 1950s gender politics comedies had produced far better (usually with Katharine Hepburn and Spencer Tracy). Even then, it was a conventional comedy that compares to modern studio releases. The jokes are broad and reliant on contemporary times. It's something Wilder would do less egregiously in The Apartment, but those who can notice Monroe's subversion will get plenty to enjoy out of it. She has some borderline-smutty lines, and that's what makes her great. She knew the boundaries of her humor, managing to be sexy and seductive but still funny and smart. It was a cheeky thing that the counterculture movement of the 1960s would get more credit for in films like Bedazzled and A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum. This only proves that she wasn't only reading the script, she was critiquing it within every emotion.
I think there's some excitement in knowing that Monroe has withstood the test of time in other ways. She definitely deserves status as a fashion icon. She also gave some inspiration for the neo-noir Under the Silver Lake, such as a deliberate reference to How to Marry a Millionaire and a visual cue to her incomplete Something's Gotta Give. She continues to exist in the fray for cinephiles, which at least suggests she's capable of getting her fair shake one day. Even then, the 1950s comedies have developed a dull reputation as being predictable and simple, as if they're all dumb Leave It to Beaver stories. The best have risen above it (such as Some Like It Hot), but as a whole, they seem to be too feel good and reminiscent of a time that died with New Hollywood's ascension. However, it was a time where comedies got bolder, playing with form. The Seven Year Itch, like Damn Yankees, played with style and created the modern language by commenting on the ridiculousness of consumerism and innocent life. Even Lucille Ball and Desi Arnez made a whole movie out of pulling The Long, Long Trailer. These comedies still exist, though maybe in a more cynical form.
Still, I don't believe that anyone commented on the ways that things were changing in the '50s quite like Monroe. She may have never gotten the chance to have an Oscar-earning role or even recognized, but she definitely deserved it. I encourage you to watch Gentlemen Prefer Blondes if you don't believe me, which remains one of Howard Hawks' finest hours as a director. The music is dazzling, the cinematography is beautiful in its overripe pallet, and the performances are a delight. I think more than any other film, it will help you understand why Monroe was more than a sex symbol. She could deconstruct the romantic comedy while playing into it. There may have been more serious actresses with more powerful moments, but Monroe was reliable film-to-film. She could've been even greater if she had lived long enough for the counterculture to embrace her (if she would allow it). Speaking as figures like Cloris Leachman would have their place in The Last Picture Show, there's a good chance she would've had that role eventually.
The Seven Year Itch feels like an apt way to describe this particular anniversary, especially since I'm constantly trying to find new ways to keep this fresh and exciting. There is a lot of great stuff that I'm currently doing and even more, will be coming this Fall. For now, it's time to celebrate. I want to thank everyone who has stuck around and made this experience one of the most fulfilling points of my life as a writer. I know that I've had some bumps along the way, but hopefully, that hasn't shown in the quality of my work. I am still passionate about what I write about and feel like this has helped expand my interests into something greater. I hope that this Oscar season will be eventful, maybe even producing Joaquin Phoenix's first Oscar nomination since The Master. Whatever the case may be, there's a lot to look forward to in the road ahead. Hopefully you'll be there to keep me company.
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