![]() And while both Dominik and Oates would probably claim that that’s by design-again, this is a work of fiction, not a straightforward biography- Blonde allows no room for the real-life Marilyn’s multidimensionality, her capacity for delight as well as her deep depressions. We love Marilyn so much- as a face, as a symbol, as a bottomless well that will take as much pity as we can pour into it-that collectively we seem to have lost sight of one of the central truths of her being: she was a phenomenally intelligent and gifted actor, a woman whose natural charm and devotion to her craft resulted in work so delightful, and sometimes so emotionally raw, that it’s worthy of any modern actor’s envy.īlonde is a joyless movie about joylessness rather than a film about Marilyn Monroe. The outcry was immediate and widespread-a dress isn’t just a dress when it was worn by Marilyn. Very recently a woman who’s famous mostly for being famous, however that works, insisted on wearing one of Marilyn’s dresses, among the most precious and recognizable in the world, to a glamorous, high-profile party, reportedly straining its fragile fabric irreparably. Her death in 1962 is still a magnet for conspiracy enthusiasts, particularly given her involvement at the time-or even just mere friendship, if that’s what you want to believe- with John F. ![]() And so she has become our doll, a naked form to dress as we please: We know all about the sadness of her life, to the extent that her name has become a synonym for emotional fragility, a vessel we can fill with our own fears about loneliness and self-doubt. Even though we’ve had 60 years to figure out how we feel about Marilyn Monroe, no one really knows what to do with her.
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