My Week With Marilyn

Photo Courtesy of Jenny Hutton

I recently watched "My Week with Marilyn" (2011), which now earns a place among the better films I’ve seen this year.

The story, adapted from Colin Clark’s memoirs, "The Prince, the Showgirl and Me" and "My Week with Marilyn", is straightforward. It follows Clark’s alleged relationship with Marilyn Monroe (Michelle Williams) during the London production of "The Prince and the Showgirl", starring Laurence Olivier (Kenneth Branagh). At the time, Clark (Eddie Redmayne) was a junior assistant on set, a peripheral figure drawn into Monroe’s orbit.

The film centres on Monroe’s relationship with Clark, while also capturing the charged dynamics of those around her, including Vivien Leigh (Julia Ormond). She is adored, resented, and mythologised in equal measure, surrounded by admiration, yet starved of genuine affection. When faced with the possibility of relinquishing fame for love, she chooses the stage, only to reveal, almost immediately, the fragility beneath the persona. "Should I be her?" she asks, before stepping fully into the role.

This duality defines the film. A copy of "Ulysses" on her bedside table hints at an intellectual depth often denied her public image, while her vulnerability surfaces in her dependence on acting coach Paula Strasberg (Zoë Wanamaker). She oscillates between self-possession and childlike need.

The production’s attention to detail is particularly striking. Monroe’s iconic hair, so often mishandled in portrayals, is convincingly realised here, avoiding the artificiality that can break immersion. It’s a small but significant triumph.

If there is a flaw, it lies in the physical portrayal. Monroe’s presence was famously expansive, she seemed to overflow the frame, whereas Williams appears more slight. That sense of overwhelming, almost gravitational allure is occasionally diminished. Still, Williams delivers a nuanced and compelling performance, any shortcomings feel more directorial than hers.

Ultimately, the film is visually elegant and well-acted, capturing the complexity of Monroe’s persona without pretending to resolve it. The question of who she truly was remains unanswered, and that, perhaps, is its greatest strength.