"But how?

"He has a ladder and he's on it and he's watching me," Marilyn continued.

"Marilyn, a ladder would not reach the third floor. You must be dreaming," Lucille told her.

"But I'm awake. I'm awake I'm awake."

This conversation continued until, finally, the Carrolls decided they had no choice but to have her join them at their own home that night. They felt they had their hands full with her and didn't know what to do about it. "At one point, we thought about it and realized that she was running our lives, calling all the time, crying on the phone," said Lucille. "We didn't know what to do. A lot of crazy things were going on... it was too much. She didn't know how to handle her life... she fell apart. We liked her but we needed her and her craziness out of our lives."

The Carrolls were about to get their wish, because Marilyn would be out of their lives by the beginning of 1948. In February, they took her with them to a party where she met a businessman named Pat DeCicco, a Hollywood playboy once wed to Gloria Vanderbilt. He was also a friend of Joe Schenck, the sixty-nine-year-old president of 20th Century-Fox. As it happened, Schenck asked DeCicco to find him some models to act as window dressing at a Sat.u.r.day night poker party at his home. DeCicco asked Marilyn if she would be interested. All she would have to do, she was told, was look pretty and pour drinks for Schenck's friends, perhaps also give them a few cigars, but that was it. It sounded easy enough and also like a great opportunity, so she agreed. Of course, that's not all that was going on at the party, as Marilyn found out once she got there. Some of the ladies present-all models and aspiring actresses-were willing and able to give themselves to any of the male guests since most of them were power players in show business. Marilyn, though, stayed close to Schenck. By the time the evening was over, he was mad for her, saying she "has an electric quality... she sparkles and bubbles like a fountain." The next day, he sent a limousine to pick her up and drive her to have dinner with him. That night, she had s.e.x with him.

"I can't say that I enjoyed it," Marilyn later told her movie stand-in, Evelyn Moriarty, of her a.s.signation with Schenck. "But I can say that I didn't feel as if I had any choice." She said that she felt the whole event had been "very tawdry" and that she felt "terrible about it. It was like giving up my soul." However, she also allowed that she was starting to understand what she called "the Hollywood game" and she knew she had no choice but to play it if she were ever to make a name for herself in show business. It was a sad realization, she said. "But it's the truth," she concluded. She and Schenck continued their relationship off and on for some time, and, by some accounts, eventually she grew quite fond of him.

Schenck persuaded Columbia Pictures head Harry Cohn to take a look at Marilyn's screen test. Cohn wasn't that interested. However, her test footage started circulating through the studio system, and eventually ended up on the desk of Columbia talent head Max Arnow. Also unimpressed by it, he asked one of the studio's drama coaches, Natasha Lytess, to take a look. She wasn't thrilled either-it seemed that no one was impressed. Lytess noted that Marilyn seemed to suffer from a lack self-confidence. However, there was still something interesting about her, Natasha thought. Her quality was difficult to describe, but it had to do with her beauty and vulnerability. She wanted to work with her, believing that "perhaps she has some potential." Harry Cohn decided to offer Marilyn a six-month contract at $125 a week beginning on March 9, 1948. Suddenly, she was signed to Columbia Pictures.

Natasha.

Natasha Lytess, who was thirty-five in 1948, once said that when Marilyn Monroe showed up in her office on March 10, 1948, she was wearing a red wool top and a very short dress that was cut too low. Lytess referred to it as "a trollop's outfit." When she met Marilyn, her suspicions about her lack of confidence were confirmed. In fact, she said, she was "unable to take refuge in her own insignificance." Natasha was a character herself, though. Her pencil-thin figure and pale complexion suggested that something was very wrong with her health. She had dark, menacing eyes. She rarely smiled. She was a serious actress actress and and drama coach- drama coach-everything she ever said about the acting field was, in her view, of great urgency. She was self-important and judgmental of everyone in her life. That said, she was also thought of as a brilliant teacher. Marilyn needed someone strong in her life at this time-a Grace G.o.ddard who could actually do more than just dream about what it might be like if Norma Jeane could be a star. Natasha had an impressive library of show business books in her cottage office, which Marilyn began to devour. The two women spent endless hours talking about the art of acting and how Marilyn might become better at it. Natasha worked on Marilyn's diction, her delivery-her style. Actually, some of what Marilyn would learn from Natasha would work against her in the future. The exaggerated way she would enunciate every syllable as well as the way she moved her lips before speaking were unfortunate consequences of her work with Natasha. Marilyn would have to break these habits in years to come. Fine for comedy, this style was not appropriate for dramatic roles.

At the beginning of her work with Natasha, Marilyn was pretty much a clean slate upon which could be painted any artistic vision. "As a person, she was almost totally without fort.i.tude," Natasha would say of her. "You could say she was someone afraid of her own shadow, so terribly insecure, so socially uncomfortable and shy, and never knowing what to say. She would ask me, 'What should I say?'

"I tried to get her to draw upon herself, to go into her own experiences, but I don't believe she ever did. Marilyn denied who she really was, except for her s.e.x appeal which she had confidence in. She knew it worked-and she was as graceful with her appeal as a swimmer or a ballerina."

"I want to recreate you," Natasha told Marilyn. "I shall mold you into the great actress I suspect-though I must say I do not know-you can be. But to do so," she told her, "you must submit to me. Do you understand?" Her Sapphic intentions were clear.

Marilyn understood. However, she was not going to comply. She had submitted to Joe Schenck and regretted it, even if it did serve a valuable purpose in her career. She quickly determined that she was not going to do the same for Natasha Lytess. Still, she didn't want to say no-not yet.

In the environment between an acting teacher and student, many emotions come into play. Student and teacher access feelings and transfer them into characters, into roles-and, sometimes, into each other. One day, according to Natasha's unpublished memoir, she embraced Marilyn and told her, "I want to love you." Marilyn's response was, "You don't have to love me, Natasha-just as long as you work with me." For years, Marilyn was used to giving women what they wanted-Ida, Gladys, Grace. It was as if she had now drawn a line.

Helena Albert was a student of Natasha's at this time, and also a confidante. "Natasha often blurred the lines," she recalled. "She did with me, as well. But when Marilyn came into the picture, everyone else paled in comparison. I felt that Marilyn should have backed away when she knew how much Natasha cared for her, but instead I think she used it to her advantage. It was torture for Natasha-but not so bad for Marilyn. She had a good teacher, a smart woman in her life-someone to emulate, to learn from. You can't blame her for wanting it to last. I actually cornered her about it."

According to Helena, she went to Natasha's office one day for a meeting. Just as she got to the cottage, Natasha was leaving it in tears. "I can't see you now," she said as she brushed by. Helena went into the cottage and found Marilyn sitting in a chair, staring into s.p.a.ce with a faraway expression.

"Is everything all right?" she asked Marilyn.

Marilyn just continued to look straight ahead.

"Marilyn? Is everything all right?"

"No, it's not not," Marilyn finally said, as if coming to her senses. "I'm afraid Natasha doesn't know what the word 'no' means. And I'm tired of having to say it to her over and over again. Why can't we just do what we do best-act?"

"It's more complicated than that," Helena allowed. "And you know it, Marilyn."

"No, it's not," Marilyn said. She rose and faced her. "You don't always get what you want in this life, Helena," she said. "I have wanted many things and have not gotten most of them. Do you know what I think? I think Natasha is spoiled. I think she has always gotten what she's wanted, and doesn't know how to handle it when she can't."

It was clear not only that Marilyn had lost her patience with Natasha, but also that she was cold to her and not very empathetic about her feelings. After spending so many years suppressing her emotions and trying to be what others wanted her to be, perhaps she didn't understand why Natasha couldn't do the same thing. She gathered her things and, before leaving, turned to face Helena. "If you see her, tell her I'm sorry," she said, "but there's nothing I can do about it. Tell her I hope she'll continue with me, but if not, I will try to understand." With that, she took her leave.

"The truth is, my life, my feelings were very much in her hands," Natasha Lytess said many years later. "I was the older woman, the teacher, but she knew the depth of my attachment to her, and she exploited those feelings as only a beautiful, younger person can. She said she was the needy one. Alas, it was the reverse. My life with her was a constant denial of myself."

And thus it would remain-for six more long years.

Disappointment.

On March 14, 1948-just a week after Marilyn signed with Columbia-her beloved Aunt Ana pa.s.sed away from heart disease. She was sixty-eight. Oddly, she was buried in an unmarked grave at Westwood Memorial Park, though a small plaque was put on it a few years later. It's been published in the past that Marilyn did not attend the services, that she was too busy with her budding career. This is not true, according to her half sister Berniece's memory. Marilyn would never have missed Ana's funeral. Actually, she and Grace and Doc G.o.ddard had a private viewing of Ana's body, and then a tearful Marilyn slipped away before the other mourners arrived. She later said of Ana, "She was the one human being who let me know what love is." Ana left a book for Marilyn called The Potter The Potter, along with a note: "Marilyn, dear, read this book. I don't leave you much except my love. But not even death can diminish that, nor will death ever take me far away from you."

Marilyn Monroe would say that she was "miserable" after the death of Ana because, as she put it, "I was left without anyone to take my hopes and my troubles to." It was probably fortunate that she had her career to turn to at this time, as she began working on a low-budget musical, her first film for Columbia, Ladies of the Chorus Ladies of the Chorus. In it she had a leading role in which she sang two solo numbers-"Every Baby Needs a Da Da Daddy" and "Anyone Can See I Love You"-as well as two duets with Adele Jergens. There was also a certain amount of dancing involved in her work in this film, a real challenge for Marilyn. This was a strange little movie, just an hour long, and it took only ten days to film, but Marilyn was surprisingly good. Her singing voice was a revelation. However, when released later in the year, the film did nothing for Marilyn's career. She would be dropped from Columbia soon after its release, much to her disappointment. "I went to my room and lay down on my bed and cried," she recalled. "I cried for a week. I didn't eat or talk or comb my hair. I kept crying as if I were at a funeral burying Marilyn Monroe. I hated myself for having been such a fool and having had illusions about how attractive I was. I got out of bed and looked in the mirror. Something horrible had happened. I wasn't attractive. I saw a coa.r.s.e, crude-looking blonde."

Marilyn moved into a double room at the Hollywood Studio Club in June 1948, where she paid twelve dollars a day for room and board. She needed to save money-things weren't going as well as she had hoped-and this seemed like the best way to do it. She didn't like the place, though, because it reminded her of the orphanage. She was dating a man named Fred Karger, who was the musical supervisor of Ladies of the Chorus Ladies of the Chorus, and it wasn't going well.

Though these were dark days, Marilyn tried to keep a stiff upper lip. She had been relegated to doing TV commercials by the end of the year and felt that perhaps her movie career was over. Short-lived and over. "But there was something that wouldn't let me go back to the world of Norma Jeane," she recalled. "It wasn't ambition or a wish to be rich and famous. I didn't feel any pent-up talent in me. I didn't even feel that I had looks or any sort of attractiveness. But there was a thing in me, like a craziness that wouldn't let up. It kept speaking to me."

"You never know when you'll get that big break," Natasha always told Marilyn. "And when it happens, you'll know it." Indeed, "it" would happen for Marilyn at the end of the year when she attended a New Year's Eve party at the home of movie producer Sam Spiegel. During the course of the evening, she was introduced to a William Morris agent named Johnny Hyde. In the instant she extended her hand to shake his, a major shift took place in her world... and things would never again be the same.

Johnny Hyde.

Marilyn Monroe had met a wide a.s.sortment of characters in her last couple of years in show business circles, but n.o.body like Johnny Hyde. At fifty-three, he was barely five feet tall, of slight build with a receding hairline, not especially handsome. His head was set too close to his shoulders and he had a thin nose and not enough s.p.a.ce between his eyes. There was something about his physical presence that seemed frail and sickly-and indeed he had a heart condition that was serious enough to require weekly visits to a cardiologist. The Russian son of a circus acrobat, he was a study in contradictions, not the least of which was that despite his unimpressive appearance and unwell demeanor, he was an extremely powerful person. Well-respected in the industry, he was manic when it came to his show business pursuits. The entertainment business was always foremost in his mind. "Everyone knew that Johnny lived and breathed show biz," one of his friends once said. Quite a few actresses owed their careers to this man, women like Rita Hayworth, Lana Turner, and Betty Hutton. He also represented Bob Hope.

When Johnny met Marilyn, it was as if his world suddenly stopped spinning. He'd never laid eyes on anyone so beautiful, and he knew he had to have her. "He was an interesting guy," said Bill Davis, who, as a young man of seventeen, worked for the William Morris Agency and often directly under Hyde. "Smart as a whip. Aggressive. Pa.s.sionate. A ladies' man, even if he wasn't a looker. He fell hard for Marilyn from the very beginning, sending gifts and love letters to where she was living and really coming on strong. I imagine it would have been tough for her to ignore him or rebuff him because, after all, he was a powerful man. She was in trouble. She needed help with her career."

"I have it in my power to make you a star," Johnny told her shortly after meeting her. "And I don't mean a contract player, either. A star!"

"When I first mentioned my acting hopes to Johnny Hyde, he didn't smile," Marilyn would recall. "He listened raptly and said, 'Of course you can become an actress!' He was the first person who ever took my acting seriously and my grat.i.tude for this alone is endless." This was hyperbole on her part, but she made her point with it.

"From my understanding, it was a straight out deal between them," said Bill Davis. "She said she wanted to be in movies. He said he could make it happen. He was influential in the business. Meeting him was, I think, probably the best thing that had happened to her up to that time. There were dozens of starlets who wanted to sleep with him just for the chance to have him in their corners. Of course, she had to have s.e.x with the guy. I mean, he had to get something out of it, too.... That's the way it worked."

In January 1949, Marilyn found herself in Palm Springs with Johnny. It was there that they consummated their relationship, despite the fact that he was married. Power being the greatest aphrodisiac, Marilyn was actually attracted to him and didn't just sleep with him to get ahead in her career-though it didn't hurt. A month after she had s.e.x with him, she found herself doing a cameo appearance in a silly Marx Brothers movie called Love Happy. Love Happy. It was a United Artists low-budget, stolen-diamond backstage romp that is significant only as the final film appearance of the legendary Marx Brothers. It was a United Artists low-budget, stolen-diamond backstage romp that is significant only as the final film appearance of the legendary Marx Brothers.

The promotional tour Marilyn would embark on to promote Love Happy Love Happy (when the movie would finally be released during the summer) was more noteworthy than the film itself. She had an opportunity to visit major cities and generate a great deal of press for herself. "I was on screen less than sixty seconds," she recalled, with typical Marilyn hyperbole, "but I got five weeks work... going on the 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 audiences didn't seem to care." During this time, she became known as "The Mmmmm Girl." The PR line had to do with the notion that some people can't whistle, so when they see Marilyn all they can do is say "Mmmmm." No such utterance would be forthcoming, however, for (when the movie would finally be released during the summer) was more noteworthy than the film itself. She had an opportunity to visit major cities and generate a great deal of press for herself. "I was on screen less than sixty seconds," she recalled, with typical Marilyn hyperbole, "but I got five weeks work... going on the 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 audiences didn't seem to care." During this time, she became known as "The Mmmmm Girl." The PR line had to do with the notion that some people can't whistle, so when they see Marilyn all they can do is say "Mmmmm." No such utterance would be forthcoming, however, for Love Happy Love Happy. Certainly, with his many resources, Johnny Hyde could do better for his best girl than "sixty seconds" in a Groucho Marx movie.

"He made it pretty clear to her from the very beginning that he would bust his hump for her," said Bill Davis. "It wasn't subtle. It wasn't suggested. It was clear. I was actually in their presence shortly after they met and heard him say to her, 'You will be the biggest thing in this town if you just give me a little time to work some business out for you.' She just smiled and acted sort of coquettish. I remember thinking that she was just another empty-headed floozy, which was reductive, I know. But that's how she struck me. She didn't seem like she had any brains. All I ever heard from her was 'Yes, Johnny' and 'No, Johnny' and 'Anything you say, Johnny.' He would berate her and she would be fine with it. Sometimes she called him 'Daddy.' I remember thinking, 'Oh, his wife is gonna just love this.' "

During this promotional tour, a friend named Bill Purcel, who lived in Nevada and whom Marilyn met when she was there for her divorce, received a troubling telephone call from her. She was crying. "I can't stand the constant picture taking," she told him. "I'm going to throw acid on my face," she threatened, "if that's what it will take to get them to stop!" She seemed as if she were on the edge of a breakdown, and she wasn't even that famous yet. "She had no privacy and some of the photographers were rude and demanding," Purcel recalled, "as though she owed them something." Marilyn understood that having her picture taken was part of her job, but during this tour she felt as if even her small amount of fame was too oppressive. Eventually, she rebounded.

Johnny would say that he fell madly in love with Marilyn at the very moment they met and would remain devoted to her for the next year. She never felt the same about him. However, he was so smart, so interesting, and, of course, so powerful she felt drawn to him. Hyde encouraged Marilyn to dig even deeper into the craft of acting than she had already done with Natasha. He wanted her to expand her intellectual scope by reading Turgenev and Tolstoy. She couldn't get enough of both writers. She also enjoyed both volumes of The Autobiography of Lincoln Steffens. The Autobiography of Lincoln Steffens. Steffens (18661936) was one of the world's first celebrity journalists to challenge the status quo. He was so controversial in his attacks on political corruption that President Theodore Roosevelt coined a term for it-"muckraking." Johnny also suggested novels by Thomas Wolfe and Marcel Proust as well as specific books about moviemaking. She devoted herself to doing whatever he asked of her in this regard. When he gave her Stanislavsky's Steffens (18661936) was one of the world's first celebrity journalists to challenge the status quo. He was so controversial in his attacks on political corruption that President Theodore Roosevelt coined a term for it-"muckraking." Johnny also suggested novels by Thomas Wolfe and Marcel Proust as well as specific books about moviemaking. She devoted herself to doing whatever he asked of her in this regard. When he gave her Stanislavsky's An Actor Prepares An Actor Prepares, she read it as a textbook because she knew she would be quizzed on its specifics. That was fine with her. She had a voracious appet.i.te for knowledge and couldn't wait to discuss with Johnny whatever book he had recommended. "You've been through so much," he told her, echoing what Natasha Lytess kept telling her. "You should draw on that for your acting." Hyde's advice was pretty much what Stanislavsky had in mind with his book.

Johnny didn't want Marilyn to waste a second of her day. For instance, she had a habit of talking on the phone for hours. That had to end, he said. "He wanted her every waking moment to be devoted to doing something progressive for her career," said Marybeth Hughes, a beautiful blonde actress who once dated Hyde. "Once you got into Johnny's whirlwind, your life was no longer your own. Most women couldn't take it. Most women didn't think it was worth the high drama he brought into their lives. You had to be pretty strong to be with Johnny Hyde."

Just as Johnny had said he had never met anyone like Marilyn, the same was true of her. All of the men she'd known in the past had been disappointments, going all the way back to Wayne Bo-lender, who certainly loved her but ultimately was weak when it came to standing up to his wife, Ida. She couldn't imagine Johnny being cowed by anyone. He was her protector; she felt safe in his arms. Of course, in that role, he also became a father figure to her. The reasons she sought one are obvious, and he certainly fit the bill. In the end, though, because there were so many different levels to their romance, it was complex, and thus often th.o.r.n.y.

Luckily for Marilyn, Johnny Hyde was as generous as he was supportive. Marilyn always had money as his girl, which was a refreshing change. Finally, she could take a deep breath and focus on her career-as he demanded-rather than on her financial woes. After he set Marilyn up financially, moving her into his new home after he left his wife and children, Hyde began to constantly pester her to marry him. He wasn't above pulling tricks that she was accustomed to doing herself, such as painting a dark picture of circ.u.mstances in an effort to gain sympathy. "I'm dying," he would tell her. "You know, it's my heart, Marilyn. I'm going and it'll be soon. And when I die, you'll be a very rich woman if you marry me." Those kinds of pleas from Johnny pretty much fell on deaf ears. Marilyn would sleep with him-he was very nice, and in a way she loved him, even if she wasn't in love with him-but she wasn't going to marry him. However, there was another wedding in the family: Gladys's.

Gladys Marries.

While Marilyn Monroe was navigating delicate terrain with Natasha Lytess and Johnny Hyde, her mother, Gladys, was involved in her own little romantic escapade. Surprisingly enough, sometime in April 1948 she ran off and married a man named John Stewart Eley. Marilyn was thunderstruck by the news. Certainly, Gladys was not emotionally equipped to be in a marriage with anyone, yet she had once again done the unexpected by taking a husband. "But who is this guy?" Marilyn asked Grace G.o.ddard. "I have no idea," Grace said, according to a later recollection. "Oh, no. Now, I'm really worried," Marilyn said. Marilyn immediately felt that she was at fault. However, she wasn't even sure where Gladys had been, and it was thus difficult to monitor her. Grace told Marilyn that it was impossible for Marilyn to have a career in show business and also be responsible for her impulsive and troubled mother. "She has to live her life," Grace said. "Oh, my G.o.d," was all Marilyn could say in response.

Still working for the William Morris Agency under Johnny Hyde, Bill Davis recalled, "I was in the office with Johnny when Marilyn rushed in looking wild-eyed. I remember she had on a white blouse that was b.u.t.toned all the way to the top with long sleeves. And she had on white slacks. The reason I remember this is because it struck me that for someone known as a s.e.x G.o.ddess she sure didn't show much skin in her day-to-day activities." * *

"Johnny, oh, Johnny. I need your help," Marilyn said, according to Davis's memory.

"Sure, doll. What's the problem?"

"My mother has married some loser and I'm very worried about her," Marilyn said, upset. She sat down in a chair, seeming exhausted. She then said that she wanted Johnny to find out anything he could about John Eley. "I cannot believe my mother would get married," she said. "Can you even believe it?"

Since Johnny had never met Gladys, he didn't have an opinion about her marriage. However, he would definitely help Marilyn, he said. And he had the right connections to be successful at it. While she sat before him, he picked up the telephone and hired a private investigator to look into the matter.

A couple weeks later, Gladys wrote to her daughter Berniece, who had just moved to Florida with her husband and child. She explained that Eley was from Boise, Idaho, and had just arrived in California "for work," though she didn't specify what kind of employment. She sent a picture of him. "He looks nice enough," Berniece told Marilyn during a telephone call. "Well, Johnny is looking into it for me," Marilyn told Berniece. "He'll get to the bottom of it. I trust him."

Soon, information from Johnny's PI began to trickle in about John and Gladys. Apparently, they had met at a bar somewhere in Santa Barbara. Eley had told his friends that he'd "landed Marilyn Monroe's old lady," and that he was waiting for the moment when he might meet the screen star. Meanwhile, he was going to try to take care of her mother, whom he described as "the craziest broad you've ever met." He said that Gladys heard voices in her head, talked to herself, and, as he put it to one friend, "scares the s.h.i.t out of me." When Johnny Hyde relayed this information to Marilyn, she was angry. "That b.a.s.t.a.r.d," she said. "Is he trying to use my mother to get to me?" Hyde wasn't sure, but he agreed that it appeared that way. He promised to continue looking into the matter.

A few weeks later, Marilyn received a letter from John Eley, sent to her home. He wrote that he was taking care of her mother but that he needed money to do it. If she cared anything about Gladys, he wrote, then she would not ignore his request and would send him a check for a thousand dollars. She brought the letter to Johnny and asked what she should do. "Well, you can't give this sonofab.i.t.c.h a thousand bucks, that's for sure. That's a lot of money," Johnny said. It was decided that Marilyn shouldn't respond to the letter at all. If she did, Johnny reasoned, Eley would believe that he had a communication with her and would not stop with the money requests. All of this was very difficult for Marilyn, and it weighed heavily on her. "I think I'm going to be dealing with this kind of thing for the rest of my life," she told Johnny Hyde. He smiled at her gently. "You always said you wanted a mother, sweetheart. Well, you got one. We don't get to choose our mothers, kid."

Shortly thereafter, Berniece received a letter from Eley. Now he wondered if it would be possible for him and Gladys to move to Florida and live with Berniece and her husband and child. He said that he repaired appliances to make a living and was working out of his truck. His plan was to park his truck in front of the Miracle home; he and Gladys would live with the family as he worked. This sounded like a terrible idea to Berniece. When she told Marilyn about it, Marilyn was also skeptical. She said that she didn't know what her mother had gotten herself into with John Eley, but she was certain it wasn't anything good.

She was right.

In about a month's time, Johnny Hyde's PI came back with the news: John Eley was a bigamist-he had another wife in Idaho.

Fifty Bucks for Nudity?

By May 1949, it appeared that Marilyn had reached an emotional impa.s.se with Johnny Hyde. He still wanted to marry her and was becoming insistent about it. However, she would not be bullied into matrimony, and was just as adamant in her position. Earlier, he had taken an apartment for her at the Beverly Carlton on Olympic Boulevard in Beverly Hills, now the Avalon Hotel, while she was living with him in his home. It was just for the sake of appearances. However, by May she was living in it, and determined to pay her own rent and expenses. She needed to do something to generate income on her own, though. "I was never kept," she would say in 1962, looking back on this time. "I always kept myself. I have pride in the fact that I was on my own." In a few months, Johnny would arrange for her to make a brief appearance in a dreadful movie called A Ticket to Tomahawk A Ticket to Tomahawk. Again, it would not amount to much. When her car was repossessed, she knew she needed to take action.

One day, while searching through her business cards hoping that one might inspire her to seek work, she saw one given to her by a man named Tom Kelley. Marilyn had met him under strange circ.u.mstances. Back in October (of 1948), she was on her way to an audition when she became involved in a minor automobile accident. One witness at the scene was Kelley, who, as it turned out, was a former employee of a.s.sociated Press, having worked for that news-gathering organization as a cameraman. Marilyn told him she had an important audition and, because of the accident, no way to go to it, and no money for a cab either. He felt sorry for her and gave her five bucks and his business card. That was the last time she thought about him, until now finding that card.

Rather than call Tom Kelley, Marilyn decided to simply appear unannounced at his studio in Hollywood. After a brief conversation with her, Kelley told her that a model he was about to shoot for an ad for Pabst beer had called in sick. Would Marilyn like the job? Of course. He then shot a few rolls of film of Marilyn playing with a beach ball. They shook hands, he gave her a few bucks, and she left.

Two weeks later, on May 25, Tom called Marilyn to tell her that the mock poster that had been produced for the beer campaign was a hit with Pabst and had somehow gotten into the hands of a person who manufactured calendars in Chicago. He wanted her to pose nude. It would be discreet but, definitely... nude. She thought it over, but not for long because she really didn't have a problem with it. Thus, two nights later, Marilyn found herself writhing around on a red velvet drape, posing, preening, and pouting while arching her back to make even more obvious two of her greatest a.s.sets. Meanwhile, Tom Kelley snapped away. The photos that resulted are extremely tame by today's standards, but still she didn't want to be acknowledged as having posed for them, which is why she signed the release "Mona Monroe." She was paid just fifty dollars. (A great Marilyn Monroe quote comes to mind: "I don't care about money. I just want to be wonderful.") Years later, she would describe the experience as "very simple... and drafty!" And that was the end of it, as far as she was concerned.

For now. * *

PART FOUR.

Stardom

Unwelcome Visitors.

Marilyn Monroe's bad-luck streak in films would finally be over by the end of 1949 when she made a career-altering trip to Culver City, home of Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer. MGM, or Metro, as it was known by the cognoscenti, was the jewel in the crown of the studios const.i.tuting the motion picture industry of the day. It would be for this studio that Marilyn was cast in a new film to be directed by John Huston-The Asphalt Jungle, based on the novel by W. R. Burnett. Finally, Johnny Hyde had come through for her by arranging a meeting with Huston and Arthur Hornblow, the producer. Unfortunately, Marilyn thought she almost blew the audition by dressing too provocatively for the reading of the script. She knew her character was supposed to be s.e.xy and thought she should dress the part. It was too much. It made her look as if she were relying on her body and not her acting skill to land the role. She was very nervous; the audition did not go well. Still, she was called back for a screen test. She fared much better in it, thanks to the concentrated effort she gave to preparing with Natasha Lytess. Louis B. Mayer was impressed with the result, and she was cast in the role. based on the novel by W. R. Burnett. Finally, Johnny Hyde had come through for her by arranging a meeting with Huston and Arthur Hornblow, the producer. Unfortunately, Marilyn thought she almost blew the audition by dressing too provocatively for the reading of the script. She knew her character was supposed to be s.e.xy and thought she should dress the part. It was too much. It made her look as if she were relying on her body and not her acting skill to land the role. She was very nervous; the audition did not go well. Still, she was called back for a screen test. She fared much better in it, thanks to the concentrated effort she gave to preparing with Natasha Lytess. Louis B. Mayer was impressed with the result, and she was cast in the role.

This was a big career move for Marilyn, and of course there was a certain amount of anxiety about it. Even Johnny Hyde-unflappable in his belief in Marilyn-had some misgivings. "You have to break down and cry in this," he told her. "Do you think you can do it?"

"But you're the one who said I'm a star," she told him. "Are you saying you don't think I can do it?"

"I do," he told her. "But I'm just worried. Let's continue to have Natasha work on this."

It was when Natasha began coaching Marilyn on the actual script for The Asphalt Jungle The Asphalt Jungle that something so alarming happened it caused her to contact Johnny directly. A woman who had been a friend and young student of Natasha's explained how the events unfolded. "As Natasha explained it to me, the scene she was working on with Marilyn involved her character being happy and chatting about an upcoming trip. Then there was a knock on the door and she became frightened. [In the script] a bunch of men entered, and threatened her with prison if she didn't confess to having lied about something. One evening Natasha arrived at Marilyn's apartment to work on the scene. But Marilyn wouldn't answer the door. Natasha had seen Marilyn's lights on as she walked up, but after knocking on the door and waiting a few minutes, she saw the lights turn off. Natasha persisted, calling out Marilyn's name until, finally, the lights were turned back on and the door was answered. that something so alarming happened it caused her to contact Johnny directly. A woman who had been a friend and young student of Natasha's explained how the events unfolded. "As Natasha explained it to me, the scene she was working on with Marilyn involved her character being happy and chatting about an upcoming trip. Then there was a knock on the door and she became frightened. [In the script] a bunch of men entered, and threatened her with prison if she didn't confess to having lied about something. One evening Natasha arrived at Marilyn's apartment to work on the scene. But Marilyn wouldn't answer the door. Natasha had seen Marilyn's lights on as she walked up, but after knocking on the door and waiting a few minutes, she saw the lights turn off. Natasha persisted, calling out Marilyn's name until, finally, the lights were turned back on and the door was answered.

"Marilyn said she had been hearing men outside her door all evening, and when there was a knock at the door, she just snapped and became unglued."

At first, Natasha brushed off the event, believing that Marilyn was attempting to create in her real life the fear she needed to exhibit in the film. Yet as the evening went on, Marilyn would often stop their work and tell Natasha that she was hearing voices... and to listen to see if she, too, could hear them. The source continued, "She'd ask, 'Did you hear that? Did you hear that?' Natasha would just reprimand her. She thought she was trying to make excuses for having forgotten her lines. However, before the session was over, Natasha began to feel that Marilyn was really on her way to having some kind of a breakdown."

A few evenings later, Natasha requested a meeting with Johnny Hyde.

By this time, Natasha believed that Johnny was using Marilyn for his own personal pleasure, and also to gain bragging rights about her in the Hollywood community. Natasha, having admitted her own own strong romantic feelings for Marilyn, would have been happy to see him out of Marilyn's life. She believed Marilyn didn't really need Johnny anyway. She felt that if she continued to work with her, she could be the one to build Marilyn's career. Marilyn's new reputation as a fine actress would surely, in Natasha's mind, generate work for her in major films. Moreover, Johnny's presence in Marilyn's life threatened to dilute Natasha's importance. How would it look if he were the one ultimately credited with Marilyn's success? What would happen if Marilyn felt he was more important to her than Natasha? It was in this climate of fear, insecurity, and jealousy that Natasha operated. "She wanted Johnny to back off," continued her friend and student. "I think she hoped he would see Marilyn as spoiled goods if he knew she was losing her mind, then she [Natasha] could have Marilyn to herself again." strong romantic feelings for Marilyn, would have been happy to see him out of Marilyn's life. She believed Marilyn didn't really need Johnny anyway. She felt that if she continued to work with her, she could be the one to build Marilyn's career. Marilyn's new reputation as a fine actress would surely, in Natasha's mind, generate work for her in major films. Moreover, Johnny's presence in Marilyn's life threatened to dilute Natasha's importance. How would it look if he were the one ultimately credited with Marilyn's success? What would happen if Marilyn felt he was more important to her than Natasha? It was in this climate of fear, insecurity, and jealousy that Natasha operated. "She wanted Johnny to back off," continued her friend and student. "I think she hoped he would see Marilyn as spoiled goods if he knew she was losing her mind, then she [Natasha] could have Marilyn to herself again."

To that end, Natasha told Johnny that she was worried about Marilyn and thought he was putting too much pressure on her. She claimed that the "personal attention" he expected of her also added to her stress. At first she spoke in general terms, not becoming specific about the unusual events that had unfolded at their coaching session. However, since Johnny appeared unmoved, Natasha spelled it out for him. "She's hearing voices," she told him.

Johnny wasn't surprised by Natasha's news. It was as if he already knew about Marilyn's "voices." Perhaps she had already confided in him about them. He certainly didn't throw his hands in the air and surrender, as Natasha had fantasized. Instead, he was immediately concerned for Marilyn and wanted to do something to help her. "Johnny thought of doctors as magicians," explained a coworker of his. "He was like most everybody else in the business back then. If an actor couldn't shoot a scene, the first person to call was a doctor."

Whether to treat the flu or an anxiety attack, Johnny knew that barbiturates had become a staple in the world of filmmaking. As it would happen, he would be the first to introduce Marilyn to a brand-new reality, one formed by barbiturates. He believed that such drugs could make his girlfriend's world feel like a safer place to her. He also thought, as did many people at that time, that there was no downside to these pharmaceuticals. He viewed them as a portal to happiness and fulfillment and saw the fact that they were almost exclusively accessible to the rich and powerful as evidence of their effectiveness. Perhaps he was using as a measure of the effectiveness of drugs the example of the brilliant career of Judy Garland, who for the past decade had been like an ATM for Metro: deposit drugs-uppers, downers, whatever-and out comes money, and lots of it.

At Johnny's behest, studio doctors began prescribing drugs to Marilyn on a regular basis. She happily took them. They helped, at least in the short term. Her anxieties were decreased. The voices became softer and bothered her less. Of course, there was one problem with the new reality being entered by Marilyn Monroe. It wasn't real.

The Asphalt Jungle.

In the autumn of 1949, Marilyn began work on John Huston's gritty crime drama The Asphalt Jungle The Asphalt Jungle, the first so-called caper film that was told from the point of view of the criminals. Marilyn had a showy, memorable cameo-three brief appearances that comprised about five minutes-in the noir cla.s.sic as Angela Phinley, the s.e.xually arousing, libidinous mistress of an elderly, married, white-collar crook (an attorney) played by longtime MGM contract player Louis Calhern. When finally released in May 1950, the film would earn four Oscar nominations, two of which were for Huston's writing and directing, with other nominations for black-and-white cinematography and best supporting actor (Sam Jaffe). Marilyn acquitted herself well in her work on this film, demonstrating her growing ability as an actress. Her name didn't appear in the opening credits, however. It's on a list at the end of the movie-eleventh out of fifteen names. However, it was a start-a very important movie that would be the catalyst of future big events in her life and career.

"She'd worked hard and, it seemed, had been working hard on herself for some time," John Huston would later say. "I remember the audition was interesting because the scene was supposed to be on a couch and we had no couch there, so she laid on the floor for the reading. She wasn't happy with the audition, though, and asked if she could do it again. I said, of course. Do it as many times as you like. She didn't know it, but she had the part before she even said one word.

"I just knew she was right for it before I even saw her audition for it. She was so vulnerable, so sweet, so willing, you just melted in her presence. I remember thinking, how can anyone not cast her in any movie? She was perfect for the part in The Asphalt Jungle. The Asphalt Jungle. She said to me, 'I just want you to know that this will be my most important movie.' And I told her, 'Good luck.' She was worried she wouldn't be as good in it as I knew she'd be. 'What if I let you down?' she asked me. 'You won't,' I told her. 'Just be yourself and you'll be fine.' You just wanted the best for her, you know? Maybe it was a lucky break for her, I don't know. One thing is certain, she was ready for it. She was ready for it when she got lucky." She said to me, 'I just want you to know that this will be my most important movie.' And I told her, 'Good luck.' She was worried she wouldn't be as good in it as I knew she'd be. 'What if I let you down?' she asked me. 'You won't,' I told her. 'Just be yourself and you'll be fine.' You just wanted the best for her, you know? Maybe it was a lucky break for her, I don't know. One thing is certain, she was ready for it. She was ready for it when she got lucky."

Of course, Marilyn would make sure Natasha was on the set with her every day. In fact, there's a moment in the movie where Marilyn can be seen glancing off set, presumably at Natasha for direction.

"I don't know what I did," Marilyn said when she finished her work on The Asphalt Jungle The Asphalt Jungle, "but I do know it felt wonderful!"

Years later, Marilyn Monroe noted that she first saw the finished movie with Johnny at her side, holding her hand. They didn't speak on the way home, both lost in thought about the magnitude of her achievement. "His heart was happy for me," she recalled. "I could feel his unselfishness and deep kindness. No man had ever looked on me with such kindness. He not only knew me, he knew Norma Jeane. He knew all the pain and all the desperate things in me. When he put his arms around me and said he loved me, I knew it was true. n.o.body had ever loved me like that," she concluded. "I wished with all my heart that I could love him back."

All About Eve.