Mr. Widmark Knocked...

With Richard Widmark and Marilyn Monroe on the brain (the sex tape! The gentleman!), I'm re-running my piece on "Don't Bother to Knock," a movie that not only boasts one of Monroe's greatest performances, but a wonderfully nuanced role for Widmark as well.

Oh Marilyn. I know, I know, we all love Marilyn Monroe (or we're supposed to) but I’m not going to stray from her simply because she’s so damn popular. The tragic heroine princess to every aspiring starlet or little girl or grown woman is our coffee mugged goddess, so ubiquitous that, I think, we sometimes take her for granted. Especially in her early and later roles (my two favorite periods for Marilyn). From the fresh faced, sublimely natural starlet sporting jeans in Fritz Lang’s Clash By Night to the methody, tired, tragic and lonely lady of John Huston's The Misfits, I find Marilyn’s first and last hopes at proving herself on screen immensely powerful.

Such is the case in Monroe's first starring vehicle, 1952's Don't Bother to Knock. There’s a prophetic sadness permeating her nuanced, fascinating performance, and for a picture of this period, her delusional babysitter (freshly released from an insane asylum) is surprisingly sympathetic. Knowing all we do about the troubled star, it most likely wasn't a stretch for the then-relative newcomer to understand the pathology and despondency of her character Nell, a beautiful young woman burned by love who can't handle the breach between reality and fiction. A film noir of sorts, director Roy Baker's part-thriller, part-character-study is a tense tale with plenty of pathos geared toward Marilyn, who wasn't the full-blown MM superstar yet. As Nell, a mysterious girl who takes on a babysitting job in a hotel where her creepy, sad-sack uncle (Elisha Cook Jr. — who else) works, Monroe enters the picture in plain clothes, dark blonde hair, and little makeup. Though she's no plain-Jane, she looks like a "nice girl" — nice enough for hotel guests the Joneses (played by Jim Backus and Lurene Tuttle) to allow a stranger to watch over their cute little daughter Bunny (Donna Corcoran). After quickly putting the girl to bed (clearly she's not interested in the kid), Nell plays dress-up in Mrs. Jones' fine silk robe, perfume, and diamond jewelry.

Meanwhile, cocky, self-absorbed airline pilot Jedd Towers (a very layered, and sexy Richard Widmark) is stinging from rejection after the hotel chanteuse (a young, gorgeous Anne Bancroft) dumps him.  Spying the beautiful Nell from his window to hers (which is damn hot) he finds some new action when the lonely Nell signals him from her room. He comes over for a good time, likes what he sees, and basically puts up with her strange behavior until it gets a little too freaky; a little too desperate. When she comes on strong, he exclaims: "You bother me! I can't figure you out! You're silk on one side and sandpaper on the other!" To which MM answers, "I'll be whatever you want me to be!" This is too much, especially from a woman this beautiful and he answers perplexed: "Why?" Indeed. A man, even Richard Widmark, can only take so much, and when Nell hangs Bunny out of the hotel window, he really starts thinking she might not be worth the tumble. But here’s the poignant part—Nell doesn't really mean any harm. She's just disturbed and frequently suicidal. And here’s a novel idea—she desires a man to take care of her without hitting or hollering at her desire to look gorgeous. She should be normal dammit!

But, why? Why must women have to be so normal? Though suffering from deep seated psychological problems, I sense that it’s this type of "normal" pressure making her crack (the punishing and smarmy Cook Jr. doesn't help either). Monroe portrays these ideas beautifully, so much so, that I wondered how much of her real life was seeping into her performance, it plays so real. I kept wishing that she could just get out of that hotel, doll herself up and have some fun with a man who might understand her. Widmark isn't really the one, even though underneath his smirk and swagger, he’s essentially a good heart.  Interestingly, however, the moral of the story comes at Nell's expense — Widmark’s Jedd becomes a better, more decent man by not giving into temptation with a supposed psycho (which, in Widmark's strong, able hands, is entirely believable). Poor Nell, and poor Marilyn. In real life, most men wouldn't so sensitively resist.

Comments

[Shawn]

Most people (then and now) regard Bus Stop as Monroe's breakthrough as a "real" dramatic actress, but she's amazing in Knock, which is sometimes labeled one of her lesser efforts. I personally prefer the charming light touch Monroe brought to her impressive comic work in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, How to Marry a Millionaire, and The Seven Year Itch (in all three films, Monroe makes everything she does look easy, but it's not a breeze to nail a sweet dumb blonde (who, nevertheless, can be "smart when it's important") role without coming across at times as exaggerated, annoying, and stupid, just ask all of those "rivals" Monroe was supposed to have in the 1950's).

However, without even a wisp of humor on display, Marilyn's still in a class by herself in Knock. Considering her status at the time as Hollywood's newest "It" girl, she was brave to take on such a flawed character, and play the role so honestly, without any winks to the audience that "it's still really just me, Marilyn Monroe, pretending to be unbalanced, so don't worry too much, okay?" She took the unpleasant card even further in Niagara, wherein she's (internally, at least) out-and-out vile- her Rose Loomis has no bloom and every thorn imaginable. The fact Monroe's so gorgeous in Niagara makes her character meaner and even more repulsive than if Rose wasn't as attractive as Venus- couldn't this discontent wife just ditch Joseph Cotton and all of her nefarious activity, and take off to Hollywood with her hot boyfriend to become, well, Marilyn Monroe? Knock's Nell might be too off-center to make the trek, but Rose is one hard-nosed cookie, and she could do better for herself.

I think if a Susan Hayward or Eleanor Parker had given the same Knock performance in 1952, an Oscar nod wouldn't have been unheard of. Hell, compare Monroe's work in Knock to Hayward's okay but sometimes slick acting that year in her Oscar-nommed With a Song in My Heart performance (or, for that matter, with Joan Crawford or Bette Davis' "out-there" nominated work that year), then ask who deserves the greater kudos.

[Carol]

I agree with Shawn about Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, How to Marry a Millionaire, and The Seven Year Itch. I didn't care for Marilyn in either Bus Stop or The Misfits or in anything post-Method (except Some Like it Hot).

[sid]

I just came online after watching 'Night and the City' my second Widmark after 'Pick Up On South Street' which had left me kinda cold a couple of years back.. and it was an experience to watch him wheel-deal his way through the streets.. and reading your posts on him was a whisky delight.. you just got yourself another dedicated reader.. Thanks