My Week With Marilyn. Colin Clark

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      MM arrived early, for her, at 10.30 a.m. Paula and Hedda Rosten and AM were with her in the car. (No room for Plod!) Tension seemed high to me but MM was quite jolly.

      AM and Hedda just looked round the studios a bit and went back to Parkside. Paula took a firm grip of MM on one side and Milton, who had been waiting outside, took a firm grip of the other. They hardly bother to conceal their battle for control. And not just them – AM wants control too.

      There is no doubt MM is a huge star. Everyone is simply hypnotised when she appears, including me. Everything revolves around her, whether she likes it or not, and yet she seems weak and vulnerable. If it is deliberate, it is incredibly skilful, but I think it is a completely natural gift. All the people round her want to control her, but they do so by trying to give her what they think she wants. What a paradox. Only Dame Sybil, with a heart as big as a house, can bypass all this nonsense. She can get away with being natural with MM because she is so naturally nice. Which none of the rest of us are, of course.

      We are all really thinking of what we want underneath. ‘Oh what a nice pot of gold you are. Can I help you, pot of gold?’ etc. Dame S simply is not interested in gold.

      Meanwhile life goes on. Filming starts on Monday and everything needs to be ready. Studio A is now bursting with technicians, preparing the equipment. The first shots on Monday will be unimportant – just there to make sure everything works, camera, lights, sound etc.

      Jack Cardiff has to have the right lights hanging from the grid. It looks a total muddle but it has a pattern which only the gaffer and he understand. The lights get very hot – I dread to think what the temperature is up on the gantry. Whenever possible the lights are all switched off. ‘Save the lights’ is the cry, and there is a great clunk and what seems like darkness for a moment. But actually there are work lights which always stay on. They make everything look tawdry and pathetic. Carpenters are hammering, scene painters are finishing back-drops, curtains (drapes) are being hung and ornaments are being selected to decorate the set (props).

      Roger Furse is meant to be in charge of the scenery but his assistants hardly seem to have time to listen to him.

      Bumble Dawson is clearly close to a breakdown. She has all the costumes to worry about and some aren’t to her liking.⁴⁹ My little Wdg, who works for Bumble of course, is too busy to give me anything but a smile, but we do have another date for Saturday night.

      FRIDAY, 3 AUGUST

      Tony B is incredibly nice. It seems he and Anne have rented a large house near Ascot, at Runnymede, where King John signed the Magna Carta. They want me to come to live with them there while filming is going on. It is much nearer the studios than London, of course, and not far from Tibbs and Englefield Green. Since I have to be at Pinewood by 6.40 a.m. every morning from now on, that is very good news.

      But the real joy is to be invited to be part of ‘the family’. Tony B and Anne are very much part of SLO and Vivien’s ‘family’ and now I will be too. I always have a tendency to feel lonely unless I am with people. It is an absolutely lovely idea and I accepted with much gratitude.

      Rehearsals ended at lunchtime and all the cast dashed off for the weekend.

      ‘Not you,’ said David sternly, and we stayed to see the last person leave. I don’t mind. My mind is firmly fixed on tomorrow night.