My Week with Marilyn

When playing an icon as massively recognizable as Marilyn Monroe, elevating your performance beyond the visible reach of the movie that encases your work doesn't seem too farfetched. Maybe it's even appropriate. Such is the case with Michelle Williams' brilliant portrayal of the tortured star in the otherwise merely admirable biopic My Week with Marilyn. That the movie manages to be mainly average while playing home to such an astonishing performance is fairly acceptable and I don't mean to suggest that director Simon Curtis or screenwriter Adrian Hodges bring nothing of interest to the picture. It's just that Williams is operating on another level, delivering a performance that is dearly deserving of recognition as a true highlight of 2011 cinema.

Adapting a particular chapter of Marilyn's life from an autobiographical novel by Colin Clark proves to be a wise decision. As the title suggests, the movie takes place in a short period of time and the protagonist is actually Colin Clark himself (played by Eddie Redmayne), who would later publish his written account of the time he spent with Marilyn on set and off during the 1956 shoot of a movie then titled The Sleeping Prince (it was eventually released as The Prince and the Showgirl, which makes it easier to discern Marilyn's role). Colin's lowly job as a third assistant director meant he had to hunt down Marilyn in her dressing room quite often, as she rarely made the effort to be on time during shooting. These basic errands allowed room for a brief relationship to blossom between Marilyn and Colin and so we are afforded a glimpse through a foggy window at a star whose fame masked her fears.

It's certainly a more interesting setup than the potential whole life scenario that has previously plagued past biopics. By focusing on a brief period of her life and forcing us to watch her through someone else's eyes, the mystery of Marilyn Monroe is maintained. This approach also sets up further challenges for Williams, who clears each hurdle with seemingly effortless ease. Since she's playing a version of Marilyn under a microscope, she still has to limit her depiction of the star's fractured psyche. We see Marilyn behind the scenes and away from the movie set and we witness extreme highs and devastating lows, but our perspective is always limited and we are never invited to fully examine Marilyn's mental state.

This approach means Williams has to create an entire portrait through fragmented pieces of a balancing act that acknowledge her duelling sides. There's the charm of her onscreen persona in some scenes and the pain of her crippling self-doubt in others. Williams conveys each end of her emotional spectrum with absolute authenticity and care, never pushing a scene into maudlin territory and never letting her performance dip desperately into caricature. It's a brave, solid, sexy performance delivered with such honesty that it all feels endlessly fresh and engaging and, of course, believable.

Each time Marilyn winks or waves or blows a kiss, it's difficult not to melt in your seat as her undeniable heat radiates from the screen. This is the Marilyn that is so well known and Williams makes the most of her sultry suggestions. And when we see Marilyn shed a tear or briefly panic or succumb to her fears of inadequacy, it is heartbreaking in its harrowing mystery and tragic implications. Williams never simplifies the icon's mental and emotional state, instead embracing, rather beautifully, the complexities of her rich role.

The rest of the cast fills in the blanks with varying degrees of success. Redmayne is decent as the impressionable young Colin, who has managed to stumble upon a dream job. Colin is a pretty smart guy and Redmayne ensures that his protagonist is likable and interesting enough to warrant attracting Marilyn's attention. It's not exactly a glamorous role, but Colin's eyes are our eyes for most of the movie and he's at least a decent guy to spend some time with.

Kenneth Branagh turns in the movie's second best performance as screen star Laurence Olivier, who not only shared the screen with Marilyn Monroe in The Prince and the Showgirl, but also directed the star, too. Branagh's role is a little one-note at times, given that he's almost perpetually frustrated with Marilyn's on set confusion and constant tardiness, but it's still a grandly exciting and often very funny performance that is aided by some pleasantly subtle makeup work. Branagh puts his boisterous charisma to good use and he channels Olivier quite convincingly. Less convincing is Julia Ormond's uncomfortably bland appearance as Vivien Leigh. It's okay to not look exactly like the famous actor you're playing, but I couldn't see any Leigh in Ormond's brief performance whatsoever and I wouldn't know her from a script supervisor if it wasn't for the occasional mentioning of her name.

Everyone else fares relatively well, but this is really all about Michelle Williams. The strongest aspects of Curtis' direction are those that accentuate the central performance. The obstacles he places in Williams' way help push her performance to delectable heights and his desire to reveal only small portions of the mysterious shroud that looms over Marilyn further flesh out an effectively haunting portrait of the doomed star. My Week with Marilyn does many good things and is eminently watchable, but its ultimate triumph traces back to Williams. With her magnificently memorable performance, she conjures charm out of thin air. I am entirely under her spell. How could I not be? As Marilyn, Williams sizzles and mesmerizes and exquisitely enchants. A week with her is clearly not long enough.