Welcome back to the Deep Dive. We're here to
take, well, a whole stack of research biographies,
articles, film analysis, and really dig into
the complex structure beneath the icons. Find
out what makes them tick. And today, maybe the
ultimate icon, Marilyn Monroe. Our mission is
to look past that, you know, the blonde bombshell
image everyone knows. The caricature. Exactly.
And find the sharp businesswoman, the serious
artist, and maybe understand the trauma that
really fueled that incredibly intense but short
burst of startup. Yeah. And you have to start
with the scale, don't you? I mean, just the raw
numbers. She was a top -billed star for, what,
about a decade? Roughly, yeah. But in that time,
her films pulled in $200 million, which today,
you adjust that, it's easily over $2 billion.
Wow. That's staggering. It really is. And the
American Film Institute ranks her sixth greatest
female screen legend. That kind of impact, it's
not an accident. It's constructed. It's a performance
of femininity, yes, but also ambition. And maybe
even rebellion. Absolutely. So, okay, our job
today is to look at the person she started as
Norma Jean Mortensen and trace the steps, sometimes
really strategic, sometimes, frankly, heartbreaking
steps she took to become Marilyn Monroe. It's
more than history, isn't it? It's almost like
survival tactics, coping with just immense instability.
Okay, let's unpack this early life. Los Angeles,
1926. The thing that just leaps out from all
the sources about Norma Jean's childhood is,
well, the lack of permanence. It feels like she
was always searching for something solid. That's
exactly it. And it's the root, really, of so
much later on, the anxiety, the need for control.
Her mother, Gladys Pearl Baker, she just wasn't
equipped for motherhood, financially, mentally.
Gladys suffered from paranoid schizophrenia,
and by January 1934, she had to be committed.
Institutionalized. And Norma Jean was only seven.
Seven years old. And just like that, she becomes
a ward of the state. Ward of the state. That
means foster homes. Right. A constant shuffling.
I read about the Bollingers, these sort of evangelical
foster parents. Yes, them. And later, her mother's
friend, Grace McKee Goddard. But there were also
long stretches and institutions. Specifically,
the Los Angeles Orphan's Home, number two. Hollygrove.
An orphanage. Even if some people remembered
it okay for her. It must have felt like abandonment.
Pure abandonment. And this constant moving, this
psychological whiplash, it started showing up
physically, behaviorally. The sources mentioned
she developed quite a bad stutter. Yeah, I read
that. And became very withdrawn. You know, she
never had what you or I would think of as a stable
home. Not really. It's interesting, though, how
that instability kind of fueled her dreams. Her
foster families, maybe just to keep her busy,
they sent her to the movies a lot. A lot. And
it wasn't just fun, was it? A lifeline. An escape.
An antidote, she called it, to a world she saw
as grim. Really grim. She figured out if she
sat right in the very front row, the screen just
filled her vision. Total escape. A way to reinvent
things. So the thinking was, if life is grim,
don't just watch the fantasy. Become it. Exactly.
That's the first, maybe subconscious, but fundamental
strategic move. Her whole life became about escaping
Norma Jean. And on top of the instability, there
was real trauma. Biographers seem pretty convinced
she was sexually abused, possibly by a lodger,
maybe the foster parent. George Atkinson's the
name that comes up. Around age eight. Yes. And
that's not just some footnote, you know. That
specific trauma, her psychoanalyst talked about
it later, it gets tangled up with her struggles
with self -worth, with emotional stability throughout
her life. It connects directly to her acting
process later, doesn't it? When you think about
method acting, digging into... past pain for
authenticity. Oh, absolutely. The psychological
cost must have been immense. She was essentially,
maybe unknowingly at first, being asked to revisit
and in a way monetize the very trauma she was
desperate to escape. So fast forward to when
she's 16. Her marriage isn't really about romance,
is it? It's a defense mechanism. Totally pragmatic.
It's 1942. The Goddards, her foster parents at
the time, they're moving to West Virginia. And
under California law back then, that meant Norma
Jean faced one thing. Back to the orphanage.
Unless. Unless she wasn't a ward of the state
anymore. The only way out was marriage. So the
solution. Marry the neighbor's son, James Doherty.
Factory worker. Five years older. Just after
she turned 16. June 1942. A calculated escape.
It got her out of the system. Gave her a bit
of stability, some autonomy. But her own words
about the marriage. dying of boredom. Right,
so the moment she felt safe, that ambition, that
drive to escape the grimness, it just kicked
right back in. She needed more. Okay, next phase.
This is where she starts to actively shed Norma
Jean. World War II is kind of the trigger, right?
Doherty gets shipped out. Mm -hmm, overseas.
And she ends up working, of all places, at the
radio plane company. A munitions factory. Building
drones, essentially. Sounds completely unglamorous.
But that's where the spark happens. Late 1944,
this photographer, David Conover, from the Army
Air Force's first motion picture unit. Right,
the FMPU. He's sent there to take pictures of
women working for the war effort. Morale boosters.
And he spots her. Pure chance he was there. But
her reaction. That was strategy. She quits the
factory almost instantly. 1945. Signs of the
Blue Book Model Agency. And the sources really
stress this. They immediately pushed her towards
pinup modeling. Yeah. Not high fashion. Why is
that so key? Well, think about the time, post
-war America. The pinup market was booming. It
catered directly to that returning male days.
By going into pinups, she was consciously choosing
the sex symbol route, using her looks as currency.
It was probably the fastest, most direct path
to getting notice. And then comes the physical
transfer. Yeah. Which was like really deliberate,
straightening the naturally curly brown hair.
Light brown, yeah. And dyeing it that platinum
blonde, that iconic color, and then the name.
Name change, August 46, Marilyn Monroe. Yeah,
the Marilyn apparently came from a Fox executive,
thought she looked like Marilyn Miller, the Broadway
star. And Monroe was her choice, her mother's
maiden name, which is kind of poignant, isn't
it? A little nod back to the instability she
was leaving, even as she built this totally new
persona. And this drive, this ambition, it just
steamrolled her personal life. She divorces Doherty
in September 46. He didn't approve of the career
path. No. The marriage that got her out of the
orphanage became just another thing holding her
back. She had to cut it loose. Her commitment
was absolute. Because even when those first studio
contracts fizzled out, She had brief deals with
Fox, then Columbia. Yeah, she was basically dropped.
A failed starlet, really. But she didn't give
up. She worked as a pacer. What is that? Basically
dancing behind the scenes to keep extras in rhythm,
whatever work she could get. And she was taking
serious acting classes, the Actors Laboratory
Theater. She wasn't just relying on looks. She
was working on the craft. And that work started
to pay off. 1950. Small but noticeable parts
in really good films. The Asphalt Jungle, All
About Eve. Tiny part in All About Eve, but...
unforgettable. These roles were crucial. They
showed she wasn't just a model. Critics started
noticing. People point to Asphalt Jungle as the
moment she began that shift, you know, from movie
model to serious actress. She wanted the credibility
and the fame. But then March 1952, potential
disaster strikes. Yeah. Those nude calendar photos
from 1949 leak out. Ah, yes. The calendar scandal.
And this is where you see her shift from maybe
being lucky to being strategically brilliant
with the media. She posed back in 49, used the
name Mona Monroe because she was flat broke,
needed 50 bucks. Right. So when it breaks, the
studio instinct would be denial. Cover up. Shame.
Yeah. Damage control. But Marilyn and the studio
kind of went along with her instinct here. They
did the opposite. They admitted it flat out.
Expun it. Right. Yeah. Emphasize she was broke,
desperate. The narrative became I had to do it
to survive. Genius. Absolutely genius. It did
two things. One, it killed the photos as blackmail
material. You can't expose a secret everyone
already knows. And two, it generated this wave
of public sympathy. America loved that story.
The struggling girl forced into a tough spot.
Result. Instant boost. Top billing in her next
movie, cover of Life magazine. Talk of Hollywood.
The scandal literally made her bigger. Turned
a massive liability into pure leverage. Incredible.
And right after that, she digs deeper into the
acting, starts studying with Michael Chekhov.
Yeah, she's actively pushing back against the
dumb blonde thing almost before it fully solidifies.
Look at her roles in 52. Clash by Night, she's
playing a working class woman in a fish cannery.
Good reviews, too. Hollywood Reporter called
it an excellent interpretation. And Don't Bother
to Knock. That was a serious thriller. She played
a mentally unstable babysitter. A really dark,
traumatic role. Trying to show range. Definitely.
But this pressure. the intensity of trying to
prove herself combined with all that background
trauma, this is where the stories about her being
difficult start to surface. Right, the reputation.
And we need to be careful here. It wasn't just,
you know, diva behavior. The lateness, forgetting
lines, needing endless retakes, relying heavily
on her coach, Natasha Light. Yeah. It stemmed
from crippling stage fright, sources say. Perfectionism,
rock -bottom self -esteem, all symptoms of that
deep anxiety, the terror of failing, maybe the
terror of being exposed as Marma Jean again.
She needed everything to be perfect because the
fantasy, the Marilyn persona, felt so fragile.
Exactly. Any crap. Crack in the facade felt catastrophic.
And the sources also mentioned she hated the
lack of control on a film set. The director's
in charge there. It wasn't like a photo shoot
where she could control the image completely.
Ah, interesting distinction. Yeah. The set was
the system telling her what to do. The photo
shoot was her telling the system what to see.
This conflict plus chronic insomnia. That's when
the reliance on barbiturates and amphetamines
really begins. A coping mechanism that sadly
stuck with her. So 1953. Marilyn Monroe is now
a full -blown phenomenon. Huge box office draw.
That trademark look, the makeup, is locked in
with Alan Whitey Snyder. And the films from that
year really cement the screen persona. Niagara,
hugely sexualized. They even marketed it based
on her walk, that famous hip -swaying walk. There's
that one long shot. Nearly 30 seconds, yeah.
Women's clubs protested it, called it immoral.
Which, of course, just made more people want
to see it. Guaranteed hit. And then Gentlemen
Prefer Blondes and How to Marry a Millionaire.
These are the absolute peak dumb blonde movies.
But watching her, especially in blondes, singing
Diamonds Are a Girl's Best Friend, it doesn't
feel just dumb. There's a wink there. It's almost
parody. It's performing dumbness. Which is actually
incredibly smart. She's playing with the stereotype,
using it, but also kind of undermining it from
within. Like you said, a gender trickster. The
sad part is a lot of people, critics included,
just saw the surface. They missed the act. Which
made it harder for her to get those serious roles
she wanted. Exactly. And in the middle of all
this, December 53, Hugh Hefner uses her image,
those old calendar shots for the very first Playboy.
Cover and centerfold. Without her consent. And
no pay. No consent for that specific use. No
pay. It just shows her image was now public domain,
basically. Making millions for others while she's
still fighting for control herself. And the media
storm just intensifies when she marries Joe DiMaggio.
January 54. Baseball hero, movie goddess, front
page news everywhere. Biggest celebrity wedding
imaginable. But it barely lasted. Nine months.
Why so short? Just a fundamental clash. Her explosive
sexualized fame versus his kind of quiet traditionalism.
Sources say he was deeply uncomfortable with
her image, became intensely jealous, even abusive.
Physically abusive. Indications point that way,
yes. And the tension really peaks right after
the wedding. She goes off to Korea alone. USO
tour. Right, singing for the troops. Over 60
,000 Marines. She felt this incredible direct
connection with her audience, this huge wave
of adoration, something DiMaggio couldn't really
compete with or maybe understand, kind of sealed
the marriage's fate. And the final nail in the
coffin comes, ironically, during the filming
of arguably her most iconic moment, the subway
great scene for The Seven Year Itch. That's 1955.
And remember, she didn't even want to do that
film initially. Fox basically forced her into
it after suspending her for refusing another
movie. The studio head, Daryl Zanuck, apparently
really disliked her personally, wanted to keep
her in that blonde box. So they staged this subway
great scene in Manhattan. Huge publicity stunt.
Thousands of onlookers press flashbulbs going
off like crazy. Her skirt blowing up. An iconic
image is born. But for DiMaggio watching this.
His wife being put on display like that. It was
the last straw. Huge fight back at the hotel.
Explosive. Days later, she files for divorce.
Cites mental cruelty. The image that made her
a global icon simultaneously destroyed her marriage.
The price of fame. But even as Fox's biggest
star, she's still underpaid compared to her box
office power. Still typecast. And this is the
moment she decides enough. The actress becomes
the businesswoman. She needed control. Real control.
And she wasn't going to get it by playing nice.
So after finishing Seven Year Itch late 54, she
doesn't just refuse roles. She leaves Hollywood,
goes to New York. And starts her own company.
Marilyn Monroe Productions. MMP with Milton Green,
the photographer. That must have sent shockwaves
through the studio system. Oh, huge. Sources
call it instrumental in eventually breaking that
old system. Stars locked into those long, restrictive
contracts. Marilyn showed there was another way.
How did she force their hand legally? She essentially
sued Fox, claimed they hadn't fulfilled their
contract by offering her suitable roles, declared
she was tired of the same old sex roles. By forming
MMP, she was saying, I control my projects now,
my directors, my schedule. It set a massive precedent.
If Marilyn could do it. Others would follow.
Brando Newman. Exactly. Demanding more power,
more money. The press mocked her at first, of
course, compared her to Jane Mansfield. But she
was deadly serious. She spent 1955 not making
movies, but educating herself. Right. She enrolled
at the actor's studio, studying method acting
with Lee Strasberg. And Paula Strasberg, his
wife, became her personal coach. And at the same
time, she starts intensive psychoanalysis, which
is key. How do those two things connect? The
acting and the therapy. Well, method acting often
asks you to pull on your own deep emotional memories,
right? Your own pain, to make the performance
authentic. Okay. Now, imagine doing that when
your past is Norma Jean's past. Abandonment,
abuse, dredging that up constantly for your job.
It's incredibly risky, emotionally destructive.
The psychoanalysis wasn't just for healing. It
was almost a tool to access those very feelings
the Strasbergs wanted her to use. Her ambition
and her mental health were in constant conflict.
Wow, that's a dick. It really was. But the corporate...
gamble paid off, Fox needed her back badly. By
the end of 55, they caved. New seven -year contract,
$400 ,000 for four films. And crucially, approval
over projects, directors, even cinematographers.
She'd gone from ward of the state to ward of
the studio to CEO of her own career. So 1956
marks this new era. She legally changes her name
to Marilyn Monroe. Makes it official. Even Time
magazine has to admit she's a shrewd businesswoman.
Recognition. And then another huge personal shift.
She marries Arthur Miller, the playwright. Intellectual
heavyweight. Talk about a PR whirlwind. The press
went nuts. egghead weds hourglass that was the
famous headline yeah i remember that for her
it was clearly another attempt to gain something
she felt she lacked intellectual respectability
maybe a sense of grounding family she even converted
to judaism aligning with miller's background
identified as a jewish atheist interestingly
enough did that conversion have other consequences
i feel like i read something it did internationally
egypt banned all her films saw the conversion
as support for israel shows how even her personal
choices had this global ripple effect wow okay
so her first film under this powerful new contract
is bus stop yeah 1956 and this was her chance
to prove the fight was worth it and she nailed
it deliberately chose a non -glamorous role sheree
the saloon singer adopted an ozark accent insisted
on looking less polished she wanted to act not
just be looked at in a critic they were stunned
blown away the saturday review said her performance
effectively dispels once and for all the notion
that she is merely a glamour personality golden
globe nomination she proved her point she was
a serious actress professional triumph but then
personal difficulty right after her first independent
production through mmp the prince and the showgirl
Co -starring and directed by Laurence Olivier.
Oh, that set was famously tense. Olivier, you
know, Sir Lawrence, the great Shakespearean actor.
He apparently couldn't stand her method approach.
Hated having Paula Strasberg, her coach, on set
all the time. Pure clash of styles. And cultures.
British theatrical royalty versus Hollywood method.
His attitude was reportedly incredibly condescending.
The famous line attributed to him is telling
her, all you have to do is be sexy. Ouch. After
everything she fought for. Devastating for her
and her response. She became difficult, deliberately
late, holding up production. She later said something
like, if you don't respect your artists, they
can't work well. It was partly defense, partly
maybe proving she still had power. Despite all
that friction, she still got a BAFTA nomination
for the performance. This period, though, it
seems like the personal toll was getting heavier.
Miscarriages, health problems. The reliance on
pills increasing. Definitely escalating. Managing
the stress, the insomnia, the physical pain from
conditions like endometriosis. Yet somehow, she
follows this difficult period with one of her
greatest triumphs. Some like it hot, 1959. A
masterpiece. So funny, so smart about gender
roles. Huge hit, critical acclaim, she won a
Golden Globe. But the making of it, legendary
for being difficult. This is where the stories
of her struggles on set really peak. The conflict
between the brilliant performer, and the incredibly
fragile person was just right there on the surface.
The stories are wild. Dozens and dozens of takes
for simple lines. Forgetting dialogue constantly.
They supposedly had pew cards hidden all over
the set. Yeah. And Tony Curtis's infamous quote
about kissing her being like kissing Hitler.
Which sounds awful, but it came from the sheer
frustration of doing scenes over and over and
over. But the performance is magic. How does
that happen? That's the paradox, isn't it? Billy
Wilder, the director, was tearing his hair out,
but he admitted it later. He said something like,
anyone can remember lines, but it takes a real
artist to come on the set and not know her lines
and yet give the performance she did. Her perfectionism,
her insecurity, it somehow fueled the magic on
screen. Agonizing, but brilliant. That internal
struggle really comes to a head with her last
finished film, The Misfits. 1961. Written for
her by Arthur Miller. Yeah, Miller wrote it as
a serious, dramatic showcase for her. A gift,
supposedly. But the production itself became
the backdrop for their marriage completely falling
apart. Miller started an affair during filming
with the set photographer Inge Morath, who he
later married. And Marilyn realized with growing
horror that the character Miller wrote for her,
Rosalyn. It was based on her, but in a really
critical, almost resentful way. She felt the
male roles, Gables and Cliffs, were written with
much more depth and sympathy. That must have
felt like such a betrayal. Profound betrayal.
On top of that, the shoot itself was brutal Nevada
desert heat. Her health was terrible gallstones,
the endometriosis flared up, and her drug use,
it was out of control. Sources say her makeup
sometimes had to be applied while she was basically
still asleep, semi -conscious from the drug.
Just functioning must have been agony. At one
point, production had to stop for a week while
she went into detox. Just to get her well enough
to finish, it's heartbreaking. But again, the
performance. Critics now see it as maybe her
deepest, her most mature interpretation. She
poured all that pain, all the Norma Jean trauma
directly into Rosalyn, achieved this raw authenticity,
but at the cost of her own well -being. And it's
just so tragically fitting that The Misfits was
the last film for both her and Clark Gable. Her
divorce from Miller was finalized right after
January 61. So after the divorce, 1961 is just
rough. More health problems, surgeries, treatment
for depression. And there was that really scary
incident where she checked herself in for psychiatric
help. Right, but ended up mistakenly placed in
a high security ward. for patients with severe
psychosis. That must have been terrifying for
her. Echoes of her mother's institutionalization,
the orphanage. Exactly. Deep -seated fears. Thankfully,
Joe DiMaggio, they had reconnected, formed this
kind of supportive friendship. He stepped in
immediately, got her transferred somewhere appropriate.
It shows, despite everything, he was still protective
of her in some fundamental way. She needed that
support because she went right back to work.
Started filming Something's Gotta Give for Fox
in early 62. But it was plagued with problems
from the start. Yeah, she got sinusitis, missed
days. But the timing for Fox was just awful.
They were hemorrhaging money on Elizabeth Taylor's
Cleopatra. That film's budget was spiraling out
of control. So they had no patience for delays
on Marilyn's film. None. They needed a hit and
they needed it on schedule. They started putting
pressure on her publicly, implying she was faking
illnesses. The relationship got really antagonistic.
And then comes the breaking point. May 1962.
She takes an unapproved leave from the set. To
go sing at Madison Square Garden for President
Kennedy's birthday gala. The happy birthday Mr.
President moment wearing that dress. The sheer
rhinestone covered dress basically looked nude
under the spotlights. It was this huge defiant
reclaiming of her star power, her sexuality on
a national stage. But for Fox, already furious,
it was the last straw. Utterly unprofessional
in their eyes. Did the affair rumors with JFK
play into Fox's reaction? The rumors were flying,
certainly, though most reliable sources suggest
the relationship was fairly casual, not some
grand love affair. But the public spectacle of
her singing so intimately to the president while
absent from their set, that was unforgivable
to the studio bosses. So Fox fires her June 62
and sues her for $750 ,000. Yep. replaced her
with Lee Remick. But then another twist showing
Marilyn's power even when fired. Dean Martin,
her co -star, refused to make the film with anyone
else. Really? Pulled out, which basically shut
down production. Fox was stuck. They realized
pretty quickly they'd made a huge mistake. The
film was probably worthless without Monroe. So
they started negotiating to get her back. Exactly.
In the final weeks of her life, it seemed she
was gearing up for a comeback, doing interviews,
planning projects. She did that famous photo
session with Burt Stern, the one called The Last
Sitting, trying to control her image again, maybe
on her own terms. But she never got the chance.
August 4th, 1962. She dies at home. She was only
36. Found by her psychiatrist, Ralph Greenson,
and her housekeeper, Eunice Murray, the coroner's
report was clear. Acute barbiturate poisoning.
Lethal levels way over the limit found in her
system. And the official cause of death. Probable
suicide. The deputy coroner, Thomas Noguchi,
cited her history of depression, previous overdoses.
It fit a pattern, sadly. The impact was just
immediate. Huge shockwaves. Didn't the suicide
rate in L .A. spike that month? Reportedly doubled,
yeah. Her death felt personal to so many people.
The funeral was small, intensely private, arranged
by DiMaggio. He famously barred most of the Hollywood
bigwigs, blamed them, the industry, for her death.
Of course, the conspiracy theory started almost
immediately. Murder? Accidental overdose? Oh,
endlessly. They persist even today. But it's
important to mention, in 1982, the L .A. District
Attorney did a thorough review, a threshold investigation,
precisely because of those theories. And they
found? No evidence of foul play. None whatsoever.
Their conclusion upheld the original finding,
probable suicide. Okay, let's step back and look
at the legacy. That image. It was so perfectly
crafted for its time, wasn't it? Post -war America,
the male gaze. A softer kind of sexuality compared
to the tough dames of the 40s. Deliberately constructed.
But as we've discussed, that dumb blonde thing
was the ultimate performance. She was anything
but dumb. Very smart indeed. Very tough, as biographers
say. Smart enough to beat the studio system at
its own game. Using the stereotype against itself,
that gender trickster idea. Right, and you see
her wit in those little deflections, the Monroe
-isms. Like, when asked what she wore to bed,
I had the radio on. Classic. Completely sidesteps
the question with humor. Exactly. She just embodied
the era in so many ways. Post -war optimism,
sex seeming somehow natural and innocent, consumer
culture, that populist glamour. It makes sense
she's on the Smithsonian's list of the hundred
most significant Americans. And the image just
endures. It keeps getting reinterpreted. Warhol,
Madonna. academics study her through lenses of
feminism, media, fame. She's called the eternal
shapeshifter. Each generation kind of remakes
her in their own image, finds something relevant.
It's that tension, isn't it? Between the vulnerable
Norma Jean and the powerful creation Marilyn
Monroe. That's what keeps us fascinated. Hashtag
tag tag outro. So when you pull it all together,
what we've seen today is, well, Marilyn Monroe
was this master of creating herself, a really
dedicated actress who fought for and earned critical
respect and a truly strategic businesswoman who
actually helped change how Hollywood worked.
It was a constant calculated battle against the
system and maybe against her own past. Yeah,
absolutely. And that leaves us with something
to really chew on, doesn't it? A final thought
for you, the listener. Think about this. Norma
Jean had to invent Marilyn Monroe, this larger
-than -life, untouchable, sexualized persona,
just to survive her own grim beginnings and the
pressures of Hollywood. She fought tooth and
nail to gain control over that image, and she
largely succeeded. So what does it tell us about
fame, about image, about us, maybe? That her
biggest, most tragic fight was trying to get
the world and maybe... herself sometimes to see
past the character to believe in the complex
ambitious intelligent actress underneath the
blonde hair and the whispery voice she created