golden cage and forced to lay golden eggs for them all to enjoy. Arthur was the wicked king who kept her locked up in his castle. Milton was the magician who made sure she did what she was told. Paula was the corrupt courtier who poured endless soothing words into her ears, to fool her into thinking that she was
really the one with the power. The rest of us â including Olivier, although he didnât realise it â were just part of the scenery. All the trappings of being a great star were a total sham â literally, in the case of this film, nothing but a façade. Now the princess had tried to tell the world she was a prisoner. That was the real message Marilyn wanted to give me. And, naturally, that was exactly what all those greedy men did not want anyone to find out. No wonder Milton had tried so hard to warn me off.
I wanted desperately to save her, but what could I do? I couldnât tell the police. I couldnât tell a newspaper. No showbiz journalist would want to believe me â and anyway, they were all in on the plot. They were much too frightened of the establishment to rock the boat. Marilyn was like a prize cow, to be shipped from show to show, primped and polished and prodded while the audiences jeered and cheered. If she took one tiny step of independence, the sky would fall in. âShe is a dangerous, manipulative woman,â they would say, like Tony. âYou canât trust her an inch.â
Olivier was still in his dressing room when Milton left, and in desperation I decided to try to discuss the problem with him. Olivier is a human being, I thought, a wonderful, loyal and sensible man. Perhaps if I explained the matter properly . . .
âForget it, Colin,â he said before I could even speak. âThis thing is bigger than all of us. Thatâs why I hate Hollywood so much. The studios there are so powerful that everyone is scared. Itâs just a great big money-making machine. They call it a dream factory. It is a factory; but not about dreams, just about money. Power, sex, glamour â those things just dazzle the public and conceal the truth. And girls like Marilyn are trying to exploit it, just as it is exploiting them. Itâs a war. No quarter given on either side. Believe me, you have to be pretty tough to get one tenth of the distance Marilyn has got. Now she has become the most famous star of them all. She took on the Hollywood bosses, and with Miltonâs help, she won quite a victory. For a while she even thought she was free. But who really controls her? MCA, the biggest Hollywood agency. Who pays for
this film? Warner Brothers. Who does she still have a contract with? Twentieth Century-Fox. She just canât work without Hollywoodâs help and Hollywoodâs approval. Of course sheâd like to have you as a chum, but itâs too late for that. There are no chums in Hollywood. Just thank God that it isnât like that over here yet. Now go home to dinner with Tony and Anne. They are genuinely fond of you, you know.â
âThanks, Larry,â I said, and went home with a heavy heart.
SATURDAY, 15 SEPTEMBER
It was an absolutely glorious summer morning, and for once I did not have to get up at six a.m. to go to the studio. When I finally came downstairs, Anne Bushell was in the kitchen preparing lunch. She watched dubiously as I helped myself to cornflakes and milk.
âTony tells me youâve had quite an exciting week,â she said finally.
âItâs been blown up out of all proportion,â I said. âDo you really think itâs such a dreadful sin to make friends with Marilyn? She doesnât have many friends, and Arthurâs gone away and sheâs lonely.â
âThatâs where the danger lies, I suppose, Colin. You do have a bit of a reputation for chasing the ladies. Didnât I hear Tony talking about a girl in the wardrobe department? And some ballerina in London?â
âOh, Anne,
really the one with the power. The rest of us â including Olivier, although he didnât realise it â were just part of the scenery. All the trappings of being a great star were a total sham â literally, in the case of this film, nothing but a façade. Now the princess had tried to tell the world she was a prisoner. That was the real message Marilyn wanted to give me. And, naturally, that was exactly what all those greedy men did not want anyone to find out. No wonder Milton had tried so hard to warn me off.
I wanted desperately to save her, but what could I do? I couldnât tell the police. I couldnât tell a newspaper. No showbiz journalist would want to believe me â and anyway, they were all in on the plot. They were much too frightened of the establishment to rock the boat. Marilyn was like a prize cow, to be shipped from show to show, primped and polished and prodded while the audiences jeered and cheered. If she took one tiny step of independence, the sky would fall in. âShe is a dangerous, manipulative woman,â they would say, like Tony. âYou canât trust her an inch.â
Olivier was still in his dressing room when Milton left, and in desperation I decided to try to discuss the problem with him. Olivier is a human being, I thought, a wonderful, loyal and sensible man. Perhaps if I explained the matter properly . . .
âForget it, Colin,â he said before I could even speak. âThis thing is bigger than all of us. Thatâs why I hate Hollywood so much. The studios there are so powerful that everyone is scared. Itâs just a great big money-making machine. They call it a dream factory. It is a factory; but not about dreams, just about money. Power, sex, glamour â those things just dazzle the public and conceal the truth. And girls like Marilyn are trying to exploit it, just as it is exploiting them. Itâs a war. No quarter given on either side. Believe me, you have to be pretty tough to get one tenth of the distance Marilyn has got. Now she has become the most famous star of them all. She took on the Hollywood bosses, and with Miltonâs help, she won quite a victory. For a while she even thought she was free. But who really controls her? MCA, the biggest Hollywood agency. Who pays for
this film? Warner Brothers. Who does she still have a contract with? Twentieth Century-Fox. She just canât work without Hollywoodâs help and Hollywoodâs approval. Of course sheâd like to have you as a chum, but itâs too late for that. There are no chums in Hollywood. Just thank God that it isnât like that over here yet. Now go home to dinner with Tony and Anne. They are genuinely fond of you, you know.â
âThanks, Larry,â I said, and went home with a heavy heart.
SATURDAY, 15 SEPTEMBER
It was an absolutely glorious summer morning, and for once I did not have to get up at six a.m. to go to the studio. When I finally came downstairs, Anne Bushell was in the kitchen preparing lunch. She watched dubiously as I helped myself to cornflakes and milk.
âTony tells me youâve had quite an exciting week,â she said finally.
âItâs been blown up out of all proportion,â I said. âDo you really think itâs such a dreadful sin to make friends with Marilyn? She doesnât have many friends, and Arthurâs gone away and sheâs lonely.â
âThatâs where the danger lies, I suppose, Colin. You do have a bit of a reputation for chasing the ladies. Didnât I hear Tony talking about a girl in the wardrobe department? And some ballerina in London?â
âOh, Anne,
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