Marilyn Monroe has the enduring persona that makes everyone want to know something about her. The film "Blonde" has enough glitz, once one has started to watch, to make one keep watching hoping for something pleasant, inspiring, entertaining or informative to come out if it. It doesn't.
The director claims (or defends himself by claiming) that it is "all fiction". Indeed, it was based on a work of fiction, a novel by Joyce Carol Oates of the same name. Yet it names Marilyn Monroe as its central character, the screen name used by Norma Jean and who, under whatever name, was not a work of fiction. It uses the most horrific events (or supposed events) from that person's existence more or less to suggest "this was the sum total of Marilyn Monroe's life".
There is no let up. Apart from a few brief moments of beauty in Arthur Miller's garden, it is a concatenation of misery. There is enough factual detail to make it 'authentic' - in the most tabloid-declamatory way, casually seasoned with large helpings of unerotic gratuitous nudity and constant close-ups - normally used in made-for-TV films - so that one doesn't miss expressions to which long shots would have given contextual clarity on a bigger screen - unsurprisingly as it is destined for the Netflix market.
There is one problem here. Marilyn Monroe was a superstar like no other. One of the most famous actresses of showbiz mythology. An icon that has never been replicated. The film shows only the sleaze. Even the famous and artistically beautiful shot of the white dress blowing up from Some Like it Hot, one of the most enduring images of the 20th century, is quickly reviled as it cuts to Joe DiMaggio beating her up for her 'lack of propriety'.
Most of the trauma in the personal life of Marilyn Monroe is on record. Any that isn't or not very well documented is gleefully extrapolated by director Andrew Dominik as if competing for the audience of the lowest, sleaziest tabloid. "Blonde" is akin to almost three hours of character assassination, as if it were all this great star stood for: the shameful atrocities inflicted upon her. Fortunately Marilyn Monroe is and was greater than that, and will endure longer than Andrew Dominik's shameful, 'fictional' biopic.
The director claims (or defends himself by claiming) that it is "all fiction". Indeed, it was based on a work of fiction, a novel by Joyce Carol Oates of the same name. Yet it names Marilyn Monroe as its central character, the screen name used by Norma Jean and who, under whatever name, was not a work of fiction. It uses the most horrific events (or supposed events) from that person's existence more or less to suggest "this was the sum total of Marilyn Monroe's life".
There is no let up. Apart from a few brief moments of beauty in Arthur Miller's garden, it is a concatenation of misery. There is enough factual detail to make it 'authentic' - in the most tabloid-declamatory way, casually seasoned with large helpings of unerotic gratuitous nudity and constant close-ups - normally used in made-for-TV films - so that one doesn't miss expressions to which long shots would have given contextual clarity on a bigger screen - unsurprisingly as it is destined for the Netflix market.
There is one problem here. Marilyn Monroe was a superstar like no other. One of the most famous actresses of showbiz mythology. An icon that has never been replicated. The film shows only the sleaze. Even the famous and artistically beautiful shot of the white dress blowing up from Some Like it Hot, one of the most enduring images of the 20th century, is quickly reviled as it cuts to Joe DiMaggio beating her up for her 'lack of propriety'.
Most of the trauma in the personal life of Marilyn Monroe is on record. Any that isn't or not very well documented is gleefully extrapolated by director Andrew Dominik as if competing for the audience of the lowest, sleaziest tabloid. "Blonde" is akin to almost three hours of character assassination, as if it were all this great star stood for: the shameful atrocities inflicted upon her. Fortunately Marilyn Monroe is and was greater than that, and will endure longer than Andrew Dominik's shameful, 'fictional' biopic.