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Marilyn Monroe at 100: why the blonde bombshell was so much more than a sex symbol
The heart-shaped face. The iridescent blonde hair. And who can forget that billowing white dress? Image was key to Marilyn Monroe’s meteoric rise but, as Lucy Bolton explains on the star’s centenary, her success was only possible because of raw talent, ambition and a ferocious work ethic
Published: June 1, 2026 at 12:01 AM
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On a busy set in Pinewood Studios, tension was building. Filming of the 1957 romantic comedy The Prince and the Showgirl had been stressful from the start, with director Sir Laurence Olivier scathing of star Marilyn Monroe’s acting and perceived lack of professionalism. Finally, frustrated by her seeming inability to understand her character’s motivation in one pivotal scene, he shouted: “Will you just try to be sexy? Isn’t that what you do?”
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Olivier’s dismissal of Monroe’s acting craft cut her deep, and she never forgot it. The irony is that she had chosen him as the director for this project – she was his boss. Monroe was desperate to escape the ditzy blonde roles she was being given by the Hollywood studios, and keen to play more substantial dramatic parts.
The Prince and the Showgirl was her first role after establishing her own company, Marilyn Monroe Productions, Inc. Desperate to be regarded as a serious actress, she found herself being undermined by the most respected Shakespearean actor of his day. Yet, despite his indisputable skill on the stage, Olivier himself could not deliver a convincing film performance. (Another esteemed co-star, Dame Sybil Thorndike, proclaimed that “[Monroe] is the only one of us who really knows how to act in front of a camera.”) Olivier was out of his depth – and Monroe felt the force of his angry reaction.
Across her career, Monroe was frequently dismissed as stupid, both on screen and off it. In Some Like it Hot (1959), her character, Sugar Cane, taps her head and says: “See what I mean? Not very bright!” Yet, according to people who knew her well,
that was far from the truth. Director Billy Wilder, who had needed Monroe’s star wattage to get that film off the ground, described her as “an absolute genius as a comedic actress”. And her friend and roommate, actress Shelley Winters, observed that Monroe would have been happier if she had been more stupid.
Monroe as a musician and singer in Some Like it Hot. It took her star wattage to get Billy Wilder’s 1959 smash hit made (Image by Getty Images)
It is often assumed, rather simplistically, that beautiful women have the natural attributes required to be a film star: faces and figures that the camera loves. This fails to acknowledge the hard yards aspiring actors have to put in before their careers take off – if they ever do. Marilyn Monroe was one of those aspiring young actors whose dazzling later success eclipsed the unexceptional beginnings to her career.
Actress Shelley Winters observed that Monroe would have been happier if she had been more stupid
Troubled childhood
Born Norma Jeane Mortensen on 1 June 1926, Monroe was raised to love the movies by her mother, who worked as a negative cutter, part of the film-editing process. Obsessed from an early age with Jean Harlow, Hollywood’s original ‘blonde bombshell’, Norma Jeane yearned for a career in film. Sadly, her mother suffered with severe mental illness, and Norma Jeane endured a tumultuous childhood. At the age of just 16, she married the boy next door, James Dougherty, to escape that chaotic life.
Norma Jeane with her first husband, James Dougherty – a neighbour whom she married in 1942, just after her 16th birthday, to avoid being sent to an orphanage (Image by Getty Images)
During the Second World War, while her husband was away serving in the South Pacific, she worked in a factory. A photographer who came to shoot pictures of the workers for a morale-boosting campaign spotted her photogenic appeal, and in 1945 she began modelling.
While he was away, her husband was happy for her to work, but asked her to stop on his return. Instead, she signed a contract with the Blue Book Modelling Agency, soon becoming a pin-up, and divorced Dougherty. Dying her hair blonde, she took aim at the movies and in 1946 was signed by Twentieth Century-Fox. Talent scout Ben Lyon said that she reminded him of actress Marilyn Miller; adding her mother’s maiden name, Monroe, her screen persona was born.
- Read more | Marilyn Monroe: glamour, guts and misery
Her initial Fox contract was for only six months, but Monroe took this opportunity to absorb everything she could about the business, as well as taking lessons in acting, singing and dancing. Her contract was renewed, and she was offered small film roles. Then came a setback: she was dropped by Fox because her acting coaches considered her too shy and nervous to progress.
Undeterred, she returned to modelling and took small acting jobs, while continuing her drama studies. In 1948, she was signed by Columbia Pictures and made Ladies of the Chorus – but her contract wasn’t renewed. Now living hand to mouth, she posed for nude photographs used in the famous ‘Golden Dreams’ calendars – images that would return to haunt her a couple of years later. She also began a relationship with Johnny Hyde, vice-president of the William Morris Agency, who significantly boosted her film career – and also fell deeply in love with her.
A publicity shot from a 1947 portrait session for Twentieth Century-Fox, the studio for whom Norma Jeane Mortensen had signed the year before, and where she became Marilyn Monroe (Image by Getty Images)
Two films Monroe made while represented by Hyde were notable steps up in quality. As Miss Casswell in All About Eve and Angela in The Asphalt Jungle (both 1950), working with the likes of Bette Davis, John Huston and Joseph L Mankiewicz, Monroe not only held her own but was able to demonstrate her ambition and talent, albeit in relatively small roles. “I knew she was going to make it,” said Davis. “She was a very ambitious girl: she knew what she wanted and was very serious about it.”
That year, Monroe signed a seven-year contract with Fox and commenced a sequence of decent performances in respected films. She became popular with audiences and critics, winning the Photoplay award for Fastest Rising Star, and the Look award for Most Promising Female Newcomer. Then, in 1952, those ‘Golden Dreams’ photos re-emerged. Rather than express shame, Monroe explained she’d had to take on such jobs simply to eat and pay her rent. Showing wit that endeared her to audiences even more, she added that the photographer, Tom Kelley, had not captured her best side. Monroe knew how to relate to audiences: she was never haughty or superior, but grateful for attention and always good-humoured.
Monroe pictured on the set of All About Eve (1950), one of two roles that year in high-calibre films that boosted her profile in Hollywood (Image by Getty Images)
Monroe worked with acting coaches Natasha Lytess and Michael Chekhov, and soaked up all the information she could from film crews and sets. Her roles in Clash by Night and Don’t Bother to Knock (both 1952) were far from glamorous – a local girl who worked at a fish-canning factory, and a murderous babysitter – but she was showing her emotional and physical range. By the end of that year, Monroe had built up a strong body of work.
In 1953, she became a star. As Rose Loomis in the film noir Niagara – filmed in three-strip technicolour – Monroe, playing an irresistible femme fatale, is a stunning sight to behold. Her now-iconic look was co-created for this movie by make-up artist Whitey Snyder, who accentuated her heart-shaped face and wide-set eyes, and used five shades of red lipstick and liner to achieve the desired mouth.
In a scene that sparked controversy at the time, Niagara also showcased the ‘Monroe wiggle’. In a 27-second shot, she walks away from the camera towards the titular waterfalls, wearing a tight-fitting outfit accentuating her hourglass shape – ensuring she is the sole focus of attention for the camera, the other characters and the audience.
Monroe with her acting coach, Natasha Lytess, in 1949. The actor was dedicated to her craft, studying under luminaries including Lee Strasberg (Image by Shutterstock)
Shaping an image
Monroe’s commitment to attaining the face and body she wanted reflects her deliberate strategy for shaping her image. That persona – the popular, sexy bombshell – was very much a construct and, at this stage in her career, a strong indication of her determination to achieve movie success.
In her next film, Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, playing Lorelei Lee, Monroe gave one of her most famous and influential performances. In it she sings the iconic tune ‘Diamonds are a Girl’s Best Friend’, one of the most revisited show numbers from Hollywood musicals. Later emulated by stars ranging from Madonna and Lady Gaga to Ryan Gosling and Kate Moss, Monroe’s look and moves have been imitated but never matched.
Monroe and co-star Jane Russell got along famously, and had a great time on the shoot – but the former was, unsurprisingly, annoyed to discover that she was earning a lot less than Russell. She didn’t even have her own dressing room. When studio executives explained that she was not the star, Monroe retorted: “After all, I am the blonde and it is Gentlemen Prefer Blondes!”
Money was an ongoing issue for Monroe in those years. Because she was still subject to the terms of the Fox contract, she typically received a smaller pay cheque than her co-stars – despite her burgeoning status as a hugely bankable name (and face) drawing audiences to those movies.
Monroe with Lauren Bacall and Betty Grable, her co-stars in How to Marry a Millionaire (1953). Grable told the younger actor: “Honey, I’ve had mine – now go get yours” (Image by Getty Images)
For How to Marry a Millionaire (1953), Monroe was paid markedly less than co-stars Lauren Bacall and Betty Grable: about $16,000, compared with $55,000 for Bacall and $200,000 for Grable, then considered the blonde actress at Twentieth Century-Fox. But Monroe’s star was in the ascendant, and that restrictive contract soon ended. She effectively replaced the retiring Grable, who famously told Monroe: “Honey, I’ve had mine – now go get yours.”
Monroe typically received a smaller pay cheque than her co-stars – despite her burgeoning status as a hugely bankable name
Monroe maintained good friendships formed during these positive filming experiences. But her next movie, River of No Return (1954), proved a less happy affair. The shoot was marred for Monroe by a difficult relationship with bullying director Otto Preminger, a badly twisted ankle and an unfulfilling role as a singing saloon girl. It augured her departure from La La Land.
The next film she was offered, The Girl in Pink Tights, would involve another ‘dumb blonde’ role and a co-star – Frank Sinatra – who was going to be paid a great deal more than her. So she wrote to Fox studio head Darryl F Zanuck: “Am exceedingly sorry but I do not like it.” Monroe was briefly suspended by the studio. That month, January 1954, she married baseball star Joe DiMaggio – nearly 12 years her senior.
Taking control
It was a tumultuous marriage. DiMaggio was unhappy about the attention his wife received, and his jealousy of Monroe’s popularity and exhibitionism came to a head when he witnessed the shooting of the white dress scene for The Seven Year Itch. Monroe had no inclination to settle down to be the housewife DiMaggio wanted her to be. Instead, after nine months she divorced him and took control of her career.
On 31 December 1954, she set up Marilyn Monroe Productions Inc. with her photographer friend Milton Greene. She also moved to New York, leaving Hollywood and fame far behind. There she took lessons at the Actors Studio under Lee Strasberg, famous for his ‘Method Acting’ technique, who considered her both a luminous natural talent and a painfully insecure woman.
This period in New York was a time of reinvention. Monroe announced that she didn’t “want to play sex roles any more”, and would rather perform in The Brothers Karamazov. During this time, photographer Ed Feingersh took some of the most atmospheric, candid and beautiful photos of Monroe. He captured her as she sat in restaurants, rode the subway and got ready for engagements in her hotel room, applying Chanel No 5. These were published in the magazine Redbook under the headline: ‘The Marilyn Monroe you’ve never seen’. Monroe was asserting her independence from the studio system, and pushing her claim to be a star with real talent, not merely an empty-headed blonde sex bomb.
Monroe is captured in a relaxed moment in New York by photographer Ed Feingersh in 1955, during a period of reinvention (Image by Getty Images)
In June 1955, Fox released The Seven Year Itch. It quickly proved to be more than an overwhelming commercial success: it was a cultural moment. The scene in which Marilyn Monroe’s pleated white skirt billows up around her hips became iconic, and her star status was confirmed.
Twentieth Century-Fox caved in to all her demands, and she signed a new contract committing to make four films over the next seven years. It gave her director and cinematographer approval, plus the freedom to pursue projects with her own production company. This was a groundbreaking rebellion in terms of Hollywood star power. Monroe was one of the very first women to break away on these terms, and to successfully challenge studio exploitation.
In the 10 years since she had signed with Blue Book Modelling Agency, Monroe had built a career that enabled her to acquire the rights to Terence Rattigan’s play The Sleeping Prince and to announce her intentions to film an adaptation. She cast herself in the lead role of Elsie Marina, with Sir Laurence Olivier her choice of leading man and director. Meanwhile, in June 1956, Monroe had married America’s leading playwright, the intellectual and political heavyweight Arthur Miller. Her reinvention was complete.
Another photo by Ed Feingersh shows Monroe on the roof of the Ambassador Hotel, New York in 1955. Her success in The Seven Year Itch that year enabled her to bargain with Twentieth Century-Fox (Image by Getty Images)
Disappointments and betrayals
After these major successes and steps, though, several factors combined to detract from Monroe’s stability and ability to live up to the high standards she set herself. Disappointments and betrayals in her marriage to Miller took a toll. She was hurt deeply when she discovered and read Miller’s notebook, in which he described how Monroe embarrassed him, and the couple suffered more than one miscarried pregnancy.
Her focus and professionalism were also compromised by ongoing problems with excessive medication for severe anxiety, depression and insomnia, her addiction to a concoction of drugs and champagne, and chronic mental and physical health issues that led to periods of hospitalisation.
Her relationships with men, too, were high profile and disheartening. Her last two completed films blended personal and professional lives in destructive ways. Let’s Make Love (1960), co-written by Miller, was not a commercial success, and Monroe had
a brief and destructive affair with French-Italian co-star Yves Montand, who was married to Simone Signoret. Her next film, The Misfits (1961), was a traumatic experience for all involved. Miller had written this apparent ‘Valentine’ to his sensitive, troubled wife to provide her with the type of dramatic role she craved. Instead it exposed her vulnerabilities and took her to a place of illness and distress. Her addictions exacerbated, she was hospitalised for exhaustion. Clark Gable, one of the film’s male stars, died 12 days after shooting wrapped. Miller and Monroe divorced before the film’s premiere. It was not a commercial hit.
Monroe stars in Let’s Make Love (1960) with Yves Montand – who became her lover during the shoot (Image by Alamy)
Despite her devastation at Gable’s death and the end of her marriage, Monroe seemed set for a relaunch. She received medical treatment for mental and physical health problems, and returned to Los Angeles. There she purchased her first property and hunted for furniture and tiles, ready to settle and achieve some peace on her own terms.
She entered negotiations with Twentieth Century-Fox about her last contracted movie with them, and signed on to play the lead in Something’s Got to Give, directed by George Cukor and co-starring Dean Martin. Over the next few months, though, Monroe’s health deteriorated, and her repeated absences from the set enraged Fox executives. She had flown to New York to sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to President JF Kennedy – with whom she reputedly had a brief affair – against the studio’s wishes. She was certainly committed to bolstering her star power and the movie’s success: footage shot of Monroe swimming in a pool by night, apparently naked, was arranged because she said she wanted to knock Elizabeth Taylor off the front pages. But she was too frequently absent, and Fox sacked her from the film.
Operation relaunch
That moment – with Monroe at rock bottom – is where the story stops in many tellings. In fact, her situation improved. Negotiations with Fox resumed, and she was re-hired to complete the picture for $250,000. She embarked on a public relations campaign, giving interviews and photo shoots to Vogue, Cosmopolitan and Life magazines, and was in discussions with Playboy for a cover story.
In her final interview, published in Life shortly before her death, she revealed that: “I’ve always felt toward the slightest scene, even if all I had to do in a scene was just to come in and say ‘Hi’, that the people ought to get their money’s worth and that this is an obligation of mine, to give them the best you can get from me.” This commitment to her public, whom she always credited with making her a star, endured to her last days.
Monroe would not let anybody – husband, lover, studio head or psychiatrist – thwart her acting ambitions
She died late at night on 4 August 1962, aged just 36, from acute barbiturate poisoning. Despite persistent conjecture about her death – classified as a probable suicide – we should look beyond the salacious details to consider Monroe’s legacy. First, she left a body of work that remains greatly loved, and which showcases her abilities and surprising range as an actor. A towering icon of Hollywood stardom, her looks epitomise glamour, and her performances are redolent of a long-past era of style and allure.
During the filming of Something’s Got to Give in 1962, Monroe’s absenteeism saw her fired from the shoot of her last, unfinished film (Image by Getty Images)
Filmmakers and storytellers continue to create biographical vignettes stuffed with clichés that perpetuate the narrative of Monroe as tragic victim. That is not an adequate picture of any life, let alone that of a woman who built a career in the toughest of environments at a time when domesticity, motherhood and contented wifehood were the best most could expect.
Marilyn Monroe would not let anybody – husband, lover, studio head or psychiatrist – thwart her ambitions. She was a gifted actor with an emotional honesty that lit up the screen in films that have stood the test of time. Her knowing, intelligent characterisations continue to set a benchmark for unselfconscious performance and authentic commitment to the craft of acting.
Lucy Bolton is professor of film philosophy at Queen Mary University of London. She is the editor of The Feminist Film Philosophy Reader, published by Bloomsbury Academic in June
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This article was first published in the June 2026 issue of HistoryExtra Magazine
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