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Blonde Full Movie |
Blonde is Absolutely the best Marilyn movie!
So for months reading the reviews and there are a lot of press reviewers who have this movie as "less than stellar" ratings. Have the lol review!
"Blonde" abuses and exploits Marilyn Monroe in the same way that so many men did during the tragic, all-too-brief life of the cultural icon. Maybe that's the point, but it creates a perplexing paradox: condemning the cruelty the superstar endured until her death at 36 while also reveling in it.
Despite this, writer/director Andrew Dominik's film, based on Joyce Carol Oates' fictional novel of the same name, remains technically flawless throughout, despite being nearly three hours long. Another conundrum is the craftsmanship on display: "Blonde" is riveting, even mesmerizing, but eventually you'll want to turn your gaze away as this lurid display becomes just too much.
My personal breaking point was a POV shot from inside Marilyn's vagina as she was being forced to have an abortion. A lengthy, extreme close-up of a drugged-up Monroe fallingating President Kennedy while on the phone in a hotel room also feels gratuitous, which is likely why the film received the rare NC-17 rating.
Did any of this actually occur? Maybe. Perhaps not. What you must understand right away is that "Blonde" is an exploration of the Marilyn Monroe concept. It's a biopic of the actor in the same way that "Elvis" is a biopic of Elvis Presley. It serves as a road map for a series of actual, factual events ranging from her films to her marriages.
But, in the end, it's a fantasy of fame that turns into a hellscape. That's more exciting than the typical biography, which plays the greatest hits of a celebrity's life in a formulaic manner, and "Blonde" is consistently inventive as it experiments with tone and form. This approach, however, feels overwhelming and even a little dreary by the end.
Ana de Armas is asked to cry as Marilyn Monroe (or Norma Jeane, as she is known in the film). A lot. Sometimes she sheds a light tear as she recalls her traumatic childhood for an acting class exercise. The cumulative weight of mental illness and addiction usually results in heaving sobs.
She's naked when she's not crying. She's frequently both, as well as bloody. And in almost every situation, she is either a pawn or a victim, a frail angel in search of a father figure to love and protect her.
Some of this is true, such as how Hollywood power brokers saw her as a pretty face and a great ass when she wanted them to see her as a serious actress with a good soul.
De Armas gives it her all in every scene; she's so captivating, so startling, that you wish the role would allow her to show more of Marilyn's depth, to go deeper than the familiar cliches. Her breathy, girlish voice isn't perfect—traces of her Cuban accent are unmistakable—but that's fine given the film's unconventional approach. More importantly, she captures Monroe's spirit and frequently resembles her.
Following standout supporting roles in films such as "Knives Out" and "No Time to Die," as well as the delicious trash that was "Deep Water," she finally gets the meaty, leading role that showcases everything she can do. She's so good that you wish the role was on par with her.
From the start, "Blonde" is a fever dream. Dominik sets the scene with impressionistic wisps of sight and sound, working with cinematographer Chayse Irivn ("BlacKkKlansman," Beyonce's "Lemonade") and frequent musical collaborators Nick Cave and Warren Ellis.
Shadows and ethereal snippets of score blend with ash blowing through the night sky from a fire in the Hollywood Hills. The phone rings repeatedly. The camera moves to the left. We are immediately tense. It's 1933 in Los Angeles, and Norma Jeane (a poised and heartbreaking Lily Fisher) is suffering from horrific physical and emotional abuse at the hands of her volatile and hyperverbal mother (a haunting Julianne Nicholson, always great).
Dominik ("The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford") declares his restless style from the start, jumping from high-contrast black and white to rich Technicolor and in between various aspect ratios. The color palette is sometimes faded, as if we're looking at Marilyn in an old photograph.
The sound design is sometimes muted to indicate her inner state of confusion, as in her classic performance of "I Wanna Be Loved by You" from "Some Like It Hot." For a while, it's thrilling, and de Armas is a captivating figure as the young Marilyn, in both her vulnerability and her ambition.
A fictitious three-way romance involving Charlie Chaplin Jr. (Xavier Samuel) and Edward G. Robinson Jr. (Evan Williams) adds a welcome sense of levity; they're both beautiful and flirtatious, smoldering and seductive. As the film progresses, it becomes clear that they are the only men who loved her for her true self as Norma Jeane while also appreciating Marilyn's beguiling artifice.
"There she is, your magic friend," "Cass" Chaplin purrs as he caresses her from behind. And Dominik will return to the image of Norma Jeane pleading with her own reflection for strength. The character's stark duality allows de Armas to showcase her impressive range and precise technique.
However, far too much of "Blonde" is about men chewing Marilyn up and spitting her out. When she visits his office about a part, a studio executive known only as "Mr. Z"—presumably as in Zanuck—rapes her.
Joe DiMaggio (Bobby Cannavale) of the New York Yankees appears to be a decent and tender husband until he becomes controlling and violent. Her next husband, playwright Arthur Miller (an understated Adrien Brody), is patient and kind while remaining emotionally detached—but by the time Marilyn marries him, anxiety, booze, and pills have wrecked her so badly that no one could have helped her.
She addresses these men as "Daddy" in the hopes that they will fill the role of the father she never knew but desperately desired, but in the end, everyone fails her. And so does "Blonde," which strands de Armas in a third-act sea of hysteria.
One wonders what the point of the film's many graphic moments are, including one from the perspective of an airplane toilet, as if Marilyn is puking up pills and champagne directly on us. Just to shock? To demonstrate how much the Hollywood machine commodified her? That is not new.
The gentler interludes of "Blonde" are actually more powerful—for example, when Marilyn and Arthur Miller are teasingly chasing each other on the beach, hugging and kissing in the golden, shimmering sunlight. "Am I your good girl, Daddy?" she sweetly inquires, seeking his approval. But, of course, she can't be happy here. Because we know how this story ends, all of her happy times are tinged with sadness.
More often than not, Dominik appears to be drawn to scenes like the garish slow-motion premiere of "Some Like It Hot," in which hordes of ravenous men line the sidewalks for Marilyn's arrival, frantically chanting her name, their eyes and mouths distorted to giant, terrifying effect as if they wish to devour her whole.
In his depiction of the famous subway grate scene from "The Seven Year Itch," he similarly lingers, with Marilyn's ivory halter dress billowing up around her as she giggles and smiles for the crowds and cameras. (Jennifer Johnson's costume design is flawless throughout, from her famous gowns to simple sweaters and capri pants.) We see it in black-and-white and color, slow-motion and regular speed, and from every conceivable angle, over and over.
It becomes so repetitive after a while that this iconic, pop culture moment becomes numbing, and we tire of the spectacle. Maybe that was Dominik's point all along. But that is not the case.
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