Celebrity

The June cover of Vanity Fair depicts Marilyn Monroe. Sublime, nubile, irresistible. But if her glory inspired reverie, reality was rudely returned by the cover caption. The Lost Nudes. Fifty years after her death, Marilyn Monroe was still being commoditized. Not to wonder, though. Salacious sells. So why not go with Marilyn, one more time?

To support the caption, Vanity Fair editors chose six contact prints of Marilyn at poolside, struggling to get into or out of an unwieldy beach robe. The sequence isn't clear and not much of Marilyn is bare. Even geezers old enough to remember her will likely remain untitillated, while the two and a half generations of lusties who have passed puberty since her demise will probably only shrug, if they see the magazine at all.

Actually, Marilyn Monroe's appeal as the enduring Love Goddess is presented far more persuasively by the publicity stills from her last movie, Something's Got to Give, which frame the new/old stuff. They so overwhelm the puffery that readers are more than apt to wish that The Lost Nudes had remained that way.

But the canny editors are not entirely licentiously bereft. At the conclusion of the story, readers who have gotten that far are directed to VF.COM/ ARCHIVE, and an excerpt from Channeling the Marilyn Myth, by Norman Mailer. Mailer, a New York celebrity, wrote entirely without restraint or taste. In an extract from Act I, entitled Strawhead, Mailer invents a dialogue between Marilyn and a female minder involving menstrual cramps. It reaches a point where Marilyn tells of a doctor asking her about the number of abortions she had. Mailer has Marilyn reply, "I don't know." The minder queries, "You don't know?" Marilyn replies, "Twelve." Minder: "What did you do, get pregnant every month?"

Such is the regard in which one celebrity stalker held Marilyn Monroe. Of course, it was grist for a prominent celebrity magazine's mill.

This year marks the 70th anniversary of another celebrity’s death, that of John Barrymore. Barrymore was considered the finest Shakespearian actor of his time, perhaps of all time.

As did many other legitimate stage actors, including his brother Lionel and sister Ethel, John Barrymore followed the lure of gold to Hollywood. The explosive growth of the motion picture industry brought undreamed of riches and world fame to performers, of which Barrymore was classified in the top rank. This, despite his sardonic reference to the movie business and its mores as “Hollywoodus in Latrina.”

Neither celebrity nor the accompanying fortune was the focus of John Barrymore’s life, however. Instead, he struggled with his own identity. He journeyed to India in a quest to find spirituality in the ancient wisdom of the east. He married four times, each one ending in chaos and divorce. The third, to the actress Delores Costello, produced a granddaughter, the divine Drew Barrymore.

He also drank prodigiously. A regular imbiber from age 15, one estimate, probably hyperbolic but maybe not, had him consuming 500 barrels of liquor over the remainder of his lifetime, which ended at age 60, unremarkably due to cirrhosis of the liver.

What, other than celebrity, were common ties between John Barrymore and Marilyn Monroe? They were of completely different eras. Ms Monroe’s career was confined to motion pictures. She was judged entirely by the sex appeal she exuded. Her popularity has never been equaled, and her image obviously remains marketable fifty years after her death. Although she exhibited real comedic talent in The Seven Year Itch, and in Some Like It Hot, she never got past her typecast, received little critical acclaim, and her pay was never commensurate with the money her movies earned for 20th Century Fox.

Barrymore, in contrast, effortlessly made the transition from the stage to the studio, from silents to talkies, starring in a variety of roles and commanding huge salaries. But, as age and dissipation mounted, the roles diminished. Ironically, the Internal Revenue Service orchestrated the coda to a great acting career.

The hapless Barrymore, unencumbered by the realities of ordinary living, only casually attended to his income tax obligations. As a result, as his health rapidly deteriorated and the IRS and various other creditors closed in, he created his last starring role, a clownish parody of himself, his acting legacy, and his superb reputation as an actor. According to biographer and friend, Gene Fowler, Barrymore had little idea of where his more than three million dollars in earnings had flown, but was determined to discharge his debts. He succeeded in doing so, at the expense of indelibly tarnishing his rarely matched theatrical accomplishments.

The road to celebrity for both Marilyn Monroe and John Barrymore was difficult. Both survived horrendous childhoods. Monroe never knew her father. Her mother was victimized by mental illness early in Marilyn’s childhood. She grew up in orphanages and foster homes and married at age 16, in order avoid being returned to an orphanage. The effect on a sensitive and obviously intelligent little girl must have been devastating. She apparently learned at a very early age that her femininity was the primary implement with which she would face life.

John Barrymore’s mother, Georgiana Drew was part of the John Drew family, a theatrical dynasty. She was involved in a stormy marriage to the actor, Maurice Barrymore, who was a charming but totally irresponsible roué. She died of tuberculosis when John was ten. He and his older brother and sister, Lionel and Ethel, were left to be raised by relatives, notably the matriarch of the Drew family, their grandmother, Louisa Lane Drew. John was prone to nightmares that lasted into early adolescence. He was quiet and reserved and often kept to himself. He was a talented sketch artist and pursued a career as an illustrator before taking up the family tradition by becoming an actor. He had an inveterate fear of following the fate of his father, who lost his mind and died in an institution.

By their own testimony, both Marilyn Monroe and John Barrymore were deep depressives. It is reasonable to conclude that both suffered greatly from emotions rampant with turmoil, especially fear and insecurity. Significantly, Barrymore was described by his friend, drama critic Ashton Stevens, as “the loneliest man I’ve ever known.”

Both Barrymore and Monroe sought escape by means of alcohol and drugs. As did Barrymore’s father, Maurice, Marilyn’s maternal grandfather, Otis Monroe, died in a mental institution, both of paresis.

Marilyn Monroe and John Barrymore earned the adulation they received. Although flawed as persons, they were titans of the world of entertainment who stirred the passions, albeit in different contexts, of adoring multitudes.

Perhaps these quotes will stimulate further curiosity about their respective psyches. Monroe: “I want to be wonderful!” Barrymore: “Good God! It’s time to smear on the grease paint, and pretend I’m someone else.”