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On what would have been her 100th birthday, Marilyn Monroe still defies the image society gave her, says �鶹��Ѱ�����Boulder film historian Clark Farmer

Platinum blond hair framing red lips parted just so. A white skirt flapping over the grate of a subway. Her image, the portrait of 1950s Americana, is instantly recognizable.��

Marilyn Monroe, born Norma Jeane Mortenson on June 1, 1926, died at age 36. Today, a century after her birth, Marilyn Monroe remains one of the most iconic stars in American cultural history.��

But how well do we actually know her? More importantly, what does it mean that we know the image so much better than the woman beneath?��

Clark Farmer, a �鶹��Ѱ�����Boulder assistant teaching professor in the Department of Cinema Studies and Moving Image Arts, encourages students to look closer at film and the cultural machinery responsible for our favorite on-screen stories.��

Clark Farmer, an assistant teaching professor in the Department of Cinema Studies and Moving Image Arts at the �鶹��Ѱ�����, has spent his career teaching students to look closer at film and the cultural machinery responsible for our favorite on-screen stories.��

On what would be Monroe’s 100th birthday, Farmer offers a nuanced perspective of her mythos.��

A star is built

The Monroe the world knows was as much discovered as she was constructed. When Norma Jeane entered the film business in 1946, the Hollywood studio system was already adept at creating personalities for its stars.��

“Studios had a vast machinery to manufacture personas for their actors, but the performers were able to contribute to the process,” Farmer says.��

That was something Monroe took seriously. She collaborated with her personal makeup artist, Allan “Whitey” Snyder, to develop the signature look she debuted in Niagara.��

“This is the look that people who have never seen a Monroe film still recognize. The look immortalized in Andy Warhol’s silkscreens,” Farmer says.��

Of course, studios also controlled which roles stars were cast in, giving them an outsized say in how they were seen. From the start, Monroe was handed “dumb blonde” parts and spent years fighting to be seen as something more.��

More than glamour��

Hollywood had no shortage of glamorous women before Monroe arrived on set and has had no shortage since. Rita Hayworth set hearts alight and Betty Grable smiled her way onto wartime pinups.��

However, when Monroe broke through in 1953, starring in Niagara, Gentlemen Prefer Blondes and How toMarry a Millionaire, the cultural shock was palpable. That same December, the first issue of Playboy hit newsstands with Monroe starring in its centerfold.��

“She wasn’t simply glamorous or alluring,” Farmer says. “She was sexuality personified.”��

Unlike earlier Hollywood sirens who projected power and control, Monroe came across unguarded, almost innocent.��

“Monroe seemed softer and more vulnerable, even to some extent damaged. Men might project on to her fantasies of an unthreatening partner who didn’t demand anything from them,” Farmer says of the way Monroe’s sexuality was coded.��

That image only deepened her allure. After her untimely death, the idea of Monroe as a beautiful victim became a permanent part of her star persona.��

During the 1950s, though, her status as the “ultimate sex symbol” was cemented in the zeitgeist. It was widely accepted during a time when cultural gender roles were incredibly narrow.��

A year after her death in 1962, the publication of Betty Friedan’s The Feminine Mystique would help launch second-wave feminism. This was the start of an evolution in how society viewed Monroe and helped pave the way for wider appreciation of the actress, not just the image.��

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“I think that the true legacy of Monroe is in her performances, where you can see her as a great talent that transcends just being an image,” says �鶹��Ѱ�����Boulder film historian Clark Farmer. (Photo: Wikimedia Commons)

“I think it is a better world where a woman isn’t reduced to being just sex and nothing else, and we can instead see their sexuality as part of their complete humanity,” Farmer says.��

The actress behind the archetype��

While studios and many fans were content to enjoy the eye candy, Farmer is quick to point out the seriousness with which Monroe approached her craft. From 1947, she trained in Method acting, first at the Actors' Laboratory Theater and later at Lee Strasberg's Actors Studio in New York.��

Her 1956 film Bus Stop, filmed under a new contract that gave her more creative control, was a turning point. Monroe took on an Ozark accent and stripped away her signature glamour to deliver a performance that garnered a positive critical reception for her acting chops rather than her looks.��

However, Farmer says dramatic work wasn’t where Monroe’s talent was greatest. He suggests comedy was where her star shined brightest.��

“Critics and audiences often underestimate how much skill goes into comic acting,” Farmer says. “In part because ‘serious’ acting is associated with dramatic roles. But playing a ‘dumb blonde’ who secretly isn’t so dumb is actually very challenging.”��

In films like Gentlemen Prefer Blondes and Some Like It Hot, Farmer sees an actress using irony, comedic timing and quiet intelligence to subvert the stereotypes she’s performing.��

“Today I think we recognize the immense skill in her comic roles,” he says.��

A lasting image

More than six decades after her death, Monroe’s image has grown only more vivid. That is no accident.��

“James Dean and Marilyn Monroe are encased in the amber of film at the moment of their peak popularity. We don’t have to let a pesky thing like aging get in the way of fantasizing about them,” Farmer says. “Monroe will never be older than 36.”��

Earlier Hollywood sex symbols didn’t fare as well. Many saw their stars rise and fall with their eras. Others found themselves embroiled in controversy, forever tarnishing once glamourous personas.��

Monroe’s untimely death froze her popularity at its height, and her image would go on to inspire everyone from Madonna to a generation of filmmakers who never met her.��

Still, most people, including the students in Farmer’s classes, know Monroe’s image from a distance, but have never actually watched her work.��

“They are often surprised by her singing ability, her comic timing, and her obvious intelligence,” Farmer says.��

On Monroe’s 100th, perhaps the most fitting tribute is to not just admire the icon, but to watch her films with greater appreciation for the woman smiling behind the cherry lipstick.

“I think that the true legacy of Monroe is in her performances,” Farmer says, “where you can see her as a great talent that transcends just being an image.”��

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