Blonde Ambition

__________________________

A One Act

Lindsay Hayward

Contact: Lindsay Hayward

817 807 0717
lindsayhay ward.42@gmail.com
www.lindsaylhayward.com
Dramatists Guild M ember 101696
 BLONDE AMBITION

THE BLONDE. Identifies female, 36. A legend.

SUGAR. Identifies female, 32. An actress.
THE GIRL. Identifies female, 24. A model.
NORM A JEANE. Identifies female. A child.
VOICE. Identifies female, unseen. Can be double cast or recorded.

Time & Place

All action takes place in a dressing room on the set of Twentieth Century Fox’s
production of Something’s Got to Give, M ay 1962.

Author’s Note

This is a dream play. All drama unfolds within the confines of The Blonde’s mind, and
not the film set. An overt attachment to reality is not encouraged. For example, the actors
do not so much enter and exit, as exist when needed. The characters are to function as
various schisms of The Blonde’s personality, so there is no reason to keep roles within
strict physical confines of M onroe’s actual dimensions. (36-24-34 to be exact.)

On the Nudity

The audience needs only to understand that THE BLONDE is nude under her bathrobe
and can achieved with as much or as little masking as comfortable. Full nudity is not
required for the action.

“I am involved in a freedom ride protesting the loss of the

minority rights belonging to the few remaining earthbound
stars. All we demanded was our right to twinkle.”

Marilyn Monroe
 2.

DARKNESS TO START

In the black, an intercom clicks on

VOICE (V.O.)
Will M s. M onroe please report to the set? Please report to set, M s. M onroe.

A soulful alto of Ella Fitzgerald is heard. The

lights lazily warm to a Twentieth Century Fox
Studio dressing room. A total mess. A large
dressing table with vanity, takes up the dominant
space. It is overflowing with cosmetics, make-up
pots, discarded pill bottles, with more tissues
than considered hygienically sound. On the floor,
a waste basket also filled with pill bottles,
numerous lip-stick smeared tissues. In one
corner is a couch barely visible due to the
volume of costume pieces piled on top of it. Dog-
eared scripts, tabloids, and books jutted out
from the furniture’s towering fabric. More
costumes hang half-hazard along a clothes rack.
Two formal chairs, and a pair of mid-century
side tables complete the space. A record player
with full collection spills out over one table.
More books with a framed portrait of Lincoln-
or perhaps Arthur Miller, cover the top of
another. A discreet minibar is tucked away
behind the seating area. Tiny booze bottles along
with a large red thermos rest, discarded on
various surfaces. At the dressing table, glazing
out of glass-less, three-side mirror, sits THE
BLONDE. Half made up, half-dressed in a state
of inertia. A beautiful Renoir portrait.

VOICE (V.O.)
Final call for M s. M onroe. M s. M onroe please report to the set.

Languidly, THE BLONDE reaches for the

intercom.
 3.

VOICE (V.O.)
M s. M onroe please//

She flips the switch. Quiet.

THE BLONDE
M y lips are incredibly flat. That’s, the god’s truth, I swear. When I was kid, they said
my mouth look like two pancakes flighting in oil on a griddle. Took me ages to figure out
how to get ‘em just right. The trick? Two brushes, and three lipsticks to create a world
wonder. The M onroe’s lips. Consider it a gift. Truth artists can work on any canvas. Just
so happens I have a talent regarding my oral cavity. And I can draw some real pretty lips
too.

THE BLONDE smiles again. The needle hits the

end of a record. The music stops as THE
BLONDE picks up a cosmetic brush. She dully
dabs it in a bottle before moving it towards her
passive grin. As the brush nears her mouth,
there is an intense moment of internal panic.
THE BLONDE freezes, then abruptly lowers her
arm. To regain a sense of control, her gaze
wanders upward.

THE BLONDE
Not a natural blonde either. Though everyone knows that. I was what they called a
dishwater blonde. The polite term for mousey. No girl wants to be thought of as a rodent.
But I just can’t see how bringing up a dirty sink is any better. Not like brunette is a bad
word or anything. Suited Jane Russell just fine. All things considered. Though I suppose
there was a reason the movie was called, Gentlemen Prefer Blondes.

THE BLONDE picks up a brush as if to pull it

through her hair. Another hesitation. To change
the subject.

THE BLONDE
I still use Harlow’s lady to get her exact shade of platinum. Now there’s something most
people don’t know. I worshiped Jean Harlow. So, after my first hit movie, I made sure to
find out who was responsible for her tint.
 4.

That fossilized old prune who comes in here every two weeks for my roots.Did the exact
same bleach for Hollywood’s very first bombshell. Same strength peroxide, and
everything. After a while? You hardly notice the smell. The mole was never real. That was
all the studio’s idea.

THE BLONDE reaches for a tissue to rubs off

the offending spot. She stares dreamily at her
reflection until she and the audience become
aware of music. The record has started to play
again. THE BLONDE turns to find SUGAR by
the player, having replaced the needle. Has she
been there the whole time? SUGAR is a work in
contrast to a Hollywood blonde. Think Cherie in
the movie, Bus Stop. However her southern
hospitability does not extend to a more caustic
demeanor. THE BLONDE defensively turns to
the mirror.

THE BLONDE
Here’s something else folks may not know. Growing up in the orphanage? I was awfully
lonely. So. After curfew each night? I’d creep out of any old iron framed bed up to the
ward’s only window. Tilt your head just right pass the metal bars, and you could see the
RKO Studio Sign. That logo lite up all night long. Flashing such star quality the whole
sky seemed to glow. No. Twinkled. I’d sit pressed against the frame and watch that neon
sign till morning. I knew one day? I’d be an actress. Famous. And I’d never be lonely
again.

SUGAR snorts.

THE BLONDE
Never had any actual friends as a kid. M y only one waited in the mirror. I’d spend hours
in the janitor’s closet bathroom, confiding in the girl reflected back at me. She was all light
and laughter. Under the harsh fluorescent lights, she’d glided across grimy linoleum just
like Shirley Temple. Only prettier. I’d tell her everything. Dreams, fears. Couldn’t help it,
everyone loves a good little girl.It’s a shame some don’t stay as sweet when we grow.
Never expect reflections to be cruel.

SUGAR
Never expected some dime store glass to service as an excuse to talk to yourself.
Especially when alcohol works so much better. Reflections are only that.
 5.

Can’t take the passing of time personally, darlin’. It happens to the best of us.. What’s
worse is what’s done to folks who answer back to those voices in their head.

THE BLONDE
I have never understood cruelty, never ever.

SUGAR
World of difference between cruelty and truth. Learned that at the Actor’s Studio. Now
drop the whole Williams’ heroine act, honey.

THE BLONDE
I//

SUGAR
(interrupting)
You’re no rose tattooed Babydoll riding off the last streetcar named Desiree. You married
a completely different playwright, remember? The one that writes about salesmen,
foremen, Puritans.

THE BLONDE
The third husband//

SUGAR
Too many men, if you ask me. No emotionally damaged southern bell could survive in his
sea of testosterone. She’s drowned. Dragged down in all the repressed male emotion.
Only somehow “It was a cold house I kept.”

THE BLONDE
Your cruelty is showing again.

SUGAR
I speak the truth.

THE BLONDE
Which is what, exactly? I knew once. Now the memories come out wrong. Was it the
playwright who wrote that movie for me, or Capote?

SUGAR
Your memory’s not the problem. Truman Capote wrote Breakfast at Tiffany’s about you
while Arthur wrote The Misfits for you.Tennessee Williams wrote absolutely nothing for
you. Which I consider a damn shame. And if we are giving it all up to Jesus? You did not
grow up in an orphanage.
 6.

THE BLONDE
I did//

SUGAR
Two years//

THE BLONDE
At The Los Angeles’ Home for Girls//

SUGAR
For less than twenty-four months ‘cause Grace sprung you early. Just like she did from
all those other foster homes. Your mother lives in Texas, which to the fine folks of
California makes her as good as dead. But even if she does dress in white now, that don’t
make her ghost. She’s still your next of kin.

THE BLONDE
Imagine it’d be easier if she were dead.

SUGAR
Knowing Gladys M ortenson, you don’t have to imagine. And you had Grace. Jim.

THE BLONDE
The first husband.

SUGAR
The easiest of lot.

THE BLONDE
When you’re still playing with paper dolls, it doesn’t matter. I’d just turned fifteen. And
according to Grace, more than old enough to get married. I was a child, still Norma Jeane//

SUGAR
Oh no, don’t you dare go rattling her cage. Not now.

THE BLONDE
You started it.

SUGAR
No, you did. With this.
 7.

SUGAR gestures to the state of the dressing

room.

SUGAR
They are trying to shoot your come-back picture, honey. But instead of being the good
girl and reporting to set, you’re wallowing in self-pity, and Chanel No. 5.

THE BLONDE
I just need more time.

SUGAR
You’ve been in here for hours. They’re all waiting. Dean M artin, Cukor, the kid playing
the kid. You always do this.

THE BLONDE
There’s no such thing as instant glamour. What’d Grace always say?

SUGAR
“Beauty is pain.” Funny. The longer you go along, seems like it’s more pain for less
beauty.

THE BLONDE
M ore cruelty.

SUGAR
M ore home truths. Never used to take you this long. Remember The Ladies of The
Chorus?

THE BLONDE
That was different. Johnny was still live to start//

SUGAR
Only really difference was the date of a calendar. Your first real picture. Once upon a
time, you care about things like that. What a god-awful movie! Recall how hot that old
studio boss got during the daily rushes?

THE BLONDE
I don’t remember.
 8.

SUGAR
The man turned so red always seemed about to choke on his cigarette. Remember how
one time he shot out of the screening room bellowing,
SUGAR THE BLONDE
“WHO’S THE FAT BLONDE AND “Who’s the fat blonde, and who the hell is
WHO THE HELL IS SHE FUCKING?” she fucking?”

SUGAR hoots with laughter.

THE BLONDE
Wasn’t remotely funny. It was humiliating.

SUGAR
Especially since you had to screw a whole squadron of studio execs for one lousy B-
picture.

THE BLONDE slams both hands down on the

dressing table. Hard.

SUGAR
There’s that old Oakie temper. Now. Stop stewing and start working before your
Nembutal cocktail kicks in again. We both know it ain’t aspirin in here.

There is an air of challenge. THE BLONDE

now holds SUGAR’s gaze as she opens the
cosmic pot.

THE BLONDE
Never an Oakie, you know. Never rode out of some dustbowl like Henry Fonda//

SUGAR
Always did love him in The Grapes of Wrath.

THE BLONDE
I was born right here in the city of angels.

SUGAR
They called you L’lle Oakie though. In that first acting class. They’d all laughed at you.
Flouncy around in those mousey ringlets.
 9.

THE BLONDE
The polite term is dishwater blonde. And the real joke was all those debutantes’ wasting
daddy’s’ money on Acting 101. Show business runs in my family. M other was a studio
cutter. And my daddy could have been famous. The real one. M other always was said//

SUGAR huffs in annoyance. She turns on the

record player.

THE BLONDE
What are you doing?

SUGAR
CAN’T HEAR YOU!

THE BLONDE
TURN THE M USIC DOWN.

SUGAR turns down the music.

THE BLONDE
I was talking about my real father.

She immediately turns up the music again.

THE BLONDE
TURN DOWN THE RECORD. I DON’T WANT//

SUGAR
WHAT YOU SAY?

SUGAR turns down the music.

THE BLONDE
I DON’T WANT TO… scream.

SUGAR
Not gonna hear that ridiculous fable again. Clark Gable was not your daddy. End of story.
Now. M ake yourself presentable. Because, frankly my dear, I don’t give a-Fix your
lipstick.

THE BLONDE
You’re upsetting me. Look. M y hands are shaking.
 10.

SUGAR
They shake because of the pills, not me. Get Whitey in here to do the make-up then. He
does it better anyway.

THE BLONDE
Don’t need Whitey. I need a little sympathy. Doesn’t hurt anyone to hear about my
parents. Imagine if Gable had been//

SUGAR turns the music up a final time.

THE BLONDE
I CAN’T DO THIS IF I CAN’T HEAR M YSELF THINK!

SUGAR
YOU CAN HEAR YOURSELF JUST FINE. THAT’S THE PROBLEM .

SUGAR turns away from THE BLONDE

dismissively. THE BLONDE turns back to the
mirror. After a few feeble strokes THE
BLONDE accepts defeat. She takes a pill from
one of the many bottles on the table. Rubbing her
temples, THE BLONDE lowers her head. The
record skips once, then twice. The needle
lifts.When the music starts again, it is a rousting
big band number.THE GIRL has arrived. A
classic pin-up wearing a large smile, and not
much else. She possesses a natural wit just not
the brightest bulb. THE GIRL erupts bubbly
laughter. In one hand she holds a wine glass,
the other lifts up a bottle.

THE GIRL
Who wants refreshments?

Giggling, THE GIRL switches off the record

player.

THE GIRL
Did you know chardonnay is best served at exactly 50 degrees Fahrenheit? It’s a
scientific fact. Brought to you by The Californian Association of Winegrape Growers.
 11.

I was on their Girls of Grapes Calendar. Not the cover, mind you. But I was M iss
February.

SUGAR
Oh. The shortest month.

THE GIRL
Even if you were to count the leap year?

SUGAR
I’d consider it a leap you could even count that high.

THE GIRL
(laughing)
You’re a hoot.

SUGAR
Aren’t I just a proverbial barrel of monkeys? Your momma warned you about.

THE GIRL
Never hurts to smile. It takes fifty muscles to frown, but only seventeen to smile. M ore
frowning means more wrinkles. Something to consider, especially at your age.According
to the American Dental Association.

SUGAR
M ade their calendar too? Did you now?

THE GIRL
Got the cover.

SUGAR
Congratulations on your coveted Dental Dame title.

To THE BLONDE.

SUGAR
Why is she here? And when is she leaving?

THE BLONDE is still face down on the dressing

table. No response.
 12.

THE GIRL
Golly, things could certainly lighten up in here.

She moves to the record player.

THE GIRL
Any requests?

SUGAR
None you’ll take.

THE GIRL
Is she alright?

SUGAR
What do you think?

THE GIRL
Is she dead?

SUGAR
No. Not if there’s two of us.

THE GIRL
What can we do?

SUGAR
M anaged to smuggle a stomach pump in with that get-up? Nope? Can’t imagine where
you’d find the room. Suppose? Not much then.And at the rate she’s going, who knows
how many are coming to the party?

THE GIRL
Should we put out more chairs?

THE BLONDE slowly raises up her head. She

stares dully at the mirror.

THE GIRL
Oh, there’s a relief.

THE BLONDE
If only.
 13.

SUGAR
Aren’t you a little old? For her? You’re thirty-six. What does M iss Novelty Knockers
offer?

THE BLONDE
I need her.

THE GIRL
I’m what the boys want.

THE BLONDE
She’s what they all want. A pretty young thing with no lights on above/

SUGAR
And legs spread below?

THE GIRL
What’s wrong with having fun? We should all start to live before we get too old. Fear is
stupid. So are regrets.

SUGAR
Fancy words from an unformed frontal lobe. As I recollect, you were the one who posed
for those nekkid photos.

THE BLONDE
Not naked, nude.

SUGAR
There’s a difference?

THE GIRL
One is artistic expression, while the other//

SUGAR
Pays the bills?

THE GIRL
Not exactly.

SUGAR
What about a cup of coffee then?
 14.

THE GIRL
With change for the cab fare.

SUGAR
Who says no one values art these days?

THE GIRL
And it’s not true that I had nothing on. I had the radio on.

She returns to the record collection.

SUGAR
Fine. She’s mildly amusing. She can stay. Someone needs to provide comic relief.

THE GIRL
Is that a new single?

SUGAR
Sure. Keep looking, honey. Let me know if you get stuck, and I’ll hum a few bars.

SUGAR crosses to THE BLONDE.

SUGAR
Back to business. No amount of pancake gets you on the right side of thirty again.
Wanna fool the folks at home? Think less about the glow of yesterday’s portfolio. Focus
on the glare of today’s set lights.Did you tell them to fix that little floozy’s hair? There’s
only one blonde in a M onroe picture.

THE BLONDE
I told them. Seems cruel, making her go darker. She’s only a kid.

SUGAR
Please. Give her a padded bra and a chance. You’re the name. So you’re the blonde. And
that’s showbusiness, kid. Besides. It’s no worse than when that old brood mare
demanded you wear cat eyes frames in//

THE BLONDE
How To Marry A Millionaire.
 15.

SUGAR
What a fluff film. A pretty girl in glasses? Why, the jokes practically write themselves.
How can she get a man when she’s got a stigmatism?

THE BLONDE
I couldn’t see straight for the entire shoot

SUGAR
No reason to make the damn things prescription.

THE BLONDE
I fell over everything, including Betty Grable. Twice.

SUGAR
Everyone would laugh, saying “There’s M arilyn, with her legs up in the air.”
SUGAR THE GIRL
“Again.” “Again.”

THE GIRL
I thought it was a joke.

THE BLONDE
I was the joke.

SUGAR
But that was before Strasberg, and the Studio. Who’s laughing now, huh? No one even
remembers some war time hoofer.

THE BLONDE
Grable’s not made a movie in years.

SUGAR
Chorus girls always get put out to pasture. It’s “Thank you for your service” and shut
the door on your way out.

THE GIRL
Why are we talking about cows now?

SUGAR
Hoofer not heifer.
 16.

THE BLONDE
Betty Grable was a dancer.

SUGAR
Though always was an air of barnyard about that one.

THE BLONDE
She tapped. She was very nice.

SUGAR
As I recollect that was one bonafide ballerina. A real bovine of dance.

THE GIRL
I’m sure her performances were M OO-ving!

THE BLONDE
You’re being ridiculous.

SUGAR
Utter-ly captivating!

THE GIRL
Did she take the bulls by the horn then?

SUGAR
Hell yes. Studio had a whole stable of starlets that could chew scenery just as well.

THE GIRL
Are you sure that was the only thing they were chewing?

THE BLONDE attempts to ignore the other two,

but their amusement overwhelms. She laughs. In
a moment of pure movie magic.

SUGAR
Honey, this is Hollywood. It not so much if you chew--
SUGAR THE GIRL
IT’S WHETHER OR NOT YOU IT’S WHETHER OR NOT YOU
SWALLOW! SWALLOW!

SUGAR
Whole damn city’s a meat market.
 17.

THE BLONDE still laughs, but her luminous

joy is gone. Replaced with a slightly manic
quality.

THE GIRL
Get along little doggies!

SUGAR
That’s what they call us, honey.

THE BLONDE
(near hysteria)
Bitch.

SUGAR and THE GIRL stop cold.

THE GIRL
No one said that.

SUGAR
Not anymore.

THE BLONDE
Yes they do. Not those exact words. Not to my face. But it’s still there. Waiting at the at
the end of every sentence. It’s funny, you know. For years, I figured all these powerful
men must really love women. They love to dress you, design you, director you. But it’s
not the girl they admire. It’s the control. I’ve met the President of the United States. I’ve
known the leader of the free world. And know what? He was exactly like the rest. “It’s a
privilege, ma’am.” Until it’s “Pick your dress off the floor.”That’s what they think I am.
An animal in heat. To be contained. Tamed. Locked away in the tiniest cell of their
minds.

THE BLONDE turns back to the mirror.

THE GIRL

We got carried away.

THE BLONDE
He’s not as tall as everyone thinks. Not what you’d call robust. At all. Sometimes he
could barely stand upright from all the pain.
 18.

SUGAR
He had no problem keeping other things up.

THE BLONDE
He called me an artist. A real actress. I figured he respected me, until he didn’t. Same old
story. When you get pass around so often, it shouldn’t be a surprise. But it is. Pain
always is.

THE GIRL crosses to THE BLONDE and pulls

a tube of lipstick out for her outfit.

THE GIRL
Here, take it. Who cares if he’s the President, or Pope even? Look at her.

THE GIRL gestures to THE BLONDE’s

reflection.

THE GIRL
That’s Collier’s M agazine’s M odel Blonde. Photoplay’s Playmate of the Year, 4 years in
a row. M r. President doesn’t know what he’s missing. That face launched Playboy
magazine!

SUGAR
Wasn’t her face that launched a thousand prints. Next you’ll tell her guys actually read
the articles.

THE GIRL
Exactly. Those nudie shoots from before? They created a magazine empire. You did that.
You. The world’s very first centerfold.

THE BLONDE peers into the glass. A beat of

recognition. Energized, she begins to put the
lipstick on.A shift in mood. THE GIRL moves
picks up a magazine to settles in one of the
chairs. SUGAR pours herself another drink. As
a peace-offering.

SUGAR
Weren’t bad shots.The nudes, nothing to be ashamed about.
 19.

THE GIRL
I’m not.

SUGAR
But there’s more than that, you know? M ore than two-toned flesh smudged into cheap
newsprint. Be nice, if for once? There was an interest in what’s underneath the grease
paint. And I’m not talking about the underwear. Or lack thereof.

THE GIRL
That’s not what important.

SUGAR
Why not though?

SUGAR looks at the books scatter around the

room.

SUGAR
‘Cause these ain’t for show. It’d make a change to be asked about The Brothers
Karamazov for once.

THE GIRL
Karama-what?

SUGAR
Never mind. You got her moving, there’s the lifesaver.

THE GIRL
No thanks you. I never eat sweets.

THE GIRL returns to the magazine. SUGAR

chuckles spite of herself.

SUGAR
Did you know M r. President had a poster of you on the wall when he was in the
hospital?

THE GIRL
Really?
 20.

SUGAR
Uh-uh. In the recovery ward. You were pinned to a wall. Standing barrel-legged, cocking
two pistols in a cowgirl costume.

THE GIRL
I remember that shoot.

SUGAR
Picture was mounted upside down, though. So, legs in the air.

THE GIRL
Again!

SUGAR returns to the drinks cabinet. She picks

up one of the heavier books littering the stage.

SUGAR
Dostoyevsky? Psh, who do you think you’re kidding?

SUGAR drinks from her glass. May even pop a

pill from a discarded bottle. THE BLONDE
works on her lipstick. THE GIRL grows bored
with the magazine.

THE GIRL
If you could be anyway, where would you be?

SUGAR
Pardon?

THE GIRL
It’s an icebreaker.

SUGAR
Oh lord. Have we sunk that low?

THE GIRL
McCall’s magazine says they’re just the thing for mixed company.

SUGAR
Definitely a mixed bag of nuts in there.
 21.

THE GIRL
Then. If you could be anyway, where would you be?

SUGAR
New York City. God, it was amazing! Nothing like this throbbing varicose vein. I was
happier than a pig in a prize hollow there. Breakfast with Cheryl Crawford followed by
classes with Brando. Finally late night dancin’ with Capote, just for the hell of it!

SUGAR stops. Thinks.

SUGAR
Arthur hated every second.

THE GIRL
The Playwright.

SUGAR
Husband Number 3.

THE GIRL
I went to Korea. Which husband was that?

SUGAR
The Athlete.

THE GIRL
Was he the first or the second? I never can remember.

SUGAR
No one really remembers their first. And the Athlete was Husband
Number 2.

THE GIRL
Joe was a good guy.

SUGAR
A good baseball player. There’s a difference.

THE GIRL
He didn’t understand the industry.
 22.

SUGAR
He didn’t want to. This was a guy who couldn’t say his name on camera unless it printed
on a cue card.

THE GIRL
We had different ideas. About a lot of things.

SUGAR
Like marriage. His idea was a girl should be chained at home, barefoot and pregnant.

THE GIRL
No. Besides, I was never home. Never ever. Couldn’t cook, don’t clean. I couldn’t even
remember to keep milk in the fridge for his heartburn!

SUGAR
Oh, honey don’t beat yourself up. That was his job, remember?

THE GIRL
I don’t remember.

SUGAR
What really happened on the Asia trip?

THE GIRL
I don’t understand.

SUGAR
How did Joe handle the notion of you entertaining those troops in Korea?

THE GIRL
Oh, you should have heard the noise! Just hundreds of men waiting there on a snowy
airfield!

SUGAR
What did your husband/.

THE GIRL
It was so cold, you know. While I had on just this a slip of a dress. Outside, in February,
in a snowstorm! And all those men had stood there on tarmac. For hours. In the sleet and
ice. For me. Only me. In a clingy cheap dress and dime store earrings. The piano was out
of tune, but no one noticed. Those men, they only heard me. They went wild in the
freezing cold. All for a little nobody from the Los Angeles Home for Girls.
 23.

Imagine the heat radiating from such masculinity! I straight came off, and hugged Joe so
hard! M ust of shouted straight in his ear ‘cause of all the noise. “Have you ever heard
such cheering, Joe? Have you ever had fifteen hundred men screaming your name?”

SUGAR
And he said?

THE GIRL doesn’t response. THE BLONDE

faces out.

SUGAR
AND HE SAID?

THE BLONDE
“Try fifteen thousand, M arilyn.”

SUGAR
Exactly.

THE GIRL
The World Series. I forgot. He’d won so many games, had all those fans applauding in the
stands. I just didn’t remember. M y fault.

SUGAR
And he broke your thumb. So you wouldn’t make that mistake again.

THE GIRL
It was a sprain. An accident with the hotel door!

SUGAR
And all those bruises during The Seven Year Itch? Yet another attack from a
random hotel door?

THE GIRL
Was that me? I… I don’t remember/

SUGAR
Give it a whirl. The Athlete was there when they filmed the famous subway scene. Four
seconds of film took five full hours on location to shoot. So much fuss, so many catcalls.
And for what? A hiss of breeze straight up M rs. DiM aggio’s crotch.
 24.

THE GIRL
He didn’t understand the industry. It upset him.

SUGAR
He had brought his friends that night. Remember? What was it they said?

THE BLONDE
“Aw Joe, what can you exact when you marry a whore?”

THE GIRL
It was a job. M y big break. I had to do the scene.

SUGAR
Wasn’t the World Series though. And what happened next?

THE GIRL
I don’t remember. I don’t want to.

THE BLONDE
He hit me. Not like before. In our hotel room, still the Honeymoon Suite. It was so bad,
folks complained to the front desk.Nobody checked though. Tabloids called it a real
knock-down brawl. Guess so. Who’d strike out against an all-American Slugger?

SUGAR
Joe always had one hell of a swing.

THE BLONDE
Whitey could barely cover the marks for filming the next day.

THE GIRL
I had to go back on set. If you don’t work, you get fined. And everyone knew//

THE BLONDE
They all knew//

SUGAR
What can you expect when you marry a whore?

THE GIRL
What about you? Do you think your choice was better?
 25.

SUGAR
Arthur never laid a hand on me.

THE GIRL
Only because he could never be bothered to do much of anything for you at all.

SUGAR
This has moved past breaking any ice.

THE GIRL
The great American playwright never wrote a play for you.

SUGAR
‘Cause he did one better. The Misfits was his gift to me.

THE GIRL
Was it? A movie about old cowboys hunting dogfood, doesn’t sound much like you? Even
a dummy like me can see he used you. Rode your coattails to get his own name up on a
Hollywood marque.

SUGAR
What a load of bull.

THE GIRL
He was no help during your little incident in England.

SUGAR
I was filming a movie with Sir Lawrence Oliver.

THE BLONDE
The Prince and the Showgirl.

SUGAR
Didn’t need any help. I had full creative control/

THE GIRL
You had was a full nervous breakdown. Where was your noble artist then?

SUGAR
You’re not out for laughs. You out for blood.
 26.

THE GIRL
He risked your precious career on a load of highbrow ideals.

SUGAR
Those hearings? For the House Un-American Activities Committee?

THE BLONDE
Have you or anyone you’ve know ever been a member of the communist party?

SUGAR
This is Hollywood. Everybody got an ‘ism’ lurking in the closet. Vegetarianism.
Lesbianism. Socialism. M ost folks probably signed up thinking it was diet plan. Besides,
Arthur couldn’t organize a dinner party let alone a political agenda.

THE GIRL
He needed you. What’s more red, white, and blue than apple pie?

THE BLONDE
An All-American Blonde.

THE GIRL
He can’t even keep you sober for your biggest hit.

THE BLONDE
I hated Some Like it Hot.

SUGAR
Hated it!

THE BLONDE
Everyone laughed at me.

SUGAR
Damn bastards made me look like a funny fat pig.

THE BLONDE
Why am I always the joke?
 27.

THE GIRL
Read the gossip rags. It’s all there in print. “Kissing you was like kissing Hitler.” Where
was your writer then? For a man of so many words, he sure as hell never said much of
anything.

SUGAR notices the shift in THE BLONDE’s

mood.

SUGAR
Quit it, honey.

THE GIRL
For some who can dish it out, you’ve having a hard time swallowing!

SUGAR
I’m warning you.

THE GIRL
HE COULDN’T EVEN BE BOTHER TO KNOCK YOU UP!

THE BLONDE slams her hands down on the

dressing table with great force.

THE BLONDE
SHUT UP! ALL OF YOU! Too much noise! Too many voices! It’s me. Not any of them.
M e.

The lights flicker with growing sense of unease.

A chill appears in the air.

THE BLONDE
I really did want a child. Eventually. But Time never seemed quite right. Not now.Had all
the time in the world. Until….I didn’t. Never could nail the timing. Probably for the best.
Who wants another Norma Jeane?

SUGAR
Don’t go there, honey.

The needle scratches off the record.

THE BLONDE
And what the use of an unwanted kid? Another burden.
 28.

THE GIRL
What’s happening.

SUGAR
Nothing good.

THE BLONDE
Another pathetic little girl passed from pillar to post. “Can’t keep her, Gladys. That
one’s trouble.” Don’t want her, Gladys. Lose the kid.”

The space is now black. Out of the darkness,

comes a child’s voice. It is not pleasant sound.

NORM A JEANE
I HAVE A NAM E. I AM NORM A JEANE.

Lights flicker to a grimy dimness. In the middle

of the dressing room stands a young girl. Her
appearance resembles a discarded, dim store
Shirley Temple.Yet NORMA JEANE commands
the space. There is nothing childlike in her rage.

NORM A JEANE
I am Norma Jeane Baker.

THE BLONDE
We all were. Once.

NORM A JEANE
NO. I am Norma Jeane Baker. The only Norma Jeane. You are sad imitations.

THE GIRL
Listen here, miss.

NORM A JEANE
You don’t frighten me. M y grandmother saw demons. They tormented her. Once she
chased me with a butcher knife. She tripped down our porch steps as she went. Or
maybe she was pushed. She always said I resembled one of them fallen angels.

SUGAR
Why now?
 29.

NORM A JEANE
You still here? Thought we left you back in the looney bin?

SUGAR
No need to bring up the Payne-Whitney.

THE BLONDE
The psychiatric hospital.

NORM A JEANE
‘Cause it was the same as orphanage, wasn’t it? Same bars on the window, same stains on
the mattress.

SUGAR
It was supposed to be a clinic. For exhaustion.

NORM A JEANE
It was supposed to be a visit. To the Home for Girls. I screamed.

SUGAR
When I figured it out? I screamed so loud.

NORM A JEANE
I bit all of them.

SUGAR
Took four orderlies to hold me down.

NORM A JEANE
They called me an animal.

SUGAR
Turns out demons are everywhere. Crazy as my mother.

NORM A JEANE
I had a mother. But they still locked me up. In the old janitor’s toilet. That’s where I first
saw it.

THE BLONDE
The mirror.
 30.

NORMA JEANE raises one hand slowly.

SUGAR
I was so…. So…I smashed the glass. Held a jagged edge to my throat and told them. If
they didn’t let me go, I would…. I’d…..

THE BLONDE takes one of her makeup

brushes. Holds it to her throat like a blade.

NORM A JEANE
(mocking)
What?

SUGAR doesn’t answer. THE BLONDE holds

the brush a beat longer. Throws it down on the
dressing table.

NORM A JEANE
Doesn’t matter then, does it? Didn’t work. Never works.

THE BLONDE
Still alive. Bad luck.

THE GIRL
What’s happening?

SUGAR
Weren’t you listening?

THE GIRL
She’s not one of us.

NORM A JEANE
I am Norma Jeane Baker.

THE BLONDE
The reflection from a mirror.

SUGAR
What happens when the glass breaks.
 31.

THE BLONDE
When life shatters. All the rage, all the rejection became hers. Nobody wants an unhappy
girl.

THE GIRL
I don’t remember any of this.

THE BLONDE
Because I choose not to.

SUGAR
We go over this every time. EVERY TIME.

NORM A JEANE
I’m the one who remembers. So you don’t have to. Every dirty, nasty, little memory.
They all come to me. And I ALWAYS remember.

SUGAR
Not only from childhood.

NORM A JEANE
I keep everything. The casting couches, back alleys, divorces. I was there.I remember. So
she can keep pretending.

THE BLONDE
Keep being M onroe.

THE GIRL
Is there even a M onroe?

THE BLONDE
No.

SUGAR
Fake as the hair, the mole. The name. All supplied by the studio.

NORM A JEANE
There’s only ever been Norma Jeane.

SUGAR
But between us? We fool the folks at home.
 32.

THE GIRL
I don’t understand.

SUGAR
‘Course you do.

THE GIRL
So. You have the brains, the body?

SUGAR
You the naivety.

THE GIRL
And then, anger?

NORMA JEANE laughs. It is not a pleasant

sound.

SUGAR
Try to keep up, honey.

THE GIRL
She’s what then?

THE BLONDE
Our ambition.

NORM A JEANE
I am Norma Jeane Baker. And no one will ever forget about me again.

SUGAR
If only we could be sure of that.

NORM A JEANE
What did you say?

SUGAR
So it isn’t just the get-up that’s getting’ old. I said, how can we be sure? She hasn’t
budged in ages. We lose this movie; we lose our contract. No contract, no prospects. No
nothing, and NO ONE REM EM BERS HAS-BEENS!
 33.

THE GIRL
How long does this go on?

SUGAR
It goes on as long as she goes on.

NORM A JEANE
SHUT YOUR HOLE. I’m the one who decides when it’s over, and you ain’t seen
nothing yet.

NORMA JEANE moves to the front of dressing

table, directly facing THE BLONDE. NORMA
JEANE slowly raises her hand. THE BLONDE
recoils as if struck. THE BLONDE raises her
hand to mirror NORMA JEANE. SUGAR
and THE GIRL move either side of the mirror.

THE BLONDE
What do you see? Only surface. Really. A reflection to hide what’s underneath. Nothing
more. All they need is the surface.

SUGAR
Give folks an act.

THE GIRL
Everyone loves a happy girl.

NORM A JEANE
All you needed is the reflection.

NORMA JEANE moves away from the mirror to

join the other characters as they recede into the
background.

NORM A JEANE
Nothing more.

THE BLONDE jolts upright from the table with

a gasp of air.
 34.

THE BLONDE
I’m so scared.

THE BLONDE looks around the dressing room.

She is alone. The music crackles back to life, a
hum of static from the intercom system.

THE BLONDE
Oh no. No! Please. I don’t want to be alone. I can’t be the only one. Please. It’s too hard.
To remember. I can’t remember everything on my own. What am I to do? Who am I to
be? I don’t remember! Who am I?

A knock at the dressing room door. The VOICE

is heard through the door.

VOICE (FROM OFF)

M s. M onroe? Sorry to bother you, but filming has wrapped for the day.

THE BLONDE
No-no-no. no.

VOICE (FROM OFF)

There is a photographer here, from Life M agazine? He’d like a few pictures. M aybe on
the pool set? Just a few shots. Show ‘em the M onroe still has it? After all this time?

THE BLONDE
YES! Give me a second, I’ll be there.

VOICE (FROM OFF)

Slip into swimsuit. I’ll tell him you’re on your way.

THE BLONDE rushes to the make-up table. She

hastily re-applies her lipstick then runs a brush
through her hair.

THE BLONDE
M onroe. After all these years. Still? Only surface. Razor thin as a mirror’s edge. They
want pure reflection. Then that’s what they’re gonna get.

THE BLONDE laughs a beautiful Monroe

giggle. Joyfully she begins to disrobe.
 35.

THE BLONDE
Goddess. Icon. Bitch. All the same name at the end. Everyone loves a happy girl. What
else would you expect from a whore?

THE BLONDE is naked. She wraps herself in a

blue bathrobe, and peers into the mirror.

THE BLONDE
A new day. A new age. Reflection is now reality. I am Norma Jeane Baker, and no one will
ever forget about me again.

THE BLONDE kisses the glass.

On May 23rd, 1962, Marylin Monroe posed for

one of her final photo sessions. She appeared
nude on the set of Fox Studio’s for LIFE
magazine. The images would appear on
more than seventy magazine covers in thirty-two
countries.

Less than three months later, Norma Jeane

Baker died of an apparent drug overdose in
Hollywood, CA.

She was thirty-six.

DARKNESS TO END