Friday 7 October 2022 10:40 PM SARAH VINE's My TV Week: Netflix's Blonde is mesmerisingly sad and beautiful... ... trends now
BLONDE, NETFLIX
Rating: 
An on-screen rendering of Joyce Carol Oates’s fictional – and I stress the word fictional here – biography of Marilyn Monroe, Blonde has caused quite a controversy. It has been criticised for its brutal sex scenes, and also for its relentlessly downbeat portrayal of the life of a woman who, 60 years after her death, is still revered as an icon.
It's about how the monster she created finally consumed her
In actual fact, director Andrew Dominik’s film couldn’t, in my opinion, be more apposite. It is achingly, mesmerisingly beautiful – yet filled with so much sadness it’s almost painful to watch. Like Marilyn herself.
This is the story of a lost, lonely, abused and frightened child who grew up to be one of the most famous, most desired women on the planet – but who in her heart never escaped her past.
In Blonde, Marilyn is not a real person, she’s an avatar for Norma Jeane Mortenson, a suit of armour made of coquettish kisses and breathless sighs, a vessel for men’s lust, a slave to Hollywood’s money-making machine.
Marilyn Monroe biopic Blonde has caused quite a controversy. It has been criticised for its brutal sex scenes, and also for its relentlessly downbeat portrayal of the life of a woman who, 60 years after her death, is still revered as an icon. Pictured: Ana de Armas as Marilyn Monroe
The story here is how Norma Jeane tried, and failed, to outrun Marilyn, how the monster she created eventually consumed her. It may, of course, be utter baloney as a concept, but that doesn’t mean it’s not worth watching.
There are, it is true, several very uncomfortable sex scenes and in particular two – one at the start of the film, one at the end – that are agony.
It’s nothing to do with nudity (although there’s plenty of nudity elsewhere); it’s the fact that they’re so brutal and so soul-destroying in their nature they make the heart weep for her. Which is kind of the point.
Sarah (pictured) says director Andrew Dominik’s film is achingly, mesmerisingly beautiful – yet filled with so much sadness it’s almost painful to watch. Like Marilyn herself
Ana de Armas delivers a captivating performance as the doomed Norma Jeane (above), all quivering lips and liquid eyes. The camera loves her as much as it ever loved Marilyn, and she conveys that childlike quality Marilyn had – a quality that was key to her appeal, and yet also deeply disturbing – brilliantly.
The more the spotlight shines on Marilyn, the more Norma Jeane seeks dark places in which to hide, and Armas navigates that journey utterly convincingly.
There are few good men in this film. Marilyn’s make-up artist, Allan ‘Whitey’ Snyder, is one; her third husband, the playwright Arthur Miller, who is blindsided by her insights (much is made of Norma Jeane’s intellectual aspirations, and her desire to be taken seriously as an actress) is another.
Everyone else is a predator in
