The film’s genius rests squarely on the shoulders of Michelle Williams. In a performance that earned her a Golden Globe and an Academy Award nomination, Williams does not offer a mere impersonation. She resists the breathy caricature to reveal the woman beneath the wig. Her Marilyn is a paradox: incandescently charismatic on camera, yet painfully vulnerable off it. Williams captures the whisper-to-a-shout emotional volatility, the desperate need for approval, and the profound loneliness of being trapped inside an icon. One moment she is a mischievous pixie, dancing through a field; the next, she is a trembling wreck, paralyzed by the fear of failure. It is a deeply empathetic, heartbreaking turn.
One of the joys of My Week with Marilyn is the embarrassment of riches in the supporting cast. It is a time capsule of early-2010s British acting royalty. My Week with Marilyn
: Olivier wanted a professional colleague who knew her lines; Monroe wanted to find the "truth" of her character, leading to massive friction on set. The film’s genius rests squarely on the shoulders
Branagh’s Olivier is a tour de force; he captures the exhaustion of a genius forced to stoop to commercialism, and the bitter jealousy of an actor who knows that, despite his technical mastery, he will never have what Monroe has naturally: raw, untamed movie star magnetism. Her Marilyn is a paradox: incandescently charismatic on
To Olivier, Monroe is unprofessional. To Monroe, Olivier is cold, mechanical, and terrified of vulnerability. The film beautifully illustrates how neither man is wrong. We see Monroe’s genius—when the camera rolls, electricity shoots through the room. But we also see the cost. Her need for "truth" paralyzes her. She vomits before scenes. She cannot leave her trailer.
Simon Curtis, making his feature directorial debut, wisely chooses a visual language that evokes the period without being kitschy. Cinematographer Ben Smithard bathes the film in a golden, hazy light. The English summer looks idyllic—warm, soft, and forgiving. The contrast to the harsh, black-and-white world of the tabloids is stark.
Let’s address the gravitational center of the film: Michelle Williams as Marilyn Monroe. When the casting was announced, skeptics raised eyebrows. Williams, known for her intense, quiet indie work ( Brokeback Mountain , Blue Valentine ), lacked the physical voluptuousness and explosive charisma of Monroe. How could the reserved indie queen embody the goddess of desire?
