Blonde

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Mother has a surprise for you

waiting up ahead.

A surprise?

A birthday surprise.

Norma Jeane. Look.

That man is your father.

My father?

He's my father?

Look. Your father.

His name is a beautiful name.

And an important name.

But it's a name I can't utter.

No!

You mustn't touch with sticky fingers.

So no one knows.

And no one must know,

even that you've seen this.

There are complications

in both our lives, you see?

When you were born,

your father was far away.

He's at a great distance, even now,

and I worry for his safety.

But in our hearts, we're wed.

We're husband and wife.

Though we scorn convention

and will not acquiesce to it.

But where is he?

Mmm. My hands are shaking.

Is this room vibrating?

In California, you… can't tell

what's "real" and what's "just yourself."

Looks delicious, doesn't it?

So you don't drool on my cover.

Do you remember, Norma Jeane,

who used to sleep here?

In this drawer? Do you remember?

You!

You, Norma Jeane!

You slept right in this very drawer.

We were so poor,

this drawer was your crib.

But it was good enough for us, wasn't it?

I love you, Norma Jeane.

And one day,

I will return to Los Angeles to claim you.

Norma Jeane? Norma Jeane?

Norma Jeane, honey. Wake up!

Wake up!

Come on. Up, up! Let's go!

- I'm tired.

- Come with me.

Okay.

Stop squirming like

a little snake needing to pee.

Mother? What if the house burns down?

I forgot my tiger.

That toy.

Go back!

Oh God. Oh God.

Oh God, I can't see a f***ing thing.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!

Hey!

What the hell are you doing?

We've been invited to a private residence

at the top of Laurel Canyon.

The owner has a fireproof mansion.

My daughter and I will be safe there.

I can't say this man's name, officer,

but it's a name you all know.

He's a titan in the industry.

This little girl is his daughter.

This is a city of sand,

nothing will long endure,

but we are going.

Ma'am, go home.

Put your little girl to bed, okay?

It's late.

Actually, officer,

I'd like to see hell close-up.

A preview.

Ma'am, you need to turn around.

I can give you an escort

if you need one, but this is an order.

If you don't turn around,

I'll have to put you under arrest.

Under arrest for driving my car?

I'm sorry, officer.

Please don't arrest me.

I wish you would shoot me.

Lady, look, go home, okay?

You're drunk, you're doped up,

and no one's got time for this tonight.

You're saying things

to get you into trouble.

Come on. Go.

Mother? Was he here?

My father? All this time?

Why didn't he come to see us?

What? What?

It's too hot.

Norma Jeane, get in the bath.

Be a good girl and get in the bath.

- It's too hot.

- Get in the bath!

Good girl. Good girl. Okay.

Because she loved the child

and wished to spare her grief.

Because the child

was her own secret self, exposed.

Because the very father

of the child had wished it not to be born.

Because he had given her money,

scattering bills across the bed.

Because he told her

he had never loved her.

She had misunderstood.

Because before the pregnancy,

he had loved her.

And after, he had not.

Because he would have married her.

She was certain.

Because no one

could love a child so accursed.

It's because of you!

You're the reason he went away!

He didn't want you!

Help! Help us!

Help! Help us!

Help, my mother's sick!

- Norma Jeane?

- Help my mother.

Clive, bring her in. Cover her.

Come here.

Come here, Norma Jeane.

- There's something wrong with your mother?

- She needs help.

She needs help?

You come inside with me, Norma Jeane.

You wait right here. Okay?

You just stay with me.

You're okay. You're okay now.

You're safe, Norma Jeane.

Your mama's well enough

to see you now, Norma Jeane.

Your mama's been askin' for you.

The doctors say she's well enough

for you to visit her.

Shall we go?

Where is she?

She's in the hospital in Norwalk.

Sh… she's better now?

Well, she's well enough

for you to visit with her.

Uncle Clive is gonna take us in the car.

And I'm gonna put a few things

in a suitcase for you.

You don't have to do anything.

Okay.

Please forgive me, Norma Jeane.

There's no other place for you right now.

Your mother is sick.

The doctors say that she is very sick.

She tried to hurt you.

She can't be a mother to you just now.

I can't be a mother to you just now.

But I'm not an orphan.

I have a mother, and I have a father.

I'm not an orphan.

My father is coming home soon.

He promised.

Come on now, Norma Jeane.

Come on. Be a good girl. Be a good girl.

No!

Please, Norma Jeane? Please?

- No! I'm not an orphan!

- Stop it! Come on!

Come on! Please be a good girl.

I am not an orphan!

At least bring in

the suitcases, Clive, damn you!

My father

is coming back soon! He promised!

No. Stop it!

Stop crying! Stop!

The circle of light is yours.

It's a circle of light and attention.

You enclose yourself in the circle.

You carry it with you wherever you go.

You're going to imagine

that next to your own real body,

is the imaginary body of your character,

whom you've created with your mind.

Daddy, I couldn't imagine what to wear.

You look fine.

Are you sure?

I mean, I'm so jumpy.

Just don't be late

for your appointment at 5:00.

As if I would be late. My God.

Don't you see, Norma Jeane?

The future is in the palm of your hand.

Marilyn Monroe for Mr. Z?

"Imagine, to know every night

that differing hundreds of people

love you."

"They want you."

"You belong."

"Just that alone is worth anything."

"You carry it with you wherever you go."

"The circle of light is yours."

You don't have to read.

I don't understand.

You're in. You're cast.

If your name is Marilyn Monroe.

Yes, that's me.

But I don't understand.

Do you see that man?

That's Max Fabian, the producer.

Now go and do yourself some good.

Why do they always look

like unhappy rabbits?

'Cause that's what they are.

Now go and make him happy.

It's all right, Norma Jeane.

Come back, Norma Jeane.

Come back here, Norma Jeane.

Hey. It's okay.

It's okay.

It's all right, Norma Jeane.

Hey. Everything's all right.

Norma Jeane?

What were you thinking of?

I wasn't thinking.

Um, maybe…

…I was remembering?

I… I read the script, the whole script.

It's, um…

such a strange, disturbing story.

This mentally unbalanced woman

almost killing a little girl.

Like a novel by Dostoyevsky,

where you feel sympathy for the criminal

and don't wish to see her punished.

Oh, you've read Dostoyevsky,

have you, honey?

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