Review: THE MARYLIN CONSPIRACY, Park Theatre

On the 5th of August 1962, one Marilyn Monroe was pronounced dead in her Los Angeles home. The cause was attributed to an overdose of barbiturates, the official time of death was ruled to be at 3:50 in the morning. Neither can actually be confirmed. Further examination revealed that she’d passed away between 8:30 and 10:30 p.m. the night before, so at least five hours had already elapsed between Marilyn’s alleged suicide and its being reported to the police, making countless conspiracy theories float around ever since.

From a Communist scheme to a Presidential cover-up, different schools of thought have classed her demise as murder of various degrees. The truth is that we’ll never know what happened, but this hasn’t stopped people from exploiting a woman posthumously, like they did when she was alive.

Memoirs, novels, and films have entered the popular canon, some better than others. The latest instalment is a play that tackles the aforementioned time discrepancy. Written by Vicki McKellar and Guy Masterson, with the latter also directing, it’s difficult not to see the piece as just another attempt at profiteering over the body of an icon who was beaten black and blue by the same ruthless industry that won’t let her rest now. McKellar and Masterson hypothesise the decisions taken to preserve her legacy and reputation before the news goes public.

This production is, as it is, frankly unnecessary, too long, and way too slow for what it really is. The characters (publicist Pat Newcomb, actor Peter Lawford and his wife Patricia Kennedy, Marilyn’s psychiatrist and his spouse, her physician, and her housekeeper) go around in circles like Masterson’s revolving stage, beating around the bush until, finally, we find out what the core of the issue is, nearly halfway through the second act. They’re all trying to protect the Kennedys: a scandal would bring down the government at a crucial point in history. The Marilyn Conspiracy turns out to be a political tryst, but it does so too late in the game for this plot twist to matter. McKellar and Masterson would have made a clearer statement if they’d focused on this from the beginning. Nevertheless, it’s not all bad, and the project features a few impressive performances and a gorgeous set.

Genevieve Gaunt portrays Marilyn as a pouty and doe-eyed sex symbol who hyperventilates as easily as she manipulates. She is, however, a woman who doesn’t have much control over any aspect of her life. It’s an intense, tortured performance, haunted by the ghost of Marilyn as well as all the depictions that have preceded hers. Though it’s impossible to craft an act where the performer - whoever it may be - simply mimics and impersonates the superstar, Gaunt holds her own. Her timeline shifts with every scene change, the revolve spinning clockwise during the postmortem and counterclockwise during the run-up to Marilyn’s alleged suicide. It’s a conventional, immediate move from Masterson; it might not be anything new, but why fix it if it ain’t broke?

The extended slogs where Marilyn’s associates vacillate and squabble over what to do bring on another conversation on the trappings of Hollywood, a place where reputation, public opinion, and public image are clearly more important than reporting the death of a friend and finding the cause. The dialogue can be either empty and flat, or so full of exposition and information that couldn’t be further away from naturalism. Every once in a while, the situation heats up and we’re finally gripped. Though each pause comes off as slightly too calculated (and not in any Pinteresque way) and many movements too stiff, we find ourselves captivated by the morbid curiosity we share with the people on stage.

These instances of passion belong to a bona fide thriller or a very chic noir, in direct opposition to the multiple scenes where they try to solve the mystery of her demise as if they belonged inside a fancy game of Cluedo (Bobby Kennedy in the guesthouse with an enema has quite a ring to it). Susie Amy and Declan Bennet cut through the overdone stiffness as Pat Newcomb and Peter Lawford, delivering credible performances. Where Amy is personable and emotional, Bennet permeates his portrayal in level-headed selfishness. Their dynamic jolts us awake even in the dullest of moments while the cast keeps hovering and buzzing over Sally Mortemore’s meek yet all-seeing housekeeper, drilling into her the urgency of having to control and anticipate any developments. It’s a shame McKellar and Masterson make the political vein pop so late, it would have been interesting to see this side of the story explored.

The action unfolds in the round (a rare occasion for the Park) - were this a meticulously built show that swelled with energy and suspicion, this choice would heighten and exploit the innate voyeurism of the circumstances. Sarah June Mills designs an exquisite, warm, mid-century modern environment for Marilyn. Vintage furniture with a burnt cream palette becomes a playground for the complementing colour scheme of the costumes. It’s a beautiful look, but it can’t save the creaky script, or the irrelevant nuances of the narrative, or the generally sluggish direction. Does all of this even matter? After all, “It’s all make believe, isn’t it?

The Marilyn Conspiracy runs at the Park Theatre until 27 July.

Photo credit: NUX Photography

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