As many will point out, My Week with Marilyn is told from the least interesting perspective. The film isn’t a biopic of Miss Marilyn Monroe – something that’s more than welcomed in a world clouded by interchangeable bios – but a coming-of-age tale of a naive chump.

Underneath the never-going-to-happen non-love story between the protagonist Colin Clark, played finely by Eddie Redmayne, and Monroe (Michelle Williams) is a far more profound film about a battle of actors. The “week” with Marilyn takes place during the chaotic shoot of The Prince and the Showgirl. During the production Monroe, coming in from a changing America, does not see eye-to-eye with the more classical and respectable Sir Laurence Olivier (Kenneth Branagh), who’s also starring in the film.

The blonde and emotionally damaged bombshell never quite gels with the old-school British acting ways of Olivier. In an attempt to be taken more seriously as an actress, Monroe turns to more untraditional acting methods. Unlike the Olivier in this film, she lacks a lick of confidence in herself.

She’ll delay shoots and won’t show up on time, so she can “find the character.” Rather than confiding in her fickle and frustrated director, she turns to Colin for some fun, who foolishly believes Marilyn’s interest is something special. Olivier and Monroe are portrayed as perfectionists, but the former is far more respectable than the other.

And while it’s easy to find sympathy for Monroe, the eyes of the world watching her every move, she’s also frustrating to watch at times. That’s not a slant against the film, since the character in her more vulnerable moments is not meant to be the charming face she fakes, but there’s no chance a viewer will come out of this film not siding with Olivier in their artistic struggles. There is no middle-ground over who is the more professional, likable and talented.

The same goes for the actors, who’re portraying these famous performers. It’s a tough line to walk, between doing an impersonation and creating an actual character. Branagh walks that line without a hitch as the comical and relatably-frustrated Olivier. He’s the true star of this film, and it’s the type of performance one yearns for the film to focus on. Sadly, Williams, who in the past few years has given fully living and breathing performances, does slip into impersonation. At times she shows her best side, but there’s plenty of moments where one can see the “strings” behind the performance. Williams’ acting is seen more than her embodiment of Monroe. Instead of capturing the realism Branagh gets, there’s a calculation to her performance.

Calculative is a suitable way of describing My Week with Marilyn. The structure is an unwieldy yarn that hits all the beats one would expect the story to safely hit. The script even manages to rush a few of the beats and throw engaging side characters to the side. Julia Ormond, playing Olivier’s wife, and Emma Watson as Lucy, a girl Colin blows off, have virtually nothing to work off of. Both characters contain a potentially interesting thematic: they are both far more appealing than Monroe. Sadly, this is brushed over in the brisk 99 minute run time.

Somehow, through the obvious problems at hand, the film still finds an undeniable charm. Branagh’s memorable performance, the depiction of creative frustration, director Simon Curtis all consistently add a vibrant life to the picture making the less endearing moments tolerable.

My Week with Marilyn is now in limited release.

Grade: B

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