Review: WHO KILLED MARILYN? at Emerald Theatre

The real question, is whether or not I should be surprised that it was such an unwholesome disappointment. The venue has struggled to find favour with its schedule of questionable projects, which in itself is a pity given its excellent location, fun fringe-y size, and suitability for a multitude of cabaret-style formats. After this evening’s groan-fest, I fear that even the seemingly winning pairing of pint-sized pop princess Pixie Lott playing a narrator version of deceased screen legend Marilyn Monroe, will struggle to garner an audience (appreciative or otherwise).

First up, the writing. It is a golden rule, when presenting a play, that the script should attempt to show the story, not just spew details like a shopping list. If we wanted to read a pamphlet about the suspicious circumstances surrounding MM’s death, there are literally hundreds to choose from. The art of theatre, is to bring that information to life as imaginatively, creatively and as entertainingly as possible. It’s what the actors want, it’s what the punters want and when it comes to putting bums on seats, it’s certainly what the producers want. Would you believe, it is also what the critics want? Unfortunately it was in short supply on press night.

Sharleen Cooper Cohen’s book has clearly been a pet project, but has to shoulder most of the blame, for it is so dire that burial in this instance would be preferable to resuscitation. Not a moment passes without some hackneyed cliché being uttered by a pastiche, cardboard cut-out representation of the men in MM’s life, each of whom is clumsily announced just in case we don’t know who they are. Joe DiMaggio, Arthur Miller, Laurence Olivier (they suffered each other dreadfully during the making of “The Prince and the Showgirl” although the interesting details aren’t deemed worthy of mention here) and of course the terrible Kennedy twosome Jack and Bobby. Throw into that mix Eunice the dead star’s housekeeper, various hoodlums, Peter Lawford, J Edgar Hoover, the LAPD investigating officer and the pill-prescribing shrink, and the stage is awash with suits and uniforms, allowing Ms Lott to jig back and forth in her white capri pants and dinky off-the-shoulder top telling us what is going on and how it makes her feel. It’s the sort of lazy and uninspiring ‘shopping list’ approach which should be drummed out of a creative writing student during their first semester.

The direction too, by Philip Wm. McKinley relies largely upon positioning characters either side of the bed (on which Ms Monroe died / overdosed / was murdered by lethal injection, strangulation, asphyxiation, or by having one or two enemas squirted up her bum by members of the mob, as is asserted here). Entirely forgettable vignettes vapidly and rapidly come and go, with harsh flashes of light directed into the audience’s collective eyes to signify the end of each. And yet this self-indulgent vanity project still manages to feel drawn-out and overstays its welcome by at least 30 - 40 minutes. Tack onto that the 15 minute delayed start time while bemused patrons attempted to find their unnumbered seats, and the evening is one I shall quickly want to forget.

[Deep breath]. Remarkably there are some turns which deserve credit for trying to imbue character into their on stage efforts. They include Ben Dilloway, Paul Kane, Henry Proffit and Ryan Ellsworth although the dialogue they are given is largely risible and most are required to deliver little more than 2-dimensional fillers in the conspiracy theory victim-fest. Fundamentally however, they all manage to outshine Ms Lott, who ten years ago was given the opportunity to depict Holly Golightly on stage in “Breakfast at Tiffany’s”. I remember it well. And the less said about the misadventure, the better. Both then, and last evening, I would much rather have listened to her perform an acoustic set of her terrific back hits than continue in the attempt to convince us (and maybe herself?) that she is a stage actress. The evidence to the contrary was before us.

WHO KILLED MARILYN? plays (with interval) at the Emerald Theatre, Embankment, until 29th October and if you want to buy a drink at that interval, remember to call your bank and increase your credit card limit before leaving home.