My introduction to the wonders of Marilyn Monroe was of quite a different order. This was in a beautiful new-release Cinemascope movie called River of No Return, and I believe I am one of the few people left in the world who cares for it. It gets marked down heavily because Monroe fans (a gigantic majority) hate it. And rightly so—the poor woman is hopelessly miscast, totally unsuited to rugged outdoor adventures, her character is bland and she had no chemistry with Robert Mitchum whatsoever. Apparently, he despised her unprofessional antics, and it showed. But I love it, because, unbelievably, I managed to watch it and completely ignore Marilyn.
    This needs some explanation. You have to remember that this was a rare object in those days—a realistic adult adventure story of a nine-year-old boy’s relationship with his flawed and  yet perfect dad, told from the boy’s point of view. And I was nine years old when I saw it. So, to me, Monroe was just some blonde sheila stuck in the movie to do the yucky kissing bits, and all the good stuff happened around her.
    You ought to try it. Watch the movie and ignore Monroe. Of course it can’t be done but the experiment is fun. What you’ll see is a magnificent adventure story shot against heart-stopping scenery; a stunning performance by Mitchum as the dad every boy dreams of, Rory Calhoun throwing in a charming villain and then there’s those angelic voices singing the great theme song from impossibly far off in the mountains. And what would have been a great movie is totally wrecked by the presence of Monroe. She draws the eye whenever she appears and has you continually looking at all the wrong bits of the screen. As happened in real life, so here too Marilyn was her own worst enemy.