Marilyn Monroe’s Defiant Wish to Re-Act in My Favorite Wife Was a Bold Statement of Self-Respect Beneath the Glamour

Marilyn Monroe’s image—immortalized in billowing white dresses, sultry glances, and luminous publicity stills—has long stood as the embodiment of Hollywood glamour. Yet, beneath that carefully curated façade lived an artist determined to be taken seriously, a woman whose true legacy is steeped in resilience, humility, and creative defiance.

Among the lesser-known revelations from archival interviews and biographies, including the 2022 documentary Marilyn, Her Final Secret, is Monroe’s stated wish to re-act in the 1940 screwball classic My Favorite Wife. That yearning found its real-world echo in her final, unfinished project, the 1962 remake Something’s Got to Give. More than a whimsical career choice, this ambition was a quiet act of rebellion—an effort to reclaim her artistry and break free from the typecasting that had long plagued her career.

Humility Born From Hardship

Monroe’s longing to revisit My Favorite Wife was not about nostalgia—it was about craft. Born Norma Jeane Mortenson in 1926, she grew up in poverty, shuffled between foster homes and an orphanage after her mother’s mental health struggles. Those formative years left her with a grounded understanding of life’s fragility, even as fame came swiftly through roles in The Asphalt Jungle and All About Eve.

By the mid-1950s, Monroe had grown weary of being Hollywood’s favorite bombshell. Dismissing certain films like River of No Return as “Z-grade cowboy movies,” she founded Marilyn Monroe Productions in 1955 to gain creative control over her career. Reinterpreting a Cary Grant–Irene Dunne romantic comedy gave her a chance to showcase emotional nuance alongside comedic timing—a combination often buried beneath the public’s obsession with her looks.

Though Something’s Got to Give never reached completion due to Monroe’s health struggles, the attempt itself was a statement: she would choose projects on her terms, even if doing so risked her standing with the studios.

Gratitude as Guiding Principle

For Monroe, honoring My Favorite Wife was also an expression of gratitude for the Hollywood storytelling that had once been her lifeline. As a child during the Great Depression, cinema had been her escape. That reverence carried into her career—whether through her admiration for Jean Harlow, her commitment to portraying layered women, or her collaborations with directors like Billy Wilder, who gave her the freedom to shine in Some Like It Hot.

Her gratitude extended beyond the screen. In 1954, she performed for 60,000 U.S. Marines in Korea during a frigid USO tour—an act that spoke volumes about her willingness to show up for others, even in grueling conditions. She also publicly acknowledged the personal growth she gained from her marriages, converting to Judaism for Arthur Miller and embracing identities she felt a kinship with, including marginalized groups.

Vulnerability as Strength

Perhaps Monroe’s most enduring nobility lay in her willingness to show the cracks in her carefully managed public image. In an era when vulnerability was considered a liability, she spoke openly about her childhood trauma, mental health battles, and desire for psychoanalysis with figures like Anna Freud.

Choosing My Favorite Wife wasn’t just about career reinvention—it was about stepping into a role that married levity with emotional resonance, a rare blend that mirrored her own contradictions: luminous yet wounded, playful yet introspective. In her hands, it could have been a reclamation of narrative, one where the “dumb blonde” label gave way to the truth of a smart, self-aware artist.

A Legacy Beyond the Blonde

Marilyn Monroe never got to complete Something’s Got to Give, but her intention to reimagine My Favorite Wife endures as a potent symbol of her fight for self-respect. It was a choice rooted in humility, gratitude, and the courage to bare her inner life—qualities that continue to inspire actors today.

Far from being just the face on a movie poster, Monroe was a woman who understood that reinvention was a form of survival. And in choosing an old Hollywood classic as her vehicle, she was telling the world that her artistry was timeless, even if her time was tragically cut short.

If you’d like, I can also prepare a sidebar profile highlighting Monroe’s key career pivots and the personal choices that shaped them, to run alongside this main piece for a richer feature package. Would you like me to do that next?