They Were Dying, Part 5 of 7

(Director John Huston had, previously to this shoot, killed an elephant under controversial circumstances. Here he discusses his cast and crew. "Wallaby" is his nickname for Eli Wallach.) White Hunter, Black Heart She had no technique. If anyone ever tells you Marilyn Monroe was crafty, they don't know what they're saying. What she did was naked truth. What she gave was Marilyn. But it was quite a gift. There was something luminous, something beautiful beyond looks, voluptuous divinity: a wistfulness about her. She was every girl you ever loved, or ever hoped to love. Mortally injured in some way which no-one understood, convinced of her own unworthiness, she was checking out - not just of my film, but of life itself. The Jewish guy? How can you be so smart and still not understand? You don't conquer women by being kind. Dumb highbrow. So, they're giving presents with divorces now? Nevada is the "leave it" state. Come here, park your marriage. I'll be glad to leave it. Making a film - what's that? It's leaving behind your loneliness for a little while, and making an ersatz little world where you can, perhaps, believe that you share a thing. You put a frame around it, then move on. You do that till you die. That's all there is. The nineteen sixties now: I've seen enough. Boxer, prospector, horse trooper, man: I've done all I can. I've painted with light. The heat has been fierce, but it's awful cold at night. Like Wallaby says, I'm an eagle tired of flight: how do I land?