For Michelle Williams, an Unfamiliar Role

HERE is 45 minutes in my life. Actually, 58 minutes 50 seconds, according to the counter on my tape recorder when I finish my conversation with the actress Michelle Williams in the bar of the Bull and Bear Steakhouse in the Waldorf-Astoria, and her publicist, a harried-looking woman named Cari, whisks her away. A bottle of red wine sits unfinished on the table. I pay the check for my $30 hamburger — she wanted only cocktail nuts — and for the glass of wine I ordered while I was waiting for her, and my thoughts skip a beat, releasing me from the scene

She came across the bar toward the corner table and stuck out her hand: “Hi, I’m Michelle.” She’d come from a room upstairs, where she was doing interviews for “My Week With Marilyn,” a Weinstein production set in England in 1956 when Marilyn Monroe was making “The Prince and the Showgirl” with Laurence Olivier.

Ms. Williams, her hair restored to a pixie cut after Marilyn’s goddess curls, did not remove her tweed coat, and it gaped at the neck when she sat down, making her look even smaller than she is. She shook her head when a waiter asked if she wanted something.

“I would have a glass of wine but I’ll fall asleep,” she said with a light laugh. “I’m usually a partake