Monologues

[The_Return]

Hey

I have to bring a monologue to a class I have tonight, just wondered what some of your favourite monologues were?

I have a couple in mind, but am still open to suggestions. The instructor said we could get them from movies, books, plays - where ever. He said they didnt have to be really long or anything, between like 30 secinds and a couple minutes.

[Master]

Hey

I have to bring a monologue to a class I have tonight, just wondered what some of your favourite monologues were?

I have a couple in mind, but am still open to suggestions. The instructor said we could get them from movies, books, plays - where ever. He said they didnt have to be really long or anything, between like 30 secinds and a couple minutes.


I'd recommend one from American Psycho. Google in "Colin's Movie Monologues", you'll find them there. Thank me later.

[Master]

American Psycho
written by Mary Harron & Guinevere Turner, from the novel by Bret Easton Ellis




Patrick Bateman: Do you like Phil Collins? I've been a big Genesis fan ever since the release of their 1980 album, Duke. Before that, I really didn't understand any of their work. Too artsy, too intellectual. It was on Duke where, uh, Phil Collins' presence became more apparent. I think Invisible Touch was the group's undisputed masterpiece. It's an epic meditation on intangibility. At the same time, it deepens and enriches the meaning of the preceding three albums. Christy, take off your robe. Listen to the brilliant ensemble playing of Banks, Collins and Rutherford. You can practically hear every nuance of every instrument. Sabrina, remove your dress. In terms of lyrical craftsmanship, the sheer songwriting, this album hits a new peak of professionalism. Sabrina, why don't you, uh, dance a little. Take the lyrics to Land of Confusion. In this song, Phil Collins addresses the problems of abusive political authority. In Too Deep is the most moving pop song of the 1980s, about monogamy and commitment. The song is extremely uplifting. Their lyrics are as positive and affirmative as, uh, anything I've heard in rock. Christy, get down on your knees so Sabrina can see your ass. Phil Collins' solo career seems to be more commercial and therefore more satisfying, in a narrower way. Especially songs like In the Air Tonight and, uh, Against All Odds. Sabrina, don't just stare at it, eat it. But I also think Phil Collins works best within the confines of the group, than as a solo artist, and I stress the word artist. This is Sussudio, a great, great song, a personal favorite.

[newb]

Pulp Fiction

Jules: Well there's this passage I got memorized. Ezekiel 25:17. "The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the inequities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men. Blessed is he who, in the name of charity and good will, shepherds the weak through the valley of the darkness. For he is truly his brother's keeper and the finder of lost children. And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who attempt to poison and destroy my brothers. And you will know I am the Lord when I lay my vengeance upon you." I been sayin' that shit for years. And if you ever heard it, it meant your ass. I never gave much thought what it meant. I just thought it was some cold-blooded shit to say to a motherfucker before I popped a cap in his ass. I saw some shit this mornin' made me think twice. See now I'm thinkin', maybe it means you're the evil man. And I'm the righteous man. And Mr. 9 Milimeter here, he's the shepherd protecting my righteous ass in the valley of darkness. Or it could mean you're the righteous man and I'm the shepherd and it's the world that's evil and selfish. Now I'd like that. But that shit ain't the truth. The truth is you're the weak. And I'm the tyranny of evil men. But I'm tryin', Ringo. I'm tryin' real hard to be a shepherd.

[newb]

Dr. Strangelove

Major T. J. "King" Kong: Well, boys, I reckon this is it -- nuclear combat toe to toe with the Rooskies. Now look, boys, I ain't much of a hand at makin' speeches, but I got a pretty fair idea that something doggone important is goin' on back there. And I got a fair idea the kinda personal emotions that some of you fellas may be thinkin'. Heck, I reckon you wouldn't even be human bein's if you didn't have some pretty strong personal feelin's about nuclear combat. I want you to remember one thing, the folks back home is a-countin' on you and by golly, we ain't about to let 'em down. I tell you something else, if this thing turns out to be half as important as I figure it just might be, I'd say that you're all in line for some important promotions and personal citations when this thing's over with. That goes for ever' last one of you regardless of your race, color or your creed. Now let's get this thing on the hump-- we got some flyin' to do.

[newb]

Christmas Vacation

Clark Griswold: Where do you think you're going? Nobody's leaving. Nobody's walking out on this fun, old-fashioned family Christmas. No, no! We're all in this together. This is a full-blown, four-alarm holiday emergency here! We're gonna press on, and we're gonna have the hap, hap, happiest Christmas since Bing Crosby tap-danced with Danny fucking Kaye! And when Santa squeezes his fat white ass down that chimney tonight, he's gonna find the jolliest bunch of assholes this side of the nuthouse!

[zwoti]

Pulp Fiction



Captain Koons: Hello, little man. Boy, I sure heard a bunch about you. See, I was a good friend of your dad's. We were in that Hanoi pit of hell together over five years. Hopefully...you'll never have to experience this yourself, but when two men are in a situation like me and your Dad were, for as long as we were, you take on certain responsibilities of the other. If it had been me who had not made it, Major Coolidge would be talkin' right now to my son Jim. But the way it turned out is I'm talkin' to you, Butch. I got somethin' for you.
(The Captain sits down and pulls a gold wrist watch from his pocket)
This watch I got here was first purchased by your great-grandfather during the first World War. It was bought in a little general store in Knoxville, Tennessee. Made by the first company to ever make wrist watches. Up till then people just carried pocket watches. It was bought by private Doughboy Erine Coolidge on the day he set sail for Paris. It was your great-grandfather's war watch and he wore it everyday he was in that war. When he had done his duty, he went home to your great-grandmother, took the watch off, put it an old coffee can, and in that can it stayed 'til your granddad Dane Coolidge was called upon by his country to go overseas and fight the Germans once again. This time they called it World War II. Your great-grandfather gave this watch to your granddad for good luck. Unfortunately, Dane's luck wasn't as good as his old man's. Dane was a Marine and he was killed -- along with the other Marines at the battle of Wake Island. Your granddad was facing death, he knew it. None of those boys had any illusions about ever leavin' that island alive. So three days before the Japanese took the island, your granddad asked a gunner on an Air Force transport name of Winocki, a man he had never met before in his life, to deliver to his infant son, who he'd never seen in the flesh, his gold watch. Three days later, your granddad was dead. But Winocki kept his word. After the war was over, he paid a visit to your grandmother, delivering to your infant father, his Dad's gold watch. This watch. (holds it up, long pause) This watch was on your Daddy's wrist when he was shot down over Hanoi. He was captured, put in a Vietnamese prison camp. He knew if the gooks ever saw the watch it'd be confiscated, taken away. The way your Dad looked at it, that watch was your birthright. He'd be damned if any slopes were gonna put their greasy yella hands on his boy's birthright. So he hid it in the one place he knew he could hide something. His ass. Five long years, he wore this watch up his ass. Then he died of dysentery, he gave me the watch. I hid this uncomfortable hunk of metal up my ass two years. Then, after seven years, I was sent home to my family. And now, little man, I give the watch to you.

[pinkerton]

Listen kid, I'm not gonna bullshit you, all right? I don't give a good fuck what you know, or don't know, but I'm gonna torture you anyway, regardless. Not to get information. It's amusing, to me, to torture a cop. You can say anything you want cause I've heard it all before. All you can do is pray for a quick death, which you ain't gonna get.

[Despare]

Mentioned this one a while back (what happened to the best speeches thread?).

Mr. Deeds Goes to Town:

"From what I can see, no matter what system of government we have, there will always be leaders and always be followers. It's like the road out in front of my house. It's on a steep hill. Every day I watch the cars climbing up. Some go lickety-split up that hill on high, some have to shift into second, and some sputter and shake and slip back to the bottom again. Same cars, same gasoline, yet some make it and some don't. And I say the fellas who can make the hill on high should stop once in a while and help those who can't. That's all I'm trying to do with this money. Help the fellas who can't make the hill on high."

Bubba Ho-Tep is good too but probably not appropriate heh.

"I was dreamin'. Dreamin' my dick was out and I was checking to see if that infected bump on the head of it had filled with pus again. If it had, I was gonna name that bump after my ex-wife Priscilla and bust it by jackin' off. Oh, man. Or I'd like to think that's what I'd do. Dreams let you think like that. Truth was, I hadn't had a hard-on in years. Oh, man. My God, man. How long have I been here? Am I really awake now, or am I just dreamin' I'm awake? How could my plans have gone so wrong? When the hell are they gonna serve lunch? Considerin' what they serve, why the hell do I care? If Priscilla discovered I was alive, would she come and see me? Would we still wanna fuck? Or would we merely have to talk about it? Is there, finally and really, anything to life other than food, shit, and sex? Well, goddamnit... How could I have gone from the "King of rock and roll"to this? Old guy in a rest home in East Texas with a growth on his pecker. And what is that growth, man? Cancer? Nobody's talkin'. No one seems to know... or wants to."

[Roderick Usher]

Always loved this one, it's chilling

True Romance
Virgil (James Gandolfini) to Alabama (Patricia Arquette)

"Now the first time you kill somebody, that's the hardest. I don't give a shit if you're fuckin' Wyatt Earp or Jack the Ripper. Remember that guy in Texas? The guy up in that fuckin' tower that killed all them people? I'll bet you green money that first little black dot he took a bead on, that was the bitch of the bunch. First one is tough, no fuckin' foolin'. The second one... the second one ain't no fuckin' Mardis Gras either, but it's better than the first one 'cause you still feel the same thing, y'know... except it's more diluted, y'know it's... it's better. I threw up on the first one, you believe that? Then the third one... the third one is easy, you level right off. It's no problem. Now... shit... now I do it just to watch their fuckin' expression change. "

[Elvis_Christ]

:D Thought there'd be lots of Tarantino in this thread.

My favorite one recentley is from Palindromes:

Mark Wiener: People always end up the way they started out. No one ever changes. They think they do but they don't. If you're the depressed type now that's the way you'll always be. If you're the mindless happy type now, that's the way you'll be when you grow up. You might lose some weight, your face may clear up, get a body tan, breast enlargement, a sex change, it makes no difference. Essentially, from in front, from behind. Whether you're 13 or 50, you will always be the same.
Aviva Victor: Are you the same?
Mark Wiener: Yeah.
Aviva Victor: Are you glad you're the same?
Mark Wiener: It doesn't matter if I'm glad. There's no freewill. I mean, I have no choice but to chose what I choose, to do as I do, to live as I live. Ultimately, we're all just robots programmed abritrarily by nature's genetic code
Aviva Victor: Isn't there any hope?
Mark Wiener: For what? We hope or despair because of the way we've been programmed. Genes and randomness, that's all there is and none of it matters.
Aviva Victor: Does that mean you're never going get married and have children?
Mark Wiener: I have no anent desire to get married or have kids. But that's beyond my control. Really, it makes no difference. Since the planet's fast running out of natural resources and we won't make it into the next century.
Aviva Victor: What if you're wrong? What if there is a God?
Mark Wiener: That makes me feel better.

[Haunted]

Hey

I have to bring a monologue to a class I have tonight, just wondered what some of your favourite monologues were?

I have a couple in mind, but am still open to suggestions. The instructor said we could get them from movies, books, plays - where ever. He said they didnt have to be really long or anything, between like 30 secinds and a couple minutes.

Are you at a university/college, because if not, I really wouldn't recommend these, as cool and brilliant as they are. You know how the school systems are. You'll end up getting eye-balled and possibly shrieked at by your insanely liberal assed teachers who think you're trying to encite violence, earning a trip to the guidance counselor... Or maybe all of this just happens in the South, not sure.

We couldn't even get permission to do scenes from Monty Python, as they were scene as too risque.

It's a sad world when drama students can't attempt the work of some very powerful artists.

The great monolouge from Henry V (Shakespeare) would be great, but who wants to do that anymore. You know, because the monolouge from Dr. Strangelove is awesom and completely thought provoaking for this age, but you know how the assholes in charge think: If you question, you're a subversive. Not saying that you picked a monolouge with those intentions, but an idiot will put words in your mouth any chance it gets.

Maybe a very creatively (diabolicaly under their nose and over their head) worked medly would work.

I don't know. It's tricky. Some thesbians:D :D and I got into some trouble back our day.

[ShankS]

I am Proximo! I shall be closer to you for the next few days, which will be the last of your miserable lives, than that bitch of a mother who first brought you screaming into this world! I did not pay good money for your company. I paid it so that I might profit from your death. And just as your mother was there at your beginning, I shall be there at your end. And when you die - and die you shall - your transition will be to the sound of... [claps his hands]

Gladiators... I salute you.

[ShankS]

They say most of your brain shuts down in cryo-sleep. All but the primitive side, the animal side. No wonder I'm still awake. Transporting me with civilians. Sounded like 40, 40-plus. Heard an Arab voice. Some hoodoo holy man, probably on his way to New Mecca. But what route? What route? I smelt a woman. Sweat, boots, tool belt, leather. Prospector type. Free settlers. And they only take the back roads. And here's my real problem. Mr. Johns... the blue-eyed devil. Planning on taking me back to slam... only this time he picked a ghost lane. A long time between stops. A long time for something to go wrong...

[ShankS]

Dear Clarice, I have followed with enthusiasm the course of your disgrace and public shaming. My own never bothered me except for the inconvenience of being incarcerated, but you may lack perspective. In our discussions down in the dungeon it was apparent to me that your father, the dead night watchman, figures largely in your value system. I think your success in putting an end to Jame Gumb's career as a couturier pleased you most because you could imagine your father being pleased. But now, alas, you're in bad odour with the FBI. Do you imagine your daddy being shamed by your disgrace? Do you see him in his plain pine box crushed by your failure; a sorry, petty end of a promising career? What is worst about this humiliation Clarice? Is it how your failure will reflect on your mommy and daddy? Is your worst fear that people will now and forever believe they were indeed just good old trailer camp tornado bait white trash and that perhaps you are too? By the way I couldn't help noticing on the FBI's rather dull public website that I have been hoisted from the Bureau's archives of the common criminal and elevated to the more prestigious 10 Most Wanted list. Is this coincidence, or are you back on the case? If so, goody goody, cause I need to come out of retirement and return to public life. I imagine you sitting in a dark basement room bent over papers and computer screens. Is that accurate? Please tell me truly, Special Agent Starling. Regards, your old pal Hannibal Lecter, M.D. P.S. Clearly this new assignment is not your choice rather I suppose it is a part of the bargain but you accepted it Clarice. Your job is to craft my doom. So I am not sure how well I should wish you but I'm sure we'll have a lot of fun. Tata, H.

[ShankS]

I met him, fifteen years ago. I was told there was nothing left. No reason, no conscience, no understanding; even the most rudimentary sense of life or death, good or evil, right or wrong. I met this six-year-old child, with this blank, pale, emotionless face and, the blackest eyes... the *devil's* eyes! I spent eight years trying to reach him, and then another seven trying to keep him locked up because I realized what was living behind that boy's eyes was purely and simply... evil!