Favorite Monologue(s)

[iamlove]

Okay, here's the low-down. I've been practicing for an audition where I have to act out two two-minute-long monologues. Being a movie junkie, this has been incredibly stressful, since there are literally HUNDREDS of great monologues, both in film and on stage(including Shakespeare, one of my all-time favorite writers).

Amidst my search for the best monologues, I have garnered an even greater appreciation for them.

I was wondering, since I know there are plenty of movie junkies running about on this site, what do you consider to be your favorite monologue from a film, television show, or play? You can post more than one, naturally.

I want to also say, I am not doing this to find a monologue to use. I am still searching, but feel confident with what I have rounded it down to. I just want to see everyone else's opinions on their favorites and to understand what makes them like their choice(s) so much.

For those of you who aren't educated in what a monologue is: it is a long, uninterrupted speech from a character in a script. I don't care how long or short is, post it if it makes you feel good.

(NOTE: I know this is a horror movie site, but, please people, let's not try and limit this to just horror films. I really want to see some diversity here.)

I have way too many to give out in just one post, so I will start off with something great and intense: Edward Norton as Monty in The 25th Hour. I like to call it the "Fuck You" Monologue.

(Monty walks into the bathroom. He looks in the mirror. In the bottom corner, someone's written Fuck You!)
Monty: Yeah, fuck you, too.
Monty's Reflection: Fuck me? Fuck you! Fuck you and this whole city and everyone in it.
Fuck the panhandlers, grubbing for money, and smiling at me behind my back.
Fuck squeegee men dirtying up the clean windshield of my car. Get a fucking job!
Fuck the Sikhs and the Pakistanis bombing down the avenues in decrepit cabs, curry steaming out their pores and stinking up my day. Terrorists in fucking training. Slow the fuck down!
Fuck the Chelsea boys with their waxed chests and pumped up biceps. Going down on each other in my parks and on my piers, jingling their dicks on my Channel 35.
Fuck the Korean grocers with their pyramids of overpriced fruit and their tulips and roses wrapped in plastic. Ten years in the country, still no speaky English?
Fuck the Russians in Brighton Beach. Mobster thugs sitting in cafés, sipping tea in little glasses, sugar cubes between their teeth. Wheelin' and dealin' and schemin'. Go back where you fucking came from!
Fuck the black-hatted Chassidim, strolling up and down 47th street in their dirty gabardine with their dandruff. Selling South African apartheid diamonds!
Fuck the Wall Street brokers. Self-styled masters of the universe. Michael Douglas, Gordon Gecko wannabe mother fuckers, figuring out new ways to rob hard working people blind. Send those Enron assholes to jail for fucking life! You think Bush and Cheney didn't know about that shit? Give me a fucking break! Tyco! Imclone! Adelphia! Worldcom!
Fuck the Puerto Ricans. 20 to a car, swelling up the welfare rolls, worst fuckin' parade in the city. And don't even get me started on the Dom-in-i-cans, because they make the Puerto Ricans look good.
Fuck the Bensonhurst Italians with their pomaded hair, their nylon warm-up suits, and their St. Anthony medallions. Swinging their, Jason Giambi, Louisville slugger, baseball bats, trying to audition for the Sopranos.
Fuck the Upper East Side wives with their Hermés scarves and their fifty-dollar Balducci artichokes. Overfed faces getting pulled and lifted and stretched, all taut and shiny. You're not fooling anybody, sweetheart!
Fuck the uptown brothers. They never pass the ball, they don't want to play defense, they take fives steps on every lay-up to the hoop. And then they want to turn around and blame everything on the white man. Slavery ended one hundred and thirty seven years ago. Move the fuck on!
Fuck the corrupt cops with their anus violating plungers and their 41 shots, standing behind a blue wall of silence. You betray our trust!
Fuck the priests who put their hands down some innocent child's pants. Fuck the church that protects them, delivering us into evil. And while you're at it, fuck JC! He got off easy! A day on the cross, a weekend in hell, and all the hallelujahs of the legioned angels for eternity! Try seven years in fuckin Otisville, Jay!
Fuck Osama bin Laden, al-Qaeda, and backward-ass, cave-dwelling, fundamentalist assholes everywhere. On the names of innocent thousands murdered, I pray you spend the rest of eternity with your seventy-two whores roasting in a jet-fueled fire in hell. You towel headed camel jockeys can kiss my royal, Irish ass!
Fuck Jacob Elinski, whining malcontent.
Fuck Francis Xavier Slaughtery, my best friend, judging me while he stares at my girlfriend's ass.
Fuck Naturel Rivera. I gave her my trust and she stabbed me in the back. Sold me up the river. Fucking bitch.
Fuck my father with his endless grief, standing behind that bar. Sipping on club soda, selling whiskey to firemen and cheering the Bronx Bombers.
Fuck this whole city and everyone in it. From the row houses of Astoria to the penthouses on Park Avenue. From the projects in the Bronx to the lofts in Soho. From the tenements in Alphabet City to the brownstones in Park slope to the split levels in Staten Island. Let an earthquake crumble it. Let the fires rage. Let it burn to fuckin ash then let the waters rise and submerge this whole, rat-infested place.
Monty: No. No, fuck you, Montgomery Brogan. You had it all and then you threw it away, you dumb fuck!
(He takes a breath and tries to rub away the words.)

There is also scenes where a character gives a monologue and another character will intervene in between, though I cannot say whether that makes it no longer a monologue or not. A perfect example of this is Alec Baldwin as the savage Blake in Glengarry Glen Ross, one of the greatest scenes in any American made film:

Blake: Let me have your attention for a moment! So you're talking about what? You're talking about...(puts out his cigarette)...bitching about that sale you shot, some son of a bitch that doesn't want to buy, somebody that doesn't want what you're selling, some broad you're trying to screw and so forth. Let's talk about something important. Are they all here?
Williamson: All but one.
Blake: Well, I'm going anyway. Let's talk about something important! (to Levene) Put that coffee down!! Coffee's for closers only. (Levene scoffs) Do you think I'm fucking with you? I am not fucking with you. I'm here from downtown. I'm here from Mitch and Murray. And I'm here on a mission of mercy. Your name's Levene?
Levene: Yeah.
Blake: You call yourself a salesman, you son of a bitch?
Moss: I don't have to listen to this shit.
Blake: You certainly don't pal. 'Cause the good news is -- you're fired. The bad news is you've got, all you got, just one week to regain your jobs, starting tonight. Starting with tonights sit. Oh, have I got your attention now? Good. 'Cause we're adding a little something to this months sales contest. As you all know, first prize is a Cadillac Eldorado. Anyone want to see second prize? Second prize's a set of steak knives. Third prize is you're fired. You get the picture? You're laughing now? You got leads. Mitch and Murray paid good money. Get their names to sell them! You can't close the leads you're given, you can't close shit, you ARE shit, hit the bricks pal and beat it 'cause you are going out!!!
Levene: The leads are weak.
Blake: 'The leads are weak.' Fucking leads are weak? You're weak. I've been in this business fifteen years.
Moss: What's your name?
Blake: FUCK YOU, that's my name!! You know why, Mister? 'Cause you drove a Hyundai to get here tonight, I drove a eighty thousand dollar BMW. That's my name!! (to Levene) And your name is "you're wanting." And you can't play in a man's game. You can't close them. (at a near whisper) And you go home and tell your wife your troubles. (to everyone again) Because only one thing counts in this life! Get them to sign on the line which is dotted! You hear me, you fucking faggots?
(Blake flips over a blackboard which has two sets of letters on it: ABC, and AIDA.)
Blake: A-B-C. A-always, B-be, C-closing. Always be closing! Always be closing!! A-I-D-A. Attention, interest, decision, action. Attention -- do I have your attention? Interest -- are you interested? I know you are because it's fuck or walk. You close or you hit the bricks! Decision -- have you made your decision for Christ?!! And action. A-I-D-A; get out there!! You got the prospects comin' in; you think they came in to get out of the rain? Guy doesn't walk on the lot unless he wants to buy. Sitting out there waiting to give you their money! Are you gonna take it? Are you man enough to take it? (to Moss) What's the problem pal? You. Moss.
Moss: You're such a hero, you're so rich. Why you coming down here and waste your time on a bunch of bums?
(Blake sits and takes off his gold watch)
Blake: You see this watch? You see this watch?
Moss: Yeah.
Blake: That watch cost more than your car. I made $970,000 last year. How much you make? You see, pal, that's who I am. And you're nothing. Nice guy? I don't give a shit. Good father? Fuck you -- go home and play with your kids!! (to everyone) You wanna work here? Close!! (to Aaronow) You think this is abuse? You think this is abuse, you cocksucker? You can't take this -- how can you take the abuse you get on a sit?! You don't like it -- leave. I can go out there tonight with the materials you got, make myself fifteen thousand dollars! Tonight! In two hours! Can you? Can you? Go and do likewise! A-I-D-A!! Get mad! You sons of bitches! Get mad!! You know what it takes to sell real estate?
(He pulls something out of his briefcase)
Blake: It takes brass balls to sell real estate.
(He's holding two brass balls on string, over the appropriate "area"--he puts them away after a pause)
Blake: Go and do likewise, gents. The money's out there, you pick it up, it's yours. You don't--I have no sympathy for you. You wanna go out on those sits tonight and close, close, it's yours. If not you're going to be shining my shoes. Bunch of losers sitting around in a bar. (in a mocking weak voice) "Oh yeah, I used to be a salesman, it's a tough racket." (he takes out large stack of red index cards tied together with string from his briefcase) These are the new leads. These are the Glengarry leads. And to you, they're gold. And you don't get them. Because to give them to you is just throwing them away. (he hands the stack to Williamson) They're for closers.
I'd wish you good luck but you wouldn't know what to do with it if you got it. (to Moss as he puts on his watch again) And to answer your question, pal: why am I here? I came here because Mitch and Murray asked me to, they asked me for a favor. I said, the real favor, follow my advice and fire your fucking ass because a loser is a loser.
(He stares at Moss for a sec, and then picking up his briefcase, goes into inner office with Williamson)

Many thanks to Colin of http://www.whysanity.net/monos/ for his exceptional database of monologues.

If you don't feel like reading, try and find it on youtube or someplace else. Here is both the monologue's I posted:
The 25th Hour


And here's Alec Baldwin at his greatest in Glengarry Glen Ross:

[menasyng]

Possibly my favorite:

MACBETH: Is this a dagger which I see before me,
The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee!
I have thee not, and yet I see thee still.
Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible
To feeling as to sight? or art thou but
A dagger of the mind, a false creation
Proceeding from the heat-oppressèd brain?
I see thee yet, in form as palpable
As this which now I draw.
Thou marshall'st me the way that I was going,
And such an instrument I was to use.
Mine eyes are made the fools o' th' other senses,
Or else worth all the rest. I see thee still,
And on thy blade and dudgeon gouts of blood,
Which was not so before. There's no such thing.
It is the bloody business which informs
Thus to mine eyes. Now o'er the one half-world
Nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse
The curtained sleep. Witchcraft celebrates
Pale Hecate's offerings; and withered murder,
Alarumed by his sentinel, the wolf,
Whose howl 's his watch, thus with his stealthy pace,
With Tarquin's ravishing strides, towards his design
Moves like a ghost. Thou sure and firm-set earth,
Hear not my steps which way they walk, for fear
Thy very stones prate of my whereabout
And take the present horror from the time,
Which now suits with it. Whiles I threat, he lives;
Words to the heat of deeds too cold breath gives.

[A bell rings.]

I go, and it is done. The bell invites me.
Hear it not, Duncan, for it is a knell
That summons thee to heaven, or to hell.

[iamlove]

NICE. I am always happy to see love for Shakespeare. Great one, Menasyng.

Here is one from Othello. The monologue is from Iago, one of my favorite characters of Shakespeare and, hands down, my favorite villain of his works.

IAGO
Thus do I ever make my fool my purse:
For I mine own gain'd knowledge should profane,
If I would time expend with such a snipe.
But for my sport and profit. I hate the Moor:
And it is thought abroad, that 'twixt my sheets
He has done my office: I know not if't be true;
But I, for mere suspicion in that kind,
Will do as if for surety. He holds me well;
The better shall my purpose work on him.
Cassio's a proper man: let me see now:
To get his place and to plume up my will
In double knavery--How, how? Let's see:--
After some time, to abuse Othello's ear
That he is too familiar with his wife.
He hath a person and a smooth dispose
To be suspected, framed to make women false.
The Moor is of a free and open nature,
That thinks men honest that but seem to be so,
And will as tenderly be led by the nose
As asses are.

Another, from Titus Andronicus. This monologue comes from Aaron, another of my favorite Shakespearian villains; and even though it is quite short, it is without a doubt, one of my all-time favorite monologues from Shakespeare:

O, why should wrath be mute, and fury dumb?
I am no baby, I, that with base prayers
I should repent the evils I have done:
Ten thousand worse than ever yet I did
Would I perform, if I might have my will;
If one good deed in all my life I did,
I do repent it from my very soul.

Every time I read it, it leaves me with chills...

[Dobe Dobe]

Originally Posted by V For Vendetta

Voilà! In view, a humble vaudevillian veteran, cast vicariously as both victim and villain by the vicissitudes of Fate. This visage, no mere veneer of vanity, is a vestige of the vox populi, now vacant, vanished. However, this valorous visitation of a by-gone vexation, stands vivified and has vowed to vanquish these venal and virulent vermin van-guarding vice and vouchsafing the violently vicious and voracious violation of volition.

The only verdict is vengeance; a vendetta, held as a votive, not in vain, for the value and veracity of such shall one day vindicate the vigilant and the virtuous.

Verily, this vichyssoise of verbiage veers most verbose, so let me simply add that it's my very good honor to meet you and you may call me V.

I just like the speed in which he says it, and all the V words.

[MikeBonomo]

My two favorites are Quint in Jaws, and Ben Kingsly in the bathroom in Sexy Beast.

[iamlove]

Happiness from Todd Solondz features two wonderful monologues within the first ten minutes:

John Lovitz's finest moment in acting; He plays Andy, a man who has just been dumped by Joy, the love of his life. in the scene, he shows her the gift he was going to give her in honor of their relationship and his love for her, but she has already dumped him:

Joy: Oh, Andy, I just love it. This...this really means something to me. I'll always treasure it as a...token.
Andy: No, you won't. (grabs it away) 'Cause this is for the girl who loves me. The girl who cares about me, for who I am. Not what I look like. I just wanted you to know what you'd be missing. You think I don't understand art. You think I don't understand fashion. You think I'm not hip. You think I'm pathetic. A nerd. A lard-ass fatso. You think I'm shit. Well, you're wrong. 'Cause I'm champagne. And you're shit! And till the day you die...you...not me...will ALWAYS be shit.

One of my top three favorite actors (alive, I mean), Philip Seymour Hoffman as Allen:

I dunno...but whenever I see her, I just wanna...you know, I wanna...undress her...I wanna tie her up...I wanna pump her...pump, pump, pump, till she screams bloody murder and then I wanna flip her ass over and pump her even more. And so hard that my dick shoots right through her. And that my come squirts out of her mouth. And not that I could ever... actually do that. (breathes to himself) See...if she only knew how I felt. Deep down I really cared for her, respected her...she would love me back. Maybe. Oh, she doesn't even know I exist. I mean, she knows I exist...I mean, we are neighbors, you know, we...you know, smile politely at each other, but...I don't if I could ever really begin to talk to her, I mean, I have nothing to talk about, I'm boring. That I know. I've been told before, so don't tell me it's not true. 'Cause it's a fact. I bore people. People look at me and they get bored. People listen to me and they zone out...bored. who is that boring person? They think..."I have never before met anyone so boring." And for her to see how boring I am...

[horror_movie_girl]

Gotta go with a classic Usual Suspects Kevin Spacey as Verbal Kint

Verbal Kint: He's supposed to be Turkish. Some say his father was German. Nobody ever believed he was real. Nobody ever knew him or saw anybody that ever worked directly for him. But to hear Kobayashi tell it, anybody could have worked for Soze. You never knew; that was his power. The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn't exist.
One story the guys told me, the story I believe, was from his days in Turkey. There was a gang of Hungarians that wanted their own mob. They realized that to be in power, you didn't need guns or money or even numbers. You just needed the will to do what the other guy wouldn't. After a while, they come into power and then they come after Soze. He was small-time then, just running dope, they say. (We see all of this in flashback) They come to his home in the afternoon, looking for his business. They find his wife and kids in the house and decide to wait for Soze. He comes home to find his wife raped and children screaming. The Hungarians knew Soze was tough, not to be trifled with, so they let him know they meant business.
(Flashback: Hungarian cuts one of the children's throats)
They tell him they want his territory, all his business. Soze looks over the faces of his family. Then he showed these men of will what will really was.
(Soze shoots two Hungarians, then shoots his children and his wife as the last Hungarian watches in surprised horror)
He tells him he would rather see his family dead than live another day after this. He lets the last Hungarian go, waits until his wife and kids are in the ground, and then he goes after the rest of the mob. He kills their kids. He kills their wives. He kills their parents and their parents' friends. He burns down the houses they live in, the stores they work in. He kills people that owe them money. And like that, he's gone. Underground. Nobody's ever seen him since. He becomes a myth, a spook story that criminals tell their kids at night. "Rat on your pop and Keyser Soze will get you." But no one ever really believes.
(We see a shadow-encased figure of Keyser Soze walking towards the camera in front of a huge tower of flame as Verbal speaks about the process of revenge.)

Agent Kujon: Do you believe in him, Verbal?

Verbal Kint: Keaton always said, "I don't believe in God, but I'm afraid of him." Well, I believe in God -- and the only thing that scares me is Keyser Soze.

[iamlove]

Originally Posted by MikeBonomo

My two favorites are Quint in Jaws, and Ben Kingsly in the bathroom in Sexy Beast.

Nice. My favorite Ben Kingsley role! He stole that fucking movie

I think Don Logan is one of the greatest characters in cinematic history. He is fucking scary in unique sort of way that I cannot describe; a style of intimidation that is its own. The character is like a bizarre sort of allegory for people who just won't take "NO" for an answer.

I couldn't find anything as far as screenplay quotes, but I just have to honor this role, so, thank god for youtube:



Thanks again for bringing Don Logan to the table Bonomo. I'm going to insert a clip of him on my psychopath thread

[LaArana2]

Nicholas Hope[Bubby]'s echo blather in Bad Boy Bubby.


Warren Oates[Bennie]' one-sided argument with the bodiless head of Alfredo Garcia. [Bring me the Head of Alfredo Garcia]

[Devouring Sickness]

Since Dobe already used the "V for Vendetta" opening speech...

Originally Posted by Chasing Amy

I love you. And not, not in a friendly way, although I think we're great friends. And not in a misplaced affection, puppy-dog way, although I'm sure that's what you'll call it. I love you. Very, very simple, very truly. You are the epitome of everything I have ever looked for in another human being. And I know that you think of me as just a friend, and crossing that line is the furthest thing from an option you would ever consider. But I had to say it. I just, I can't take this anymore. I can't stand next to you without wanting to hold you. I can't, I can't look into your eyes without feeling that, that longing you only read about in trashy romance novels. I can't talk to you without wanting to express my love for everything you are. And I know this will probably queer our friendship - no pun intended - but I had to say it, because I've never felt this way before, and I don't care. I like who I am because of it. And if bringing this to light means we can't hang out anymore, then that hurts me. But God, I just, I couldn't allow another day to go by without just getting it out there, regardless of the outcome, which by the look on your face is to be the inevitable shoot-down. And, you know, I'll accept that. But I know... I know that some part of you is hesitating for a moment, and if there is a moment of hesitation, then that means you feel something too. All I ask, please, is that you just, you just not dismiss that - and try to dwell in it for just ten seconds. Alyssa, there isn't another soul on this fucking planet who has ever made me half the person I am when I'm with you, and I would risk this friendship for the chance to take it to the next plateau. Because it is there between you and me. You can't deny that. Even if, you know, even if we never talk again after tonight, please know that I'm forever changed because of who you are and what you've meant to me, which - while I do appreciate it - I'd never need a painting of birds bought at a diner to remind me of.

Plus, this was the first one that came to mind. Also...

Originally Posted by HULK

Betty Ross: All you've given Bruce is fear. Fear of life.
Father: Fear. Perhaps, Miss Ross. And loneliness, too. Yes. I feel them both. But I have lived completely once. I was so much in love. And she so much wanted a baby. My baby. I could tell from the moment she conceived that it wasn't a son I had given her, but something else. A monster, maybe. I should have put a stop to it right then, but I was curious, and that was my downfall. And as I watched this tiny life unfold, I began to imagine the horror of it, and my curiosity was replaced with compassion. But they took away my chance to cure him. Your father threw me out. I remember that day so well. Every moment. Every sensation. Walking into the house. The feeling of the handle of the knife in my hand. I knew I was doing a father's work, fulfilling a father's mercy... but then she surprised me. It was as if she and the knife merged. You cannot imagine the unbearable finality of it. And in that one moment, I took everything that was dear to me and transformed it into nothing more than a memory.