FILM MONOLOGUES

1. A Few Good Men

In this courtroom drama, two Marines are accused of murdering a fellow Marine of their unit, PFC
William Santiago Michael DeLorenzo, at the Guantanamo Bay Naval Base in Cuba, which is under
the command of Col. Nathan R. Jessep (Jack Nicholson). It is suspected that Jessep ordered the
two Marines to carry out a code red on Santiage a euphemism for a violent extrajudicial
punishment. Lawyer Daniel Danny Kaffee (Tom Cruise) directly accuses Jessep of this in the
courtroom and, heavily under pressure and tangled in his own lies, Jessep makes a furious
declaration.
Jessep: You want answers?
Kaffee: I think I'm entitled.
Jessep: You want answers?
Kaffee: I want the truth!
Jessep: You can't handle the truth! Son, we live in a world that has
walls. And those walls have to be guarded by men with guns. Who's gonna do
it? You? You, Lt. Weinberg? I have a greater responsibility than you can
possibly fathom. You weep for Santiago and you curse the Marines. You have
that luxury. You have the luxury of not knowing what I know: that
Santiago's death, while tragic, probably saved lives. And my existence,
while grotesque and incomprehensible to you, saves lives...You don't want
the truth. Because deep down, in places you don't talk about at parties,
you want me on that wall. You need me on that wall.We use words like
honor, code, loyalty...we use these words as the backbone to a life spent
defending something. You use 'em as a punchline. I have neither the time
nor the inclination to explain myself to a man who rises and sleeps under
the blanket of the very freedom I provide, then questions the manner in
which I provide it! I'd rather you just said thank you and went on your
way. Otherwise, I suggest you pick up a weapon and stand a post. Either
way, I don't give a damn what you think you're entitled to!
Kaffee: Did you order the code red?

Jessep: (quietly) I did the job you sent me to do.

Kaffee: Did you order the code red?

Breaking Bad
from the TV series created by Vince Gilligan
Walter: I've done a terrible thing, but I did it for a good reason. I did it for us.
That...is college tuition for Walter Jr. and Holly, 18 years down the road. Then it's
health insurance for you and the kids, for Junior's physical therapy, his SAT tutor. It's
money for groceries and gas, for birthdays and graduation parties. That money is for
this roof over your head, the mortgage that you are not going to be able to afford on a
part-time bookkeeper's salary when I'm gone.
Skyler: Walt, I...
Walter: Please. Please. This money... I didn't steal it. It doesn't belong to anyone else.
I earned it. The things I've...done to earn it... The... the... things I've had to do, I've got
to live with them. Skyler, all that I've done, all the sacrifices that I have... made for
this family, all of that will be for nothing if you don't accept what I've earned.
Please. ... I'll be here when you get home from work. You can give me your answer
then.

Walter: My father died when I was 6. You knew that, right? Yeah. He had
Huntington's Disease. It's-- destroys portions of the brain, affects muscle control, leads
to dementia. It's just a nasty disease. It's genetic. It terrified my mother that I might
have it, so they ran tests on me when I was a kid, but I came up clean. My father fell
very ill when I was 4 or 5. He spent a lot of time in the hospital. My-- My mother
would tell me so many stories about my father. She would talk about him all the time.
I knew about his personality, how he treated people. I even knew how he liked his
steaks cooked-- medium rare. Just like you. I knew things about my father. I had a lot
of information. It's because people would tell me these things. They would paint this
picture of my father for me, and I always pretended that was who I saw, too, who I
remembered, but it was a lie. In truth, I only have one real, actual memory of my
father. It must've been right before he died. My mother would take me to the hospital
to visit him, and I remember the smell in there, the chemicals. It was as if they use up

every single cleaning product they could find in a 50-mile radius... like they didn't
want you smelling the sick people. Oh, there was this stench of Lysol and bleach. You
could just feel it coating your lungs. Anyway, there, lying on the bed, is my father.
He's all-- He's all twisted up. And my mom, she puts me on her lap. She's sitting on
the bed next to him so I can get a good look at him... but really he just scares me... and
he's looking right at me... but I can't even be sure that he knows who I am. And your
grandmother is talking, trying to be cheerful, you know, as she does, but the only
thing I could remember is him breathing. Oh, th-- this-- this rattling sound, like if you
were shaking an empty spray-paint can. Like there was nothing in him. Anyway... that
is the only real memory that I have of my father. I don't want you to think of me the
way I was last night. I don't want that to be the memory you have of me when I'm
gone.

Criminal Minds
from the episode "Masterpiece" written by Edward Allen Bernero, from the
episode "To Hell ... And Back" written by Chris Mundy, and from the episode
"The Longest Night" written by Edward Allen Bernero.
(Prof. Rothchild (Jason Alexander) reveals to David Rossi (Joe Mantegna)why he
committed the murders.)
Prof. Rothchild: All animals desperately need a way to attract others of their species,
dogs have sent, dolphins have sound, The Golden Ratio is a subconscious identifier of
perfect humanness. If I had done all of these things it wouldn't be because those
women were beautiful, it would be because they were a perfect example of humanity,
hypothetically speaking. Do you know what Homo Sapiens, Sapiens actually means
David, its literal translation? Man wise, wise. Think about that, we named ourselves
doubly wise, we are twice as wise as every other creature on the planet. Hubris,
arrogance, humans are a blight, we should all be eradicated.
I hate humanity every bit as much as you do. I told you I read all your books. It's in
there, everyone of them, your hatred. Your first book, chapter three, page eighty-nine:
one, three, eighty-nine, all Fibonacci numbers. The first time I saw one of William
Grace's victims I knew I was looking at the residue of pure evil and that I would never
again feel completely safe around another human being. Like you, I know exactly
what human beings are capable of. Your fifth book, chapter thirteen, page one hundred
forty-four, I know it makes little sense to try and deter violence with more violence,
but deterrence is not why I believe in the death penalty. There are some people that are

so violent, so evil, that society has no choice but to be done with them. Vengeance is
something that society needs from time to time if for no other purpose then to keep the
rest of us sane. Vengeance keeps us sane. What a fascinating statement. You may
have your vengeance as I am about to have mine. They are never going to make it out
of that house, David. It was never about that perfect woman, or those wonderful
children, it was about your team, your merry band of five, they complete my
sequence. It's to late David. The minute they stepped into that house they were dead. I
knew that if I kept prodding you that you would rise to my challenge, knew that you
would insist on being in the room alone with me. You were trying to beat me but I
knew that you would send them all out there. You're not just filled with hatred David;
you are also filled with arrogance and hubris just like every other human being. Just
like me. William Grace, the man you called the face of pure evil, my brother. My life
ended the day you arrested him. Every time people talked about William Grace they
always talked about his parents and his brother Henry. No one could believe that
anyone so evil could possibly hide in the darkness. Surly someone must have seen,
someone must have known, surly his own brother. I had a fianc David, beautiful
woman, perfect woman. She sent the ring back to me, she said she was afraid to give
it back in person, she was afraid of me. That is when I started getting these thoughts,
these ideas, these images inside of my head and I couldn't, I couldn't escape. But then
I realized that my brother wasn't alone in the darkness, I shared the same genetics that
you so casually dismissed. So I started a second life. I knew something was missing
yet I couldn't figure it out, and then, David Rossi, the man that ruined my life, and
suddenly I knew what it was that was missing because you had written it. Vengeance.
Vengeance. That's right, I killed twelve people because of you. You took my family,
now I take yours.

(After finishing up a job in Canada, Aaron Hotchner (Thomas Gibson) returns

home and questions if he did the right thing.)
Aaron Hotchner: Sometimes there are no words, no clever quotes to neatly sum up
what has happened that day. Sometimes you do everything right, everything exactly
right, and still you feel like you failed. Did it need to end that way? Could something
have been done to prevent the tragedy in the first place? Eighty-nine murders at the
pig farm, the deaths of Mason and Lucas Turner make ninety-one lives snuffed out.
Kelly Shane will go home and try to recover, to reconnect to her family, but she will
never be a child again. William Hightower, who gave his leg for his country gave the
rest of himself to avenge his sisters murder. That makes ninety-three lives forever
altered. Not counting family and friends in a small town in Sarnia, Ontario who
thought monsters didn't exist until they learned that they spent their lives with one.
And what about my team? How many more times will they be able to look into the

abyss? How many more times will they be able to recover the pieces of themselves
that this job takes? Like I said, sometimes there are no words, no clever quotes to
neatly sum up what has happened that day, sometimes the day just ends.

You're A Good Man Charlie Brown

written by Clark Gesner, from the comic strip by Charles Schultz
Charlie Brown: I think lunchtime is about the worst time of day for me. Always
having to sit here alone. Of course, sometimes, mornings aren't so pleasant either.
Waking up and wondering if anyone would really miss me if I never got out of bed.
Then there's the night, too. Lying there and thinking about all the stupid things I've
done during the day. And all those hours in between when I do all those stupid things.
Well, lunchtime is among the worst times of the day for me. Well, I guess I'd better
see what I've got. Peanut butter. Some psychiatrists say that people who eat peanut
butter sandwiches are lonely...I guess they're right. And when you're really lonely, the
peanut butter sticks to the roof of your mouth. There's that cute little red-headed girl
eating her lunch over there. I wonder what she would do if I went over and asked her
if I could sit and have lunch with her?...She'd probably laugh right in my face...it's
hard on a face when it gets laughed in. There's an empty place next to her on the
bench. There's no reason why I couldn't just go over and sit there. I could do that right
now. All I have to do is stand up...I'm standing up!...I'm sitting down. I'm a coward.
I'm so much of a coward, she wouldn't even think of looking at me. She hardly ever
does look at me. In fact, I can't remember her ever looking at me. Why shouldn't she
look at me? Is there any reason in the world why she shouldn't look at me? Is she so
great, and I'm so small, that she can't spare one little moment?...SHE'S LOOKING AT
ME!! SHE'S LOOKING AT ME!! (he puts his lunchbag over his
head.) ...Lunchtime is among the worst times of the day for me. If that little redheaded girl is looking at me with this stupid bag over my head she must think I'm the
biggest fool alive. But, if she isn't looking at me, then maybe I could take it off
quickly and she'd never notice it. On the other hand...I can't tell if she's looking, until I
take it off! Then again, if I never take it off I'll never have to know if she was looking
or not. On the other hand...it's very hard to breathe in here. (he removes his
sack) Whew! She's not looking at me! I wonder why she never looks at me? Oh well,
another lunch hour over with...only 2,863 to go.
LITERATURE MONOLOGUES for AUDITION

THE SEAGULL
A monologue from the play by Anton Chekhov

TREPLEF: She is vexed at the idea of Nina Zartchnaya and not

herself having a success even in this poor little theatre. She is a
psychological curiosity, my mother. A clever and gifted woman, who
can cry over a novel, will reel you off all Nekrsof's poems by heart,
and is the perfection of a sick nurse; but venture to praise Eleonora
Duse before her! Oho! ho! You must praise nobody but her, write
about her, shout about her, and go into ecstasies over her wonderful
performance in La Dame aux Camlias, or The Fumes of Life; but as
she cannot have these intoxicating pleasures down here in the
country, she's bored and gets spiteful; we are her enemies, she
thinks; it's all our fault. Then, she's superstitious, is afraid of the
number thirteen, or three candles on a table. She's a miser, too. She
has seven thousand pounds in the bank at Odessa; I know it for
certain. But ask her to lend you anything and she'll cry. [Pulling the
petals from a flower] She loves me, she loves me not, she loves me,
she loves me not, she loves me, she loves me not. [Laughs] You see,
my mother doesn't love me. Why should she? She wants to live, to
love, to wear pretty frocks; and I, I am twenty-five years old, and a
perpetual reminder that she is no longer young. When I'm not there,
she is only thirty-two; when I am, she's forty-three, and she hates
me for that. She also knows that I don't believe in the stage. She
loves the stage; she thinks that she is advancing the cause of
humanity and her sacred art; but I regard the stage of to-day as
mere routine and prejudice. When the curtain goes up and the gifted
beings, the high priests of the sacred art, appear by electric light, in
a room with three sides to it, representing how people eat, drink,
love, walk and wear their jackets; when they strive to squeeze out a
moral from the flat, vulgar pictures and the flat, vulgar phrases, a
little tiny moral, easy to comprehend and handy for home
consumption, when in a thousand variations they offer me always
the same thing over and over again--then I take to my heels and
run, as Maupassant ran from the Eiffel Tower, which crushed his
brain by its overwhelming vulgarity. We must have a new formula.
That's what we want. And if there are none, then it's better to have
nothing at all. I love my mother, I love her dearly; but it's a tomfool
life that she leads with this novelist always at her elbow, and her
name for ever in the papers--it disgusts me! Sometimes it is just the

egoism of the ordinary man that speaks to me; I am sorry that I

have a famous actress for my mother, and I feel that if she had been
an ordinary woman I should have been happier. What position could
be more hopeless and absurd than mine was at home with her? Her
drawing-room filled with nothing but celebrities, actors and writers,
and among them all the only nobody, myself, tolerated only because
I was her son. Who am I? What am I? Sent down from the University
without a degree through circumstances for which the editor cannot
hold himself responsible, as they say; with no talents, without a
farthing, and according to my passport a Kief artisan; for my father
was officially reckoned Kief artisan, although he was a famous actor.
So that when these actors and writers in her drawing-room
graciously bestowed their attention on me, it seemed to me that
they were merely taking the measure of my insignificance; I guessed
their thoughts and felt humiliation.
Read more at
(http://www.monologuearchive.com/c/chekhov_011.html#FOAdBt7z8
ucOesl7.99)

THE BOOR
A monologue from the play by Anton Chekhov

SMIRNOV: I don't understand how to behave in the company of

ladies. Madam, in the course of my life I have seen more women
than you have sparrows. Three times have I fought duels for women,
twelve I jilted and nine jilted me. There was a time when I played the
fool, used honeyed language, bowed and scraped. I loved, suffered,
sighed to the moon, melted in love's torments. I loved passionately,
I loved to madness, loved in every key, chattered like a magpie on
emancipation, sacrificed half my fortune in the tender passion, until
now the devil knows I've had enough of it. Your obedient servant will
let you lead him around by the nose no more. Enough! Black eyes,
passionate eyes, coral lips, dimples in cheeks, moonlight whispers,
soft, modest sights--for all that, madam, I wouldn't pay a kopeck! I
am not speaking of present company, but of women in general; from
the tiniest to the greatest, they are conceited, hypocritical,
chattering, odious, deceitful from top to toe; vain, petty, cruel with a
maddening logic and in this respect, please excuse my frankness,
but one sparrow is worth ten of the aforementioned petticoat-

philosophers. When one sees one of the romantic creatures before

him he imagines he is looking at some holy being, so wonderful that
its one breath could dissolve him in a sea of a thousand charms and
delights; but if one looks into the soul--it's nothing but a common
crocodile. But the worst of all is that this crocodile imagines it is a
masterpiece of creation, and that it has a monopoly on all the
tender passions. May the devil hang me upside down if there is
anything to love about a woman! When she is in love, all she knows
is how to complain and shed tears. If the man suffers and makes
sacrifices she swings her train about and tries to lead him by the
nose. You have the misfortune to be a woman, and naturally you
know woman's nature; tell me on your honor, have you ever in your
life seen a woman who was really true and faithful? Never! Only the
old and the deformed are true and faithful. It's easier to find a cat
with horns or a white woodcock, than a faithful woman.

THE PROFESSION
A monologue from the play by Walter Wykes

EUGENE: Hey! Don't touch that! That's my orange! MINE!!!

[EUGENE wrenches his orange away from the VAGRANT.]
Sorry. I'm sorry. I ... I don't mean to be stingy. I'm sure you're very hungry, but I can't
allow you to eat this orange. It's just that ... well, it's ... it's the key to everything! I
know that doesn't seem to make much sense. I don't understand it quite yet myself.
But one has to have faith, you know, that ... well, that everything will come clear in
the end.
[Pause.]
It ... it must be nice to be a halfwit. A vagrant, I mean. A wanderer. You don't have to
contemplate. If you're hungry, you eat. Everything's basic. Primitive. Nothing to
confuse the issue. No one to push you around ... tell you what to do. Maybe ... maybe
I should join you!

[EUGENE chuckles. No response from the VAGRANT.]

Hey ... maybe ... maybe I should! They'd never find me then! And if they did ... well,
they wouldn't recognize me! I'll bet people don't even give you a second look, do
they?! They probably cross the street when they see you coming! That's it! That's the
answer! I'll be an outcast! What do you think?
[The VAGRANT snorts.]
What's so funny? I could be an outcast! I ... I admit I don't have much experience, but
I've always thought of myself as living on the fringes, you know. I'm an outlaw at
heart! Once, when I was five or six ... don't tell anyone, but ... I once stole a whole
handful of comic books from a retarded boy that lived down the street! Lifted them
right under his nose!
[A beat.]
All right, I ... I took them back the next day, but it's the thought that counts!
[A beat.]
You're not impressed.
[A beat.]
I guess maybe a ... a true outcast only takes what he needs to survive. Is that it? You
probably have your own code of conduct. Like the samurai. But I ... I could learn! You
could teach me!
[The VAGRANT snorts.]
I think I'd make a respectable outcast!
[Pause.]
All right, what's ... what's wrong with me? Is it the shoes? You're rightshoes might
draw attention! Shoes are much too mainstream for me anyway! I've never really liked
them! They chafe your feet! Give you blisters!

[EUGENE removes his shoes.]

There!
[The VAGRANT stares at EUGENE's feet.]
I ... I suppose I should get rid of the socks too?
[He does.]
There! You seeI'm willing to make sacrifices. I don't ask for special treatment. I just
want to be a regular outcast like everyone else.
[The VAGRANT stares hard at EUGENE.]
What?
[EUGENE begins to fidget.]
What is it? The pants? Just tell me what to do. I'm willing to do whatever it takes.
Only I ... I don't have anything else to wear. This is all I've got. I admit, it's a bit
dressy for your average outcast, but ... I ... I could dirty it up a bit. A few properly
placed smudges, a rip here and there, and you won't recognize it!
[EUGENE attempts to rip his coat.]
This ... ahh ... this is ... good ... good fabric. Maybe if I try the seams.
[He tries the seams--no luck.]
Oh! Wait! I've got it! We could trade! You want to trade?! You know, they say well
dressed panhandlers are much more successful! People are more likely to give you a
few dollars if you're wearing a coat and tie because they know you must really be in a
bind! I ... I know it doesn't make much sense, but it's a proven fact!
[EUGENE begins to take off his clothes.]
Just ... just take off your clothes. I'll even throw in the shoes. And the socks, if you'd
like. They're a little smelly, but ...

[The VAGRANT takes EUGENE's shoes. Sniffs them.]

Believe me, you won't be sorry. Those are very expensive shoes! Some kind of fancy
leather. My ... my wife, Ibid, bought them for me ...
[EUGENE pauses.]
Ibid ...
[He stares at the pants in his hands for a long moment.]
She ... she has very good taste in ... in clothes.
[Silence. Overcome with sadness, EUGENE sits on the bench. Finally, after a long
moment, he offers the VAGRANT his pants.]
Here. Take them.
[He does.]
You want the coat too? Take it! And the tie! Take it all! I don't need it anymore!
There! I feel much better now! Free! So this is what it's like to be an outcast!
[The VAGRANT snorts.]
What? I ... I still don't qualify? But I've met all the requirements. I mean, I'm sure
there are some spiritual aspects that I'll ... I'll have to grow into ... certainly. I mean,
I'm sure there are several levels of vagrancy and ... and I can't expect to attain the
highest levels right away. These things take time. I'm sure you've been at it for years,
and you want to protect your status by making newcomers serve a ... a sort of
apprenticeship so to speak. And I'm willing to do that! I'm committed for the long
term! But surely I qualify as at least a Level One outcast! I mean, one has to have
some kind assurance that one is moving in the right direction! After all, I've given up
everything! I've sworn off all material possessions!
[The VAGRANT stares at EUGENE'S orange.]
What?

[EUGENE clutches the orange tightly.]

You don't mean this? It's not for material reasons that I'm attached to it! It's what the
orange represents! Why can't I be an outcast with an orange? Where is it written that
an outcast can't own a little piece of fruit?!
[The VAGRANT holds up his hand--points to it.]
What?
[The VAGRANT points to his hand.]
Your hand.
[The VAGRANT nods--pantomimes opening a book.]
Reading. Hand-reading? Braille? Blind?
[The VAGRANT shakes his head no.]
Book.
[The VAGRANT nods.]
Hand. Book.
[A beat. Horrified.]
The handbook!
[The VAGRANT nods emphatically.]
No! Oh, no!
[The VAGRANT does a mad dance, clapping wildly.]
You're lying! There is no handbook! I refuse to believe it! It's a lie! A fabrication! You
just want me to feel I've been left in the dark! Well, I ... I won't have it! Do you hear?!
I won't have it! I refuse to cooperate! How do you like that?!

WAITING for GODOT - Samuel Beckett

VLADIMIR:
Let us not waste our time in idle discourse! (Pause. Vehemently.) Let us do
something, while we have the chance! It is not every day that we are needed.
Not indeed that we personally are needed. Others would meet the case equally
well, if not better. To all mankind they were addressed, those cries for help still
ringing in our ears! But at this place, at this moment of time, all mankind is us,
whether we like it or not. Let us make the most of it, before it is too late! Let us
represent worthily for once the foul brood to which a cruel fate consigned us!
What do you say? (Estragon says nothing.) It is true that when with folded
arms we weigh the pros and cons we are no less a credit to our species. The
tiger bounds to the help of his congeners without the least reflection, or else he
slinks away into the depths of the thickets. But that is not the question. What
are we doing here, that is the question. And we are blessed in this, that we
happen to know the answer. Yes, in this immense confusion one thing alone is
clear. We are waiting for Godot to come

VLADIMIR:
Was I sleeping, while the others suffered? Am I sleeping now? Tomorrow,
when I wake, or think I do, what shall I say of today? That with Estragon my
friend, at this place, until the fall of night, I waited for Godot? That Pozzo
passed, with his carrier, and that he spoke to us? Probably. But in all that what
truth will there be?
(Estragon, having struggled with his boots in vain, is dozing off again.
Vladimir looks at him.) He'll know nothing. He'll tell me about the blows he
received and I'll give him a carrot. (Pause.) Astride of a grave and a difficult
birth. Down in the hole, lingeringly, the grave digger puts on the forceps. We
have time to grow old. The air is full of our cries. (He listens.) But habit is a
great deadener. (He looks again at Estragon.) At me too someone is looking, of
me too someone is saying, He is sleeping, he knows nothing, let him sleep on.
(Pause.) I can't go on! (Pause.) What have I said?
He goes feverishly to and fro, halts finally at extreme left, broods. Enter Boy
right. He halts. Silence.

Death of a Salesman- Monologue

This monologue delivered by Willy aimed toward Ben. It gives his thought
process right before he kills himself. It gives the finality of his thoughts and
the conflicts developed through the story. It should be delivered immediately
before Linda begins looking for Willy.
Willy is sitting in his car in the dark. Ben is sitting next to him in the
passenger seat.
Willy: (sorrowfully) Am I a failure, Ben?
I got fired, my sons hate me, and I make Linda miserable. What kind of man
have I become? Biff cant stand the sight of me, and what reason does he have
not to. I dont blame him for leaving me at that restaurant, if I was him I
would have done the same thing. I ruined his life. Im the reason he never
went to university and now can barely scrape a living. And all I ever wanted
was for him to make something of his life. I remember the way people used to
cheer for him when he played ball. You should have seen him that day at
Ebbetts Field. He was all over the play, heads and shoulders above the rest of
them. Everyone in the stadium was cheering for him, for him. And I ruined it
for him. Thats why I just want to be successful. Just something I can brag
about again. I miss the way the other fathers looked at me with envy when I
talked about Biff. Why couldnt I have turned out more like you, Ben?
You were always so successful. You conquered the world, built a fortune. You
were happy Ben. And what do I have now? Two sons who hate me, no job,
and I have to borrow money just to survive. (beginning to get more distant
and steady) Maybe Biff was right, maybe I am a dime a dozen. A nothing.
Well I know one thing for sure, I refuse to ride off into the sunset and leave
this mess behind. I am Willy Loman, and by God, Im going to do something
right in this world. Im going to fix this mess the only way I have left. (with
assurance) Lets go catch that train Ben.
Willy puts car in gear and you immediately move spotlight to Linda
searching for Willy.