MALE Monologues

MALE MONOLOGES
You MUST memorize the COMEDY monologue AND pick ONE (1) of the three (3)
DRAMA monologues. They MUST be scored and memorized.
COMEDY
One Man, Two Guvnors
By Richard Bean
ALAN DANGLE: What is my life? Am I to eat, drink, sleep, get a good job, marry,
honeymoon, have kids, watch them grow up and have kids of their own, divorce,
meet someone else, get old, and die happy in my sleep like every other
inhabitant of Brighton and Hove? What kind of a life is that? No. I am an artist.
Character is action. I cannot allow this late suitor--that’s a pun, that’s quite good,
maybe I could be a writer--I cannot allow this twice late suitor, who is both dead
and late to come along and end my beautiful dream, like some wet Labrador
jumping on my head. (He notices Francis.) My rival’s lackey. This will be the
beginning of the end. (To Francis.) Where is the dog, your guvnor? He will die
today.
DRAMA
Red
By John Logan
KEN: Bores you?! Bores you?! — Christ almighty, try working for you for a living!
— The talking-talking-talking-Jesus-Christ-won’t-he-ever-shut-up titanic self-
absorption of the man! You stand there trying to look so deep when you’re
nothing but a solipsistic bully with your grandiose self-importance and lectures
and arias and let’s-look-at-the-damn-canvas-for-another-few-weeks-let’s-not-
fteaking-paint-let’s-just-look. And the pretension! I can’t imagine any other painter
in the history of art ever tried so hard to be SIGNIFICANT! (Ken roams angrily.)
You know, not everything has to be so goddamn IMPORTANT all the time! Not
every painting has to rip your guts out and expose your soul! Not everyone wants
art that actually HURTS! Sometimes you just want a damn still life or landscape
or soup can or comic book! Which you might learn if you ever actually left your
goddamn hermetically sealed submarine here with all the windows closed and no
natural light — BECAUSE NATURAL LIGHT ISN’T GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU!
...
DRAMA
Bug
By Tracy Letts
PETER: I got in some trouble … with the Army. I was stationed in Sakaka … the
Syrian Desert, during the war. The doctors came in and really worked us over,
with shots and pills, ostensibly for inoculation, but … there was something else
going on, too. A lot of the guys got sick, vomiting and diarrhea, migraines,
blackouts. One guy had an epileptic seizure; he’d never had one before. A
couple of guys went AWOL. I never found out what really happened to them. I
started having weird thoughts, too, and feeling … sick. They shipped me home,
put me in a hospital at Groom Lake. They started running these tests. They had
every kind of doctor you could imagine, probing at me, jabbing me, asking me all
kinds of weird questions, feeding me more pills. They wouldn’t let me go. They
kept me there … years, I don’t know, four years. Those doctors were
experimenting on me. I went AWOL. I was a lifer too. I didn’t have anywhere to
go. They don’t respond too well to some drugged up guinea pig just taking off. I
don’t know that I’m not carrying some disease with me, some contagion. Jesus,
you know that’s how they start, Typhoid, Legionnaires disease, some
government screw-up, AIDS with those monkeys in Africa. They’re after me.
These people don’t mess around Agnes. I shouldn’t have told you that.
DRAMA
Angels in America
By Tony Kushner
BELIZE: “Real love isn't ambivalent.”

I'd swear that's a line from my favorite best-selling paperback novel, In Love with
the Night Mysterious, except I don't think you've ever read it. Well, you ought to,
instead of spending the rest of your life trying to get through Democracy in
America. It's about this white woman whose daddy owns a plantation in the Deep
South, in the years before the Civil War. And her name is Margaret, and she's in
love with her daddy's number-one slave, and his name is Thaddeus. And she's
married, but her white slave-owner husband has AIDS: Antebellum Insufficiently-
Developed Sex-organs. And so, there's a lot of hot stuff going down, when
Margaret and Thaddeus can catch a spare torrid ten under the cotton-picking
moon. And then of course the Yankees come, and they set the slaves free. And
the slaves string up old daddy and so on, historical fiction. Somewhere in there I
recall, Margaret and Thaddeus find the time to discuss the nature of love. Her
face is reflecting the flames of the burning plantation, you know the way white
people do, and his black face is dark in the night and she says to him,
"Thaddeus, real love isn't ever ambivalent.” Thaddeus looks at her; he’s
contemplating her thesis; and he isn’t sure he agrees.
I’ve thought about it for a very long time, and I still don’t understand what love is.
Justice is simple. Democracy is simple. Those things are unambivalent. But love
is very hard. And it goes bad for you if you violate the hard law of love.
I can’t help you learn that. I can’t help you, Louis. You’re not my business.

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MALE MONOLOGES

BELIZE: “Real love isn't ambivalent.”

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