Short Movie Monologues
Ten Things I Hate About You
written by Karen McCullah Lutz & Kirsten Smith; adapted from the play by William Shakespeare
Kat: I hate the way you talk to me. And the way you cut your hair. I hate the way you drive my car. I hate it when you stare I hate your big dumb combat boots. And the way you read my mind. I hate you so much it makes me sick-- it even makes me rhyme. I hate the way you're always right. I hate it when you lie. I hate it when you make me laugh -- even worse when you make me cry. I hate it that you're not around. And the fact that you didnt call. But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you - - not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.
That Thing You Do
written by Tom Hanks
Faye: Can I say something? [everyone stops to listen and she turns to Jimmy] Jimmy, from now on, you stay away from me. I've wasted thousands and thousands of kisses on you. Kisses that I thought were special because of your lips and your smile and all of your color and life. I used to think that was the real you when you smiled, but now I know that you don't mean any of it. You just save it for all of your songs. Shame on me for kissing you with my eyes closed so tight.
The Wizard of Oz
written by L. Frank Baum (novel), Noel Langley, Florence Ryerson, and Edgar Allan Woolf
Dorothy: But it wasn't a dream. It was a place. And you and you and you...and you were there. But you couldn't have been could you? No, Aunt Em, this was a real truly live place and I remember some of it wasn't very nice, but most of it was beautiful--but just the same all I kept saying to everybody was "I want to go home," and they sent me home! Doesn't anybody believe me? But anyway, Toto, we're home! Home. And this is my room, and you're all here and I'm not going to leave here ever, ever again. Because I love you all. And... Oh Auntie Em! There's no place like home!
White Oleander
written by Mary Agnes Donoghue, from the novel by Janet Fitch
Astrid: Everybody asks why I started at the end and worked back to the beginning. The reason is simple. I couldn't understand the beginning until I had reached the end. There were too many pieces of the puzzle missing, too much she would never tell. I could sell these things. People want to buy them. But I'd set it all on fire first. She'd like that. She'd make it just to burn it. I couldn’t afford this one, but the beginning deserves something special. But how do I show that nothing, not a taste, not a smell, not even the color of the sky has ever been as clear and sharp as it was when I belonged to her? I don’t know how to express that being with someone so dangerous was the last time I felt safe.
The Santa Anas blew in hot from the desert that fall. Only the oleanders thrived. Maybe the wind was the reason my mother did what she did. If it was, I wouldn’t have known. I lived in her shadow then. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. I know everybody thinks that when they’re small, but she was the most beautiful woman most people had ever seen. He came into our lives without warning. She ignored him at first; he wasn't her type. We laughed about him, his persistence. "Never let a man spend the night," she said. "Never apologize. Never explain." She was breaking all her rules and it would change everything.
Addams Family Values
written by Paul Rudnick, based on characters created by cartoonist Charles Addams
Debbie: I don't want to hurt anybody. I don't enjoy hurting anybody. I don't like guns or bombs or electric chairs, but sometimes people just won't listen and so I have to use persuasion, and slides. My parents, Sharon and Dave. Generous, doting, or were they? All I ever wanted was a Ballerina Barbie in her pretty pink tutu. My birthday, I was 10 and do you know what they got me? Malibu Barbie. That's not what I wanted, that's not who I was. I was a ballerina. Graceful. Delicate. They had to go. My first husband, the heart surgeon. All day long, coronaries, transplants. "Sorry about dinner, Deb, the Pope has a cold." Husband number 2: the senator. He loved his state. He loved his country. Sorry Debbie. No Mercedes this year. We have to set an example." Oh yeah. Set this! My latest husband. My late, late husband Fester, and his adorable family. You took me in. You accepted me. But did any of you love me? I mean, really love me? So I killed. So I maimed. So I destroyed one innocent life after another. Aren't I a human being? Don't I yearn and ache...and shop? Don't I deserve love...and jewelry? Good-bye everybody. Wish me luck.
Breakfast at Tiffany's
written by George Axelrod, novel by Truman Capote
Holly: Look, I know what you think. And I don't blame you, I've always thrown out such a jazzy line. But really...except for Doc...and you...Jose is my first non-rat romance. Oh, not that he's my ideal of the absolute finito. He tells little lies and worries about what people think and he wants to be the President of Brazil. I mean it's such a useless thing for a grown man to want to be and takes about fifty baths a day. I think a man should smell...at least a little bit. No, he's too prim and cautious to be my absolute ideal. If I were free to choose from anybody alive...just snap my fingers and say "Come here, you!"...I wouldn't pick Jose. Nehru maybe...or Adlai Stevenson or Sidney Poiter or Leonard Bernstein...but I do love Jose. I honestly think I'd give up smoking if he asked me to!
Clueless
written by Amy Heckerling
Cher: So, OK, like right now, for example, the Haitians need to come to America. But some people are all "What about the strain on our resources?" But it's like, when I had this garden party for my father's birthday right? I said R.S.V.P. because it was a sit-down dinner. But people came that like, did not R.S.V.P. so I was like, totally buggin'. I had to haul butt to the kitchen, redistribute the food, squish in extra place settings, but by the end of the day it was like, the more the merrier! And so, if the government could just get to the kitchen, rearrange some things, we could certainly party with the Haitians. And in conclusion, may I please remind you that it does not say R.S.V.P. on the Statue of Liberty?
Clueless
written by Amy Heckerling
Cher: (voice-over) Everything I think and everything I do is wrong. I was wrong about Elton, I was wrong about Christian, and now Josh hated me. It all boiled down to one inevitable conclusion, I was just totally clueless... Oh and this whole Josh and Ty thing was wiggin' me more than anything. I mean, what was my problem? Ty is my pal, I don't begrudge her a boyfriend. I really... (looks into a store window) Oooh! I wonder if they have that in my size! (comes out of the store with bags in tow) What does she want with Josh anyway? He dresses funny, he listens to complaint rock, he's not even cute in a conventional way... I mean, he's just like this slug that hangs around the house all the time! Ugh! And he's a hideous dancer, couldn't take him anywhere. Wait a second, what am I stressing about, this is like, Josh. Okay, okay...... so he's kind of a Baldwin. What would he want with Ty, she couldn't make him happy, Josh needs someone with imagination, someone to take care of him, someone to laugh at his jokes in case he ever makes any...the suddenly....(pause) Oh my god! I love Josh! I'm majorly, totally, butt crazy in love with Josh! But now I don't know how to act around him. I mean normally I'd strut around in my cutest little outfits, and send myself flowers and candy but I couldn't do that stuff with Josh.
Freaky Friday
written by Heather Hach and Leslie Dixon, from the novel by Mary Rodgers
Tess (as her daughter Anna): Mr. Bates, may I please speak with you? By what stretch of the imagination . . . I mean, like, how could I, like, get an “F”? I mean, what mistakes did I make? That was a college-level analysis. In a matter of fact I most certainly am qualified of making that point. "As in Hamlet, ‘what’s done is done’"? That’s "Macbeth," you know-nothing twit. Bates. Elton Bates. Griffith High School. Well, you asked me, I mean, my mom to the prom, but she turned you down. And now you’re taking it out on her daughter, aren’t you? Aren’t you?! Oh come on, it was high school dance. I mean, you’ve got to let go and move on, man. And if you don’t, I’m ! sure the school board would love to hear about your pathetic vendetta against an innocent student. Oh, and by the way Elton, she had a boyfriend, and you were weird.
Freaky Friday
written by Heather Hach and Leslie Dixon, from the novel by Mary Rodgers
Anna (as Tess): Well, of course we’re tired because of our demanding and hectic ... Do you want to know why adults are so tired all the time? Because they spend their time obsessing about these stupid, lame things they don't really have to do. Like cooking. I mean, have you never heard of takeout? And cleaning? Let's don’t and say we did! And quality time with your kids? You know what? Quit bugging 'em! Leave 'em alone! They like it! Hello? It's called reading between the lines! Try listening to the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, The Vines, The Breeders. And if you're excited about something, why do you have to hold it in all the time? You know, just scream about it! Okay, do this with me, all right? Let's just say this cute guy asks you out. What are you gonna do? Whoo! Come on, that was pathetic!! You know, you keep all that bottled up, no wonder you're getting old! I'm serious, this guy is hot! What are you gonna do? Whooo!
The Holiday
written by Nancy Meyers
Iris: I've found almost everything ever written about love to be true. Shakespeare said "Journeys end in lovers meeting." What an extraordinary thought. Personally, I have not experienced anything remotely close to that, but I am more than willing to believe Shakespeare had. I suppose I think about love more than anyone really should. I am constantly amazed by its sheer power to alter and define our lives. It was Shakespeare who also said "love is blind". Now that is something I know to be true. For some quite inexplicably, love fades; for others love is simply lost. But then of course love can also be found, even if just for the night. And then, there's another kind of love: the cruelest kind. The one that almost kills its victims. It's called unrequited love. Of that I am an expert. Most love stories are about people who fall in love with each other. But what about the rest of us? What about our stories, those of us who fall in love alone? We are the victims of the one sided affair. We are the cursed of the loved ones. We are the unloved ones, the walking wounded. The handicapped without the advantage of a great parking space! Yes, you are looking at one such individual. And I have willingly loved that man for over three miserable years! The absolute worst years of my life! The worst Christmas', the worst Birthday's, New Years Eve's brought in by tears and valium. These years that I have been in love have been the darkest days of my life. All because I've been cursed by being in love with a man who does not and will not love me back. Oh god, just the sight of him! Heart pounding! Throat thickening! Absolutely can't swallow! All the usual symptoms. I understand feeling as small and as insignificant as humanly possible. And how it can actually ache in places you didn't know you had inside you. And it doesn't matter how many new haircuts you get, or gyms you join, or how many glasses of chardonnay you drink with your girlfriends... you still go to bed every night going over every detail and wonder what you did wrong or how you could have misunderstood. And how in the hell for that brief moment you could think that you were that happy. And sometimes you can even convince yourself that he'll see the light and show up at your door. And after all that, however long all that may be, you'll go somewhere new. And you'll meet people who make you feel worthwhile again. And little pieces of your soul will finally come back. And all that fuzzy stuff, those years of your life that you wasted, that will eventually begin to fade.
Mommie Dearest
written by Robert Getchell, Tracy Hotchner, Frank Perry, & Frank Yablans, from the book by Christina Crawford
Joan Crawford: No wire hangers! What's wire hangers doing in this closet when I told you no wire hangers?! EVER!!!! I work till I'm half dead and I hear people say she's getting old! What do I get ? A daughter who cares as much about a beautiful dress I give her as she cares about me. What's wire hangers doing in this closet?! Answer me! I buy you beautiful dresses and you treat 'em like some dishrag! You threw a 300 dollar dress on a wire hanger! We'll see how many you got hidden in here, we'll see! All of this is coming out! Out! Out! Out! Out! We're gonna see how many wire hangers you got in your closet! Wire hangers. Why? Why? Christina, get out of that bed! Get out of that bed! (picks up hanger and begins to beat Christina) You live in the most beautiful house in Brentwood and you dont care about crease marks from wire hangers, and your room looks like some two dollar unfurnished room in some two- bit backstreet town in Oklahoma! Get up! Clean up this mess! Did you scrub the bathroom floor today? Did you?
Million Dollar Baby
written by Paul Haggis, from the stories by F.X. Toole
Maggie Fitzgerald: I'm 32, Mr. Dunn, and I'm here celebrating the fact that I spent another year scraping dishes and waitressing which is what I've been doing since 13, and according to you I'll be 37 before I can even throw a decent punch, which I have to admit, after working on this speed bag for a month may be the God's simple truth. Other truth is, my brother's in prison, my sister cheats on welfare by pretending one of her babies is still alive, my daddy's dead, and my momma weighs 312 pounds. If I was thinking straight I'd go back home, find a used trailer, buy a deep fryer and some Oreos. Problem is, this the only thing I ever felt good doing. If I'm too old for this then I got nothing. That enough truth to suit you?
Million Dollar Baby
written by Paul Haggis, from the stories by F.X. Toole
Maggie Fitzgerald: I can't be like this, Frankie. Not after what I've done. I've seen the world. People chanted my name. Well, not my name, some damn name you gave me. But they were chanting for me. I was in magazines. You think I ever dreamed that'd happen? I was born at two pounds, one-and-a-half ounces. Daddy used to tell me I fought into this world, and I'd fight my way out. That's all I wanna do, Frankie. I just don't wanna fight you to do it. I got what I needed. I got it all. Don't let 'em keep taking it away from me. Don't let me lie here 'till I can't hear those people chanting no more.
The Princess Diaries
written by Gina Wendkos, from the novel by Meg Cabot
Mia: Hi, um... hello. I'm Mia. Um, it's stopped raining! I'm really no good at speech-making. Normally I get so nervous that I faint or run away, or sometimes I even get sick. But you really didn't need to know that... But I'm not so afraid anymore. See, my father helped me. Earlier this evening had every intention of giving up my claim to the throne. And my mother 0helped me, by telling me it was ok, and by supporting me like she has for my entire life. But then I wondered how I'd feel after abdicating my role as Princess of Genovia. Would I feel relieved, or would I feel sad? And then I realized how many stupid times a day I use the word 'I.' And probably all I ever do is think about myself. And how lame is that when there's like seven billion other people out there on the planet, and... sorry, I'm going too fast. But then I thought, if I cared about the other seven billion out there, instead of just me, that's probably a much better use of my time.
See, if i were Princess of Genovia, then my thoughts and the thoughts of people smarter than me would be much better heard, and just maybe those thoughts could be turned into actions. So this morning when I woke up, I was Mia Thermopolis. But now I choose to be forevermore, Amelia Mignonette Thermopolis Renaldi, Princess of Genovia.