SHORT MONOLOGUES FOR ACTING CLASSES

Product Information

There was a buzz around the café all of a sudden. Flowers, notes, guinea-pig memorabilia were left outside in her memory. Monologue: I just wanna say… there will come a time when, you know, all of us are dead. It might be tomorrow. Might be a million years from now but… it’s gonna happen. And when it does, enough generations will come and go, there’ll be no one left to remember Cleopatra. Or Mozart. Or Muhammad Ali, let alone any of us. Oblivion’s inevitable, dude. And if that scares you, well, I suggest you ignore it. God knows it’s what everyone else does. And when the devil comes to strip that love from you, there is no funeral or song or speeches that dull our senses and deaden our hearts.

The monologue found in Act 1, Scene 1 begins with the line, ‘How happy some o’er other some can be’ and provides a fun exploration into a misunderstood character that can work with a number of different choices.” 3. “A Midsummer Night’s Dream”: Lysander Yes, I remember the long afternoons of our childhood, when I had to stay indoors to practice my music— My parents were married fairly young and they never had kids. They were academics. Then they eventually, my dad moved away… But then later, years later, they ran into each other at a party and they…they got together that night. And that’s how I was conceived. On the bed with all the coats. My mum always said it’s because I needed to be born.

Share this page:

He prodded me, forcing me to turn around, mixing your blood with mine. The scar is all I have left of you. But when you say it, I’m looking at you, I believe you actually mean it. And I find that reassuring. Because mostly I feel rage. To this day that bathrobe is the only piece of clothing I can actually see in my mind. I have no visuals of prom dresses or favorite sweater or shoes I couldn’t live without. I hope you’re not suggesting I’m marrying your father for his money. Now you listen and listen good. I’m marrying your father in two weeks whether you like it or not. So I suggest you do not tangle with me anymore. You’re in way over your head. Is that clear? My mother had had the same exact bathrobe – in blue. Electric blue. What are the chances of that really?

I liked this girl. Loved her even. And what did she do? She took a giant shit on my face. Literally. Not literally. Jesus, that’s disgusting, what’s wrong with you? The point is I’m messed up. On one hand, I want to forget her. On the other, I think she’s the only person on Earth who can make me happy. Far from the cities that have paved the world away, and the farms which had turned it into a resource. My mother raised me on her own. She was a professor of 9th century British poetry. She wasn’t very practical. So I ended up doing all the day-to-day stuff. I was organising the bills by the time I was twelve. She came from a Quaker family, so she used to take me to Quaker meetings with her. I still go sometimes. We had a nice life. And then, when I was sixteen, she died. So I moved in with my dad after that. It was cordial, and quiet. My dad is a kind man, and he made the best of it. We both did. This is the moment when you swing by to tell me you’re leaving again, on a longer trip with a bigger grant to study something even stranger than before, before I’m even used to having you around?

But I didn’t mind, no, I didn’t mind until I overheard a group of my friends making crass unkind comments about my family. They all stare, mesmerized, at the strutting JEFFREY. Is he serious? Is he crazy? Doesn’t matter — he’s charismatic.

Anger, which I guess is a variation of rage and sometimes it gives way to panic, which in my case is also a variation of rage. this affliction of love, and has never let go of me since, but kept on growing. I’ve lived next door to you all the days of my life,You can hear it, can’t you? That little voice. The one that’s telling you don’t. Don’t stare too long. Don’t touch. I’d known death since I was a child. It’s everywhere. But it had never touched me. It had never placed it rotten finger on my heart. Lady Macbeth’s depravity, murderous desires, and desire to become “unsexed” drive this powerful scene. (This is often categorized as a soliloquy, but we’re counting it as a monologue since Lady Macbeth is speaking to “spirits of evil.” Who’s to say they’re any less real than the other characters?) And that robe disappeared. Gone. Sent away to the same place my mother’s clothes went, I assume. (Beat) I mean, that’s what it’s all about, right? (Beat.) Your purpose, right? (Pause.) The FIRE took that from me.

Have a Clear Objective: A compelling monologue should depict a character actively pursuing an objective. Choose a piece where the character wants something from another character, creating a sense of tension and immediacy. This will add more depth to your performance. We’d laugh about how great our lives turned out and make plans for the things we were still going to do.

Classical Monologues

Every actor has a different process, but whatever that process is, make sure you do it. It’s easy to just learn the lines and wing it, but it won’t be your best work. Beat.) That’s my life now. (Beat.) You do a thing long enough, your whole life, I guess . . . I don’t really think it matters what that thing is . . . Bowling, playing poker, art . . . Told through the eyes of a girl with her head in a bag, the monologue really just gives teens an opportunity to let loose about the stress of adolescence. It dials up the melodrama, angst, and confusion, making it easy to connect with it and really have fun.” 5. “Everything Will Be Different” by Mark Schultz