2001: A Space Odyssey (David Bowman)
Open the pod bay doors please HAL. Open the pod bay doors please HAL. Hello HAL do you read me? Hello HAL do you read me? Do you read me HAL? … What’s the problem?
1077 Best Movie Monologues
2010: The Year We Make Contact (Heywood Floyd)
My dear Christopher: This is the last time I’ll be able to speak to you for a long while. I’m trying to put into words what has happened. Maybe that’s for historians to do sometime later. They will record that the next day, the President of the United States looked out of the White House window and the Premier of the Soviet Union looked out of the Kremlin window, and saw the new distant sun in the sky. They read the message, and perhaps they learned something because they finally recalled their ships and their planes. I am going to sleep now. I will dream of you and your mother. I will sleep knowing that you are both safe, that the fear is over. We have seen the process of life take place. Maybe this is the way it happened on Earth millions of years ago. Maybe it’s something completely different. I still don’t know really what the monolith is. I think it’s many things. An embassy for an intelligence beyond ours. A shape of some kind for something that has no shape. Your children will be born in a world of two suns. They will never know a sky without them. You can tell them that you remember when there was a pitch black sky with no bright star, and people feared the night. You can tell them when we were alone, when we couldn’t point to the light and say to ourselves – ‘There is life out there.’ Someday, the children of the new sun will meet the children of the old. I think they will be our friends. You can tell your children of the day when everyone looked up and realized that we were only tenants of this world. We have been given a new lease and a warning from the landlord.
25th Hour (Monty Brogan)
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.
30 Minutes or Less (Nick)
NICK: Stop! Just don”t come any closer. I”m gonna give you the short version of an incredibly complicated and f – up situation, so please be cool. (beat) Some very bad guys strapped a bomb to my chest and they are forcing me to commit a crime. I wish I was joking, but I”m not. I know it”s a lot to swallow, but you gotta take it on face value, because there”s a timer attached to this thing and it”s counting down. I didn”t come here for help. I”m taking care of it. I came here because, should things not work out today as I would like them to, I want you to know why I was doing the things I did. (struggling) Do you remember when you found that picture in my car of you, me and Chet, with Chet cut out of it? I need you to remember about the picture, and about how I stop by your office every Friday, and how I”ve always hated all your boyfriends, and how the two girls I”ve ever seriously dated have looked like less attractive versions of you. Do you see where I”m going with this? I love you Kate. I have for a very long time.I”m sorry to do this to you, but I was afraid I”d never get the chance to tell you. And I know you have feelings for me, too. Maybe you feel for me the way you feel for a good friend, or – if the world f – hates me – a brother. But what I hope is that you don”t really know how you feel for me, and that maybe when you figure it out you”ll realize it”s the same way I feel for you. Does that make any sense?More Monologues from “30 Minutes or Less”RelatedShareTweetPin
I”m sorry to do this to you, but I was afraid I”d never get the chance to tell you. And I know you have feelings for me, too. Maybe you feel for me the way you feel for a good friend, or – if the world f – hates me – a brother. But what I hope is that you don”t really know how you feel for me, and that maybe when you figure it out you”ll realize it”s the same way I feel for you. Does that make any sense?More Monologues from “30 Minutes or Less”RelatedShareTweetPin
300 (Dilios)
Barely a year ago. Long I pondered my King’s cryptic talk of victory. Time has proven him wise. But from free Greek to free Greek the word was spread that bold Leonidas and his three hundred so far from home laid down their lives not just for Sparta but for all Greece and the promise this country holds. Now here on this ragged patch of earth called Plataea, Xerxes hordes face obliteration. Just there the barbarians huddle, sheer terror and gripping tight their hides with icy fingers, knowing full well what merciless horrors they suffered at the swords and spears of three hundred. Yet they stare now across the plain at ten thousand Spartans commanding thirty thousand free Greeks. The enemy outnumber us a paltry three to one. Good odds for any Greek. This day we rescue a world from mysticism and tyranny and usher in a future brighter than anything we can imagine. Give thanks men, to Leonidas and the brave three hundred. To victory!
300 (King Leonidas)
This is SPARTA!
300 (Queen Gorgos)
Councilmen, I stand before you not only as your queen. I come to you as a mother. I come to you as a wife. I come to you as a Spartan woman. I come to you with great humility. I am not here to represent Leonidas. His actions speak louder than my words ever could.