• Monologue Help

    Looking for a monologue? Here are some Lynch tips. 

    1. Be willing to do some research to find the perfect monologue for you. Don't just google monologues. You'll just get the over done ones. 

    2. Know your show. Read up on it. Even sparknote it. Find out what character you are interested in and ten find a monologue that shows you can do that character. Know the plot and general feel of the play. Is it comedic? Dramatic? Maybe a bit of both? What time period was it written? Is it classical or contemporary? 

    3. Let's say the show you are doing is comedic. My first suggestion after you research the show is to google monologues from plays by the same author. (Do NOT do a monologue from the show you are auditioning for.) 

    4. If #3 doesn't find you a good match google "comedic (classical or contemporary) playwrights" and then google monologues from them. 

    5. If #3 and #4 haven't found you your soulmate audition piece then feel free to find a movie monologue. 

    6. Do not just choose the first monologue you read. It may end up being the right one but you want to make sure you have found the piece that highlights your talent. Just like you wouldn't pick the first song you googled for a musical audition (because you may not be able to sing it very well depending on your range) it is the same with monologues. 

    7. I don't suggest writing the monologues. I have only seen it work like twice in my whole career. 

    8. Know the play and playwright your monologue is from. Know what character you are playing. 

    9. Practice your monologue. Time yourself. Cut the monologue down if you need to. Really get into the character. Don't just say the words. Please edit any profanity for your audition. 

    10. Places with good monologues: stageagent.com and backstage.com

    Here are some example monologues: 

    • Arms and the Man: Raina
      • What will he care for my poor little worship after after the acclamations of a whole army of heroes? But no matter: I am so happy -- so proud! It proves that all our ideas were real after all. Our ideas of what Sergius would do -- our patriotism -- our heroic ideals. Oh, what faithless little creatures girls are! -- I sometimes used to doubt whether they were anything but dreams. When I buckled on Sergius’ sword he looked so noble: it was treason to think of disillusion or humiliation or failure. And yet -- and yet -- Promise me you’ll never tell him. Well, it came into my head just as he was holding me in his arms and looking into my eyes, that perhaps we only had our heroic ideas because we are so fond of reading Byron and Pushkin, and because we were so delighted with the opera that season in Bucharest. Real life is so seldom like that -- indeed never, as far as I knew it then. Only think, mother, I doubted him: I wondered whether all his heroic qualities and his soldiership might not prove mere imagination when he went into a real battle. I had an uneasy fear that he might cut a poor figure there beside all those clever Russian officers. Yes, I was only a prosaic little coward. Oh, to think that it was all true -- that Sergius is just as splendid and noble as he looks -- that the world is really a glorious world for women who can see it’s glory and men who can act its romance! What happiness! What unspeakable fulfillment!
      • Shaw, George Bernard. Plays by George Bernard Shaw. Penguin Group Inc, New York, NY. 2004. pp. 103 - 104.
    • As You Like It: Phoebe

      • Think not I love him, though I ask for him.

        'Tis but a peevish boy; yet he talks well;

        But what care I for words? yet words do well,

        When he that speaks them pleases those that hear.

        It is a pretty youth: not very pretty:

        But, sure, he's proud; and yet his pride becomes him:

        He'll make a proper man: the best thing in him

        Is his complexion; and faster than his tongue

        Did make offence his eye did heal it up.

        He is not very tall; yet for his years he's tall:

        His leg is but so so; and yet 'tis well:

        There was a pretty redness in his lip,

        A little riper and more lusty red

        Than that mix'd in his cheek; 'twas just the difference

        Betwixt the constant red and mingled damask.

        There be some women, Silvius, had they mark'd him

        In parcels as I did, would have gone near

        To fall in love with him; but, for my part,

        I love him not nor hate him not; and yet

        Have more cause to hate him than to love him:

        For what had he to do to chide at me?

        He said mine eyes were black and my hair black;

        And, now I am remember'd, scorn'd at me.

        I marvel why I answer'd not again:

        But that's all one; omittance is no quittance.

        I'll write to him a very taunting letter,

        And thou shalt bear it: wilt thou, Silvius?

      • William Shakespeare As You Like It Act 3, sc.5, ll.110-136

    • Tartuffe: Tartuffe
      • Though pious, I am none the less a man; 
        And when a man beholds your heavenly charms, 
        The heart surrenders, and can think no more. 
        I know such words seem strange, coming from me; 
        But, madam, I’m no angel, after all; 
        If you condemn my frankly made avowal 
        You only have your charming self to blame. 
        Soon as I saw your more than human beauty, 
        You were thenceforth the sovereign of my soul; 
        Sweetness ineffable was in your eyes, 
        That took by storm my still resisting heart, 
        And conquered everything, fasts, prayers, and tears, 
        And turned my worship wholly to yourself. 
        My looks, my sighs, have spoke a thousand times; 
        Now, to express it all, my voice must speak. 
      • Moliere
    • Blithe Spirit: Charles
      • (Softly) Ruth!--Elvira!--are you there? (A pause) Ruth!--Elvira!--I know darn well you’re there. (Another pause) I just want to tell you that I’m going away, so there’s no point in your hanging about any longer--I’m going a long way away--somewhere where I don’t believe you’ll be able to follow me--in spite of what Elvira said I don’t think spirits can travel over water. Is that quite clear, my darlings? You said in one of your more acid moments, Ruth, that I had been hag-ridden all my life! How right you were! But now I’m free, Ruth dear, not only of Mother and Elvira and Mrs. Winthrop-Llewellyn, but free of you too, and I should like to take this farewell opportunity of saying I’m enjoying it immensely--
      • Noel Coward