The Methuen Drama Book of Modern Monologues for Women

Teens to Thirties

Dee Cannon, Dee Cannon

• Publisher: Oberon Books
• Year: 2016
• ISBN:
  9781783199402
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Literatur
• Subtopic: Britisches Drama

Monologues are an essential part of every actor's toolkit. Actors need them for drama school entry, training, showcases and when auditioning for roles in the industry. Edited by Dee Cannon, author of the bestselling In-Depth Acting, this book showcases selected monologues from some of the finest modern plays by some of today's leading contemporary playwrights. The monologues contain a diverse range of quirky and memorable characters that cross cultural and historical boundaries, and comes in a brand new format, with a notes page next to each speech, acting as an actor's workbook as well as a monologue resource.

PINEAPPLE

by Phillip McMahon

Pineapple premiered at the Droichead Arts Centre on 29 April 2011 in a production by Calipo Theatre Company in association with the Drogheda Arts Festival.

A play about a group of friends, four women and one man, set in the Ballymun Flats, exploring friendship, love and family.

Roxanna is hanging out in a mucky field sipping on Bacardi Breezers with her best friend Steph.

ROXANNA – 16 (IRISH)

Me aunty is real strict; fuckin’ weapon she is … but she’d to stay out one night, ’cos some auld one she minds was sick, or dyin’ or somethin’.

So it was just me in the gaff with Simon; me cousin. He works in Tesco or somethin’.

And we’re sat in front of fuckin’ Family Fortunes. All ready for bed I was, in me pyjamas, and Simon pulls on me pony tail.

He’s a bit of a sap, but he’s sound like. So I reefed him back. Like reefed him.

And I musta hurt him, ’cos he was all … bruised pride or … you shoulda seen the face on ’im … and he clatters me/

Not like … anyway (Points at her ring.) I send a sovereign his way, but he catches me.

Grabs me real rough.

Pins me down; elbow on me chest and the breath all caught in me throat … and he … kisses me Steph.

Me cousin.

Works his tongue through me teeth; all spit and hot air …

So I kiss him back; ’cos it doesn’t mean anything, ye know?

And he’s all gentle now; the soft couch and the TV. And he’s shakin’; his hand and his top lip.

And he draws his fingers across me stomach; like he’s writin’ his name or …

The stretch of elastic then; cold hands, and me no knickers … his face on fire … eyes burnin …

Get your fuckin’ fingers outta me lunch box!

Fucker gets all flustered then. Simple fuck.

’Cos the horn is wearin’ off or maybe ’cos it clicks in his tiny mind that he was about to finger his sixteen-year-old cousin; and he catches me by the throat like a dog – chokin’ me.

I turn out the big guns then. Boo-hooin’ for mercy. Drip drip on the aunty’s good shag.

Works a’ coarse.

He’s all, Oh Fuck.

Catchin’ his breath or his thoughts or …

Holdin’ his head like a looper.

Oh Fuck.

The accent on ’im.

Throws himself round the room, Oh-in and fuck-in.

Simon, I says, Chill out ye sap, it’s cool. And you’d swear I just donated me life’s savin’s to his favourite charity ’cos he’s all grateful. Thanks me, and shakes me hand – the fuckin’ eejit – says he wants to take me into town for a straightner.

I’d to be at the doctors first thing is the thing, but he’s all – no bother, no bother – says it’s him taking me. Makes no difference if I’m hung over or not, once his Ma’s none the wiser; mum, he calls her.

So we drive into town and he pays for everything, and we get pallatic on WKD ’til six in the mornin’ … and I’d to be up again at nine!

VELOCITY

by Daniel MacDonald

Velocity was first performed at Persephone Theatre, Saskatoon, SK, Canada on 16 February 2011 and at the Finborough Theatre, London, on 27 April 2014.

Dot has a very open relationship with her mother, who has just announced to her daughter that she thinks she might be pregnant.

This speech doesn’t have to be played with a Canadian accent.

DOT – 15 (CANADIAN)

Any woman who thinks she’s pregnant usually is.

For example, I don’t think I’m pregnant.

Oh, I’ve thought it before. That I’ve been pregnant. But then I think about it for a while and then think I’m probably not. And then … I’m not. I always wonder if – for that little bit of time that I think I’m pregnant – that maybe I actually am pregnant. And then I just think the whole thing right out of me. And then I get my period and I’m not. It’s worked every time. I can’t imagine a more powerful or more convenient method of birth control. It’s like if cartoon characters could get pregnant. One minute they’d be pregnant and the next they’d be like, not. Abortions would be so easy. It’d be like, the Little Mermaid or something walking along all pregnant in one frame and everybody would be all hey weren’t you pregnant? and the Little Mermaid would be like, nuh-uh. Do I look pregnant to you? And everybody would forget all about it.

(To audience or to herself.) The two things she most regrets about me. She has no idea how fertile I am right now. I could smell a fucking tulip or look at a rabbit the wrong way and I’d be … (She demonstrates pregnancy by extending her belly awkwardly.)

I saw a picture once. It was beautiful. Black and white from an old Life Magazine or something … A woman, a very beautiful woman, blond, Marilyn hair, the darkest lips and the whitest skin, threw herself off of a building. A tall building, like my dad’s building, and landed on top of a car. The roof. She was dead. The roof just gave way perfectly to her body like a hammock. She was still so beautiful. No blood, no bruises, just laying there on her side. Her skirt still modestly covering her thighs the way it should. Wouldn’t that be great? To die beautiful? I don’t need to die peacefully, or painlessly. Some people want to die spectacular. I want to die beautiful.

VELOCITY

by Daniel MacDonald

Velocity was first performed at Persephone Theatre, Saskatoon, SK, Canada on 16 February 2011 and at the Finborough Theatre, London, on 27 April 2014.

Dot finds great enjoyment in provoking and shocking her father. Here, she takes a deep breath before she blurts out the following to her Dad.

This speech doesn’t have to be played with a Canadian accent.

DOT – 15 (CANADIAN)

I am going to have sex tonight. It is going to be the first time I ever have sex. It is going to occur on the basement floor in this house of this boy I barely know but just chatted with online. He seems cool. It is going to be without protection. It is going to hurt enough but I’ll be quiet because his little brother is playing Grand Theft Kill Destroy Rape Video Game on the other side of the black pleather couch. The actual act is going to take 40 seconds ending in the boy’s spunky sperm running down my leg and onto the shag carpet where he’s going to make it disappear by smushing his foot into it. This will occur because at the last second I force him to pull out because he never would have himself because either he has no idea what actually is supposed to happen or he assumes that I know what I’m doing and that I understand what measures should be taken to ensure non-pregnancy etcetera. Which I do. Entirely by accident. By hearing other girls speak about it in the same way they talk about blush or shampoo. I am going to be sad and I am going to walk in the house and you are going to be asleep on the couch and Mom is already going to be in bed and I am going to regret that my parents who grill me over everything whether they give a shit or not, weren’t here to grill me on what I did that night because at least then I would be forced to lie. To do something other than nothing.

RESPONSIBLE OTHER

by Melanie Spencer

Responsible Other was first performed at Hampstead Theatre, Downstairs on 20 June 2013.

Alice comes over to visit her best friend Daisy, who, at this stage, is ill with an unknown disease and confined to her home. Here, Daisy is asleep on the couch in the living room.

ALICE – 15 (UK)

Why are you always asleep when I get here?

Some of us have been at school all day.

Slaving away. At school. You know? School.

What did you dream about?

Mr Phillips?

But you did, didn’t you?

You had sex with Mr Phillips in your dream didn’t you?

OMG. You literally did have sex with him in your dream though, didn’t you?

ALICE eats a biscuit.

Only had a packet of Chipsticks for lunch.

But they are literally sticks of air. You can’t survive on them.

I’ve been starving all day, so it’s working.

Phas...