Contemporary Australian Monologues for Men

Claire Grady, Emma Rose Smith, Claire Grady, Emma Rose Smith

• Publisher: Currency Press
• Year: 2017
• ISBN:
  9781760621957
• Topic: Media & Performing Arts
• Subtopic: Acting & Auditioning

'This is particularly out of character for me.'%##CHAR13##%%##CHAR13##%Monologues are a crucial element of theatre, for actors and students alike. From high school study to professional auditions and performances, the monologue exposes the heart of a play and the capacities of the performer.%##CHAR13##%%##CHAR13##%The monologue should be relevant to the performer, and a revelation to the audience. This new collection brings together 30 monologues from contemporary Australian plays. These voices—from ages 14 to 84, from the 1880s to the near future—showcase the best of our national writing for the stage.%##CHAR13##%%##CHAR13##%Featuring monologues written by: %##CHAR13##%%##CHAR13##%JANE BODIE • ANDREW BOVELL • KIT BROOKMAN • NICHOLAS BROWN & SAM MCCOOL • PATRICIA CORNELIUS • BRENDAN COWELL • EAMON FLACK • RICHARD FRANKLAND • MICHAEL GOW • R. JOHNS • RASHMA N. KALSIE • FINEGAN KRUCKEMEYER • SUZIE MILLER • ROSS MUELLER • LUKE MULLINS & LACHLAN PHILPOTT • KATE MULVANY & CRAIG SILVEY • TOMMY MURPHY & TIMOTHY CONIGRAVE • JOANNA MURRAY-SMITH • LACHLAN PHILPOTT • LEAH PURCELL • MELISSA REEVES • DAMIEN RYAN • MATTHEW RYAN • STEPHEN SEWELL • KATHERINE THOMSON • CHRISTOS TSIOLKAS • ALANA VALENTINE • MATTHEW WHITTET

CYRANO

From Cyrano de Bergerac by Damien Ryan

In Ryan’s adaptation of Rostand’s classic, Cyrano is a soldier, a swordsman, a poet, musician, fighter, philosopher and astronomer. Valvert, a theatre worker, has just called a spade a spade and described Cyrano’s nose as ‘very big’. Cyrano is disappointed with Valvert’s lack of eloquence and is encouraging him to be more inventive in his description. We have cut some of the other characters’ lines to create this monologue.

The things you could have said before this choir,

To belittle this eruption, this erection;

Oh, for a second chance, ‘A muse of fire,

To ascend the brightest heaven of invention’.

Let me direct you; first, let’s try—Aggressive:

‘Fetch the guillotine! Let’s amputate!’

No, too much attack, too early; try—Impressive:

‘Wow! The blood bank must be thrilled when you donate’.

Theatrical: ‘A plague on both these houses …!’

Decorum: ‘Please put that back in your trousers’.

Olympian: ‘On’ya marks, get set— [thrusting his head forward] I never lose!’

Pythagoras: [measuring his nose] ‘Bet the squares don’t equal that hypotenuse!’

Erotic: Do you like ‘nasal’? Just the tip!

Oh, come on, you’ve all seen a stiff upper lip!

Sightseeing: ‘Ah, the pyramid of Giza—Jesus!—look at the pyramid on that geezer!’

A gift: ‘For your coalmines … it’s a canary’.

Aqualine: ‘I’d love to see your Julius Caesar,

You could beware the Ides of March in February …’

Envious: ‘Wish I could smoke in the rain!’

Bewilderment: ‘You oughta see the grindstone …!’

Telegram for Mr Bergerac: ‘Oh, again …

Paris wants to excavate more limestone’.

Friendly: ‘Usher—I’d like to buy this man a drink,

A bloody Mary. No, a Looonnnggg Island ice tea.’

Curious perhaps: ‘What makes you blink?

Is it reflex or too much gravity?’

Then just plain Thoughtless: ‘You’d look good in mink.

But use your nasal hair, you’ll save a fortune.’

Or—Controversial: ‘I suppose you think

A face like this will legalise abortion?’

A huge reaction from the crowd at the scandalous reference, so he has to reign it back in to less offensive material.

Alright, apologies, apologies …

A touch more Gracious: ‘You must be fond of birds,

To give them such a vast and Gothic perch’.

Existential, or if you like, Absurd:

‘We’ve found God! He has a portable church’.

Artistic: ‘Your self-portrait … is a landscape,

Isn’t it?’, or perhaps Geology:

‘Is that a rock, a headland, or a cape?

Looks more like a peninsula to me!’

Cartography? Ohh yes: ‘Hope that mountain’s not to scale …!’

Moby Dick? You’d have me call my nose a whale? Well …

‘We’ve found her, Cap’m, thar she blows’!

Archeological: ‘We also found the Grail!

‘It was there the whole time, right under his nose!’

Desperate: ‘Give up smoking, you can do it,

We’ve lost a dozen chimney sweeps this week,

It’s Dickensian to put these children through it;

Close those Satanic Mills, it’s just too bleak’.

Or …

Captain’s Log, ‘We’re four miles from the peak!’

Surgical: [sniffing] ‘Ah, I think we’ve lost a nurse …’

Emily Bronte: ‘There’s some Heights to make you Wuther’.

Oedipal: ‘This cold is like a curse,

Give me a tissue, wife’. ‘What am I, ya mother?’

Commercial: ‘A sign! … For a perfumery!’

Fiscal: ‘Don’t open both of those accounts’.

Biblical: ‘When it bleeds, it’s the Red Sea’.

Grateful: ‘Well … I guess it’s the snort that counts …’

He finds a newspaper on the piano.

Ah, the classifieds: ‘Warehouse available! Subdivided!’

Déjà vu: ‘I’ve seen that nose before … No, I can’t pick it …

Beat.

I mean I really can’t pick it!’

‘Oh, I know you now … you’re um … you’re … Easter Island!’

Transport: ‘On the Metro, do you buy two tickets?’

Typical actor: ‘Bet the acoustics up there are fantastic’.

[A sudden sneeze] Aachoo!—‘Hayfever! Get a beaver! We’ll build a dam!’

Costume party: ‘Okay, that mask is a little drastic …’

René Descartes: [with a big sniff] ‘You stink, therefore I am …’

St Nicholas!—Easy one, come on … piece of cake …

‘He sees you when you’re sleeping, he NO … SE wh...