Wow, the mother lode

Choose your favourite…in the big noise devoted to its first line, one forgets how blisteringly powerful the rest of the speech (and its delivery by Jicholson) is…

[quote]Jessep: You want answers?
Kaffee (Tom Cruise): I think I’m entitled to them.
Jessep: You want answers?
Kaffee: I want the truth!
Jessep: You can’t handle the truth! Son, we live in a world that has walls. And those walls have to be guarded by men with guns. Who’s gonna do it? You? You, Lt. Weinberg? I have a greater responsibility than you can possibly fathom. You weep for Santiago and you curse the Marines. You have that luxury. You have the luxury of not knowing what I know: that Santiago’s death, while tragic, probably saved lives. And my existence, while grotesque and incomprehensible to you, saves lives…You don’t want the truth. Because deep down, in places you don’t talk about at parties, you want me on that wall. You need me on that wall.
We use words like honor, code, loyalty…we use these words as the backbone to a life spent defending something. You use 'em as a punchline. I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain myself to a man who rises and sleeps under the blanket of the very freedom I provide, then questions the manner in which I provide it! I’d rather you just said thank you and went on your way. Otherwise, I suggest you pick up a weapon and stand a post. Either way, I don’t give a damn what you think you’re entitled to!
Kaffee: Did you order the code red?
Jessep: (quietly) I did the job you sent me to do.
Kaffee: Did you order the code red?
Jessep: You’re goddamn right I did!!

I also like how he credits the writer for each one.

Colin’s Movie Monologues

Great find.

But a silly question: how much interaction can take place before it’s no longer a monologue?

Excellent find chief. I spent an hour at work today reading quite a few gems.

[quote]C.D. Bales: Alright. Alright, twenty something-betters. Uh, here goes. Uh, start with, uh, obvious: Excuse me, is that your nose or did a bus park on your face? Meteorlogical: Everybody take cover, she’s going to BLOW! Fashionable: You know, you could de-emphasize your nose if you wore something larger - like Wyoming. Personal: Well, here we are, just the three of us. Punctual: Alright, Delmond your nose was on time, but you were fifteen minutes late! Envious: Ooooooh, I wish I was you! Gosh, to be able to smell your own ear! Naughty: Uh, pardon me, sir, some of the ladies have asked if you wouldn’t mind putting that thing away. Philosophical: You know, it’s not the size of a nose that’s important, it’s what’s in it that matters! Humorous: Laugh, and the world laughs with you - sneeze and it’s goodbye Seattle! Commercial: Hi, I’m Earl Shive and I can paint that nose for $39.95! Polite: Uh, would mind not bobbing your head, the, uh, orchestra keeps changing tempo. Melodic: Everybody!
Everyone with C.D.: He’s got the whole world – in his nose!
C.D. Bales: Sympathetic: Awww, what happened, did your parents lose a bet with God? Complimentary: You must love the little birdies to give them this to perch on. Scientific: Say, does that thing there influence the tides? Obscure: Whooof, I’d hate see the grindstone. (a few people laugh) Think about it. Inquiring: When you stop to smell the flowers, are they afraid? French: (with an accent) Say, the pigs have refused to find any more truffles until you leave! Pornographic: Finally, a man who can satisfy two women at once! (lots of cheers) How many is that?
Man: Fourteen, chief!
C.D. Bales: Alright, alright. Religious: The Lord giveth, and he just kept on giving, didn’t he? (crowd shouts out how many he has after each new one) Disgusting: Say, who mows your nose-hair? Uhhh…paranoid: Keep that guy away from my cocaine! Aromatic: It must be wonderful to wake up and smell the coffee - in Brazil. Appreciative: Oooooh, how original! Most people just have their teeth capped! Alright, uh… (crowd shouts encouragement) Alright. Dirty: (leaning towards the original heckler) Your name wouldn’t be DICK, would it?[/quote]

I read the site. I wish people just wrote their films down. The only film that doesn’t give me psychic epilepsy is the Jurassic Park Trilogy.

written by Charlie Kaufman & Donald Kaufman

Charlie Kaufman: Do I have an original thought in my head, my bald head? Maybe if I were happier, my hair wouldn’t be falling out. Life is short; I need to make the most of it. Today is the first day of the rest of my life. I’m a walking cliché. I really need to go to the doctor and have my leg checked. There's something wrong. Oh well. The dentist called again, I'm way overdue. If I stopped putting things off, I would be happier. All I do is sit on my fat ass, if my ass wasn’t fat, I would be happier. I wouldn’t have to wear these shirts with the tails out all the time; like that’s fooling anyone. Fat ass. I should start jogging again. Five miles a day; really do it this time. Maybe rock climbing; I need to turn my life around. What do I need to do? I need to fall in love. I need to have a girlfriend. I need to read more; improve myself. Maybe I should learn Russian or something. Or take up an instrument. I could speak Chinese. I could be the screenwriter who speaks Chinese and plays the oboe. That would be cool. I should get my hair cut short; stop trying to fool myself and everyone else into thinking I have a full head of hair. How pathetic is that? Just be real. Confident. Isn't that what women are attracted to? Men don’t have to be attractive. But that's not true, ''specially these days. There's almost as much pressure on men as there is on women these days. Why should I be made to feel like I should apologize for my existence? Maybe it's my brain chemistry. Maybe that’s what's wrong with me. Bad chemistry... all my problems and anxiety can be reduced to a chemical imbalance or some kind of misfiring synapses. I need to get help from them; but I'll still be ugly though. Nothing is going to change that.[/quote]

(Monty walks into the bathroom. He looks in the mirror. In the bottom corner, someone’s written Fuck You!)
Monty: Yeah, fuck you, too.
Monty’s Reflection: 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 caf廥, 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.
Monty: No. No, fuck you, Montgomery Brogan. You had it all and then you threw it away, you dumb fuck!
(He takes a breath and tries to rub away the words.)

No Withnail and I, or Naked. Only one from Snatch, of which there are many fine speeches.

It’s all user-submitted, so quit whinging, get off your €10 butt, and do something about it.
Democracy in action, pinhead.

It’s all user-submitted, so quit whinging, , and do something about it.
Democracy in action, pinhead.

I would, but unfortunately it’s completely pointless …

Are you saying it’s small, or that it doesn’t get me far in Paris?

It’s all user-submitted, so quit whinging, , and do something about it.
Democracy in action, pinhead.

I would, be unfortunately it’s completely pointless …

Are you saying it’s small, or that it doesn’t get me far in Paris?[/quote]

Actually I thought that was fairly pricey…

Wow Ed Norton. Have to rectify not seeing that.