I admit it. I am a HUGE movie buff. Not old ones, although I consider the fact that I’ve seen almost no Brando, Bogey, Cagney, or Stewart a blessing because I know I will LOVE all those flicks so it’s like there’s a cornucopia of great films waiting out there for me (which is good because the current crop is definitely on the decline).

NOTE: I fully acknowledge that these are my favorites and/or opinions only and that there are literally thousands out there that could just as easily have qualified. So keep it friendly; this is just for fun.

I’ve said it before: if I could go back in time I would go to a great film school (NYU, UCLA, etc.) and become a screenwriter/director. Oh but for a time machine.

There are a few movie monologues/speeches that I wish I could memorize. In fact, funny as it seems, one of my Bucket List items is to do just that. My memory sucks; I never could have been an actor—my best line would have been “LINE!”. But I really will do it one day. In lieu of that for now, I thought I would share some great ones here. They’re superb writing, so I’m not going to say they qualify 100% for my (Or…) category, but do such things really matter? If you read my blog (and by the way I haven’t thanked my regular readers enough lately so THANK YOU!) you know how I write, you know even when it’s about writing it can easily turn to Tony Robbins, like last time. That’s the beauty of it. I don’t really know what I’m going to write next so neither do you, which means we are on this adventure together, so to speak (but not in a weird or creepy way).

So, on with the silver screen moments. Just a few. These are in no particular order. It’s impossible for me to ever pick my favorite anything when it comes to movies or anything to do with movies (such as quotes, etc.). Too many qualifiers. I know what I love, just never make me choose between them. Which reminds me of a great movie quote from one of my all-time favorite movies, The Breakfast Club (though I’m not sure why):

“Some I consider girlfriends, and some I just consider.”

Oh, and since some of these are better quoted in context, the monologue or speech will always been in green.

Perhaps the best long monologue for me. Matt Damon (as Will) interviewing with the NSA in Good Will Hunting:

“Why shouldn’t I work for the N.S.A.? That’s a tough one, but I’ll take a shot. Say I’m working at the N.S.A. Somebody puts a code on my desk, something nobody else can break. Maybe I take a shot at it and maybe I break it. And I’m real happy with myself, ’cause I did my job well. But maybe that code was the location of some rebel army in North Africa or the Middle East. Once they have that location, they bomb the village where the rebels were hiding and fifteen hundred people that I never met and that I never had no problem with get killed. Now the politicians are sayin’, “Send in the marines to secure the area” ’cause they don’t give a shit. It won’t be their kid over there, gettin’ shot. Just like it wasn’t them when their number was called, ’cause they were pullin’ a tour in the National Guard. It’ll be some kid from Southie takin’ shrapnel in the ass. And he comes home to find that the plant he used to work at got exported to the country he just got back from. And the guy who put the shrapnel in his ass got his old job, ’cause he’ll work for fifteen cents a day and no bathroom breaks. Meanwhile he realizes the only reason he was over there in the first place was so we could install a government that would sell us oil at a good price. And of course the oil companies used the skirmish over there to scare up domestic oil prices. A cute little ancillary benefit for them but it ain’t helping my buddy at two-fifty a gallon. They’re takin’ their sweet time bringin’ the oil back, and maybe even took the liberty of hiring an alcoholic skipper who likes to drink martinis and fuckin’ play slalom with the icebergs, and it ain’t too long ’til he hits one, spills the oil and kills all the sea life in the North Atlantic. So now my buddy’s out of work and he can’t afford to drive, so he’s walking to the fuckin’ job interviews, which sucks ’cause the schrapnel in his ass is givin’ him chronic hemorroids. And meanwhile he’s starvin’ ’cause every time he tries to get a bite to eat the only blue plate special they’re servin’ is North Atlantic scrod with Quaker State. So what did I think? I’m holdin’ out for somethin’ better. I figure, fuck it, while I’m at it, why not just shoot my buddy, take his job and give it to his sworn enemy, hike up gas prices, bomb a village, club a baby seal, hit the hash pipe and join the National Guard? I could be elected president.”

Classic.

Next up are Jack Nicholson and Tom Cruise battling it out in the court-martial scene of A Few Good Men:

Kaffee: Colonel Jessep, did you order the Code Red?
Judge Randolph: You don’t have to answer that question!
Col. Jessep: I’ll answer the question!
[to Kaffee]
Col. Jessep: You want answers?
Kaffee: I think I’m entitled to.
Col. Jessep: You want answers?
Kaffee: I want the truth!
Col. Jessep: You can’t handle the truth!
[pauses]
Col. Jessep: 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. Weinburg? I have a greater responsibility than you could 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 of a life spent defending something. You use them 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 that I provide, and then questions the manner in which I provide it. I would 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 are entitled to. 
Kaffee: Did you order the Code Red?
Col. Jessep: I did the job I…
Kaffee: Did you order the Code Red?
Col. Jessep: You’re Goddamn right I did!

Pulp Fiction. Wow, what a flick. My wife’s favorite, by far. I can’t disagree with her. It is Quentin Tarantino’s masterpiece (although Django Unchained and Reservoir Dogs are right there with it in my book). The scene below is Jules (Samuel L. Jackson) explaining to Ringo (Tim Roth) about his new perspective on life as a hit man and his recent epiphany:

Jules: I’m not giving you that money. I’m buying something from you. Wanna know what I’m buyin’ Ringo?
Ringo: What?
Jules: Your life. I’m givin’ you that money so I don’t have to kill your ass. You read the Bible?
Ringo: Not regularly.
Jules: There’s a passage I got memorized. Ezekiel 25:17. “The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the inequities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men. Blessed is he who, in the name of charity and good will, shepherds the weak through the valley of the darkness, for he is truly his brother’s keeper and the finder of lost children. And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who attempt to poison and destroy My brothers. And you will know I am the Lord when I lay My vengeance upon you.” Now… I been sayin’ that shit for years. And if you ever heard it, that meant your ass. You’d be dead right now. I never gave much thought to what it meant. I just thought it was a cold-blooded thing to say to a motherfucker before I popped a cap in his ass. But I saw some shit this mornin’ made me think twice. See, now I’m thinking: maybe it means you’re the evil man. And I’m the righteous man. And Mr. 9mm here… he’s the shepherd protecting my righteous ass in the valley of darkness. Or it could mean you’re the righteous man and I’m the shepherd and it’s the world that’s evil and selfish. And I’d like that. But that shit ain’t the truth. The truth is you’re the weak. And I’m the tyranny of evil men. But I’m tryin’, Ringo. I’m tryin’ real hard to be the shepherd.

Forced at gunpoint to choose, The Shawshank Redemption would likely be my favorite movie of all time (based on Stephen King’s wonderful novella Rita Hayworth and Shawshank Redemption). There aren’t really any monologues in the movie so much as great moments of narration and dialogue. Frank Darabont worked a feat of magic when he wrote this script.

Fear can hold you prisoner

Hope can set you free.

So here are two of my favorite moments in the movie, for your pleasure:

SPOILER ALERT (Don’t read these next narrations if you’ve not seen the movie and plan to.)

Red: [narrating] Sometimes it makes me sad, though… Andy being gone. I have to remind myself that some birds aren’t meant to be caged. Their feathers are just too bright. And when they fly away, the part of you that knows it was a sin to lock them up DOES rejoice. But still, the place you live in is that much more drab and empty that they’re gone. I guess I just miss my friend.

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Red: [narrating] In 1966, Andy Dufresne escaped from Shawshank prison. All they found of him was a muddy set of prison clothes, a bar of soap, and an old rock hammer, damn near worn down to the nub. I remember thinking it would take a man six hundred years to tunnel through the wall with it. Old Andy did it in less than twenty. Oh, Andy loved geology. I imagine it appealed to his meticulous nature. An ice age here, million years of mountain building there. Geology is the study of pressure and time. That’s all it takes really, pressure, and time. That, and a big goddamn poster. Like I said, in prison a man will do most anything to keep his mind occupied. Turns out Andy’s favorite hobby was totin’ his wall out into the exercise yard, a handful at a time. I guess after Tommy was killed, Andy decided he’d been here just about long enough. Andy did like he was told, buffed those shoes to a high mirror shine. The guards simply didn’t notice. Neither did I… I mean, seriously, how often do you really look at a mans shoes? Andy crawled to freedom through five hundred yards of shit smelling foulness I can’t even imagine, or maybe I just don’t want to. Five hundred yards… that’s the length of five football fields, just shy of half a mile.

Braveheart. I know it’s long, but I’m half Scottish and I could watch it again and again.

Every man dies, not every man really lives.

This scene, well, if it doesn’t give you chills, check for a pulse now!

William Wallace: And if this is your army, why does it go?
Veteran: We didn’t come here to fight for them!
Young Soldier: Home! The English are too many!
William Wallace: Sons of Scotland! I am William Wallace.
Young Soldier: William Wallace is seven feet tall!
William Wallace: Yes, I’ve heard. Kills men by the hundreds. And if HE were here, he’d consume the English with fireballs from his eyes, and bolts of lightning from his arse.
[Scottish army laughs]
William Wallace: I am William Wallace! And I see a whole army of my countrymen, here in defiance of tyranny. You’ve come to fight as free men… and free men you are. What will you do with that freedom? Will you fight?
Veteran: Fight? Against that? No! We will run. And we will live.
William Wallace: Aye, fight and you may die. Run, and you’ll live… at least a while. And dying in your beds, many years from now, would you be willin’ to trade ALL the days, from this day to that, for one chance, just one chance, to come back here and tell our enemies that they may take our lives, but they’ll never take… OUR FREEDOM!
[Scottish army cheers]
William Wallace: Alba gu bràth!
[“Scotland forever!”]

I read this following passage from A River Runs Through It at my father’s funeral, just before the bagpipes played Amazing Grace, his only wish for his services (the pipes). And while this is a movie monologue, it comes from the short story by Norman Maclean, and after my father died, we found that book with this passage highlighted (if you haven’t guessed, my father was an avid fly fisherman, even tying his own flies in his younger days):

“Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the world’s great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of the rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs. 
I am haunted by waters.”

There are others, of course, but these are just a few of my favorites. 

Aren’t words the most powerful arsenal we’ll ever own?

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The blank page is dead…long live the blank page.

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