“I love the smell of napalm in the morning. You know, one time we had a hill bombed for 12 hours. When it was all over, I walked up. We didn't find one of 'em, not one stinkin' dink body. The smell, you know that gasoline smell - the whole hill. Smelled like victory. Someday this war's gonna end.”
Apocalypse Now (1979)
Robert Duvall as Lt. Colonel Kilgore
Screenplay by John Milius and Francis Ford Coppola
(Click below for the rest)
The Usual Suspects (1995)
Kevin Spacey as Verbal Kint
Screenplay by Christopher McQuarrie
Braveheart (1995)
Mel Gibson as William Wallace
Screenplay by Randall Wallace
Jaws (1975)
Robert Shaw as Quint
Screenplay by Peter Benchley
Good Will Hunting (1997)
Robin Williams as Sean Maguire
Screenplay by Matt Damon and Ben Affleck
Friday, February 29, 2008
5 Great Movie Monologues
“He's supposed to be Turkish. Some say his father was German. Nobody ever believed he was real. Nobody ever knew him or saw anybody that ever worked directly for him, but to hear Kobayashi tell it, anybody could have worked for Soze. You never knew. That was his power. The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn't exist. One story the guys told me – the story I believe was from his days in Turkey. There was a gang of Hungarians who wanted their own mob. They realize to be in power, you didn’t need guns, or money, or even numbers. You just needed the will to do what the other guy wouldn’t. After a while, they come into power and then they come after Soze - he was small time then - just runnin’ dope, they say. They come to his home in the afternoon, looking for his business. They find his wife and kids in the house and decide to wait for Soze. He comes home to find his wife raped and his children screaming. The Hungarians knew Soze was tough – not to be trifled with – so they let him know they meant business. They tell him they want his territory – all his business. Soze looked over the faces of his family, then he showed these men of will what will really was. He tells him he would rather see his family dead than live another day after this. He lets the last Hungarian go. He waits until his wife and kids are in the ground and then he goes after the rest of the mob. He kills their kids; he kills their wives; he kills their parents and their parents' friends. He burns down the houses they live in and the stores they work in. He kills people that owe them money. And like that he was gone. Underground. Nobody has ever seen him since. He becomes a myth, a spook story that criminals tell their kids at night. "Rat on your pop, and Keyser Soze will get you." And noone ever really believes.”
“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 willing 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!”
“Japanese submarine slammed two torpedoes into our side, Chief. We was comin' back from the island of Tinian to Leyte – just delivered the bomb. The Hiroshima bomb. 1100 men went into the water. Vessel went down in 12 minutes. Didn't see the first shark for about a half an hour. Tiger. 13-footer. You know how you know that when you're in the water, Chief? You tell by looking from the dorsal to the tail. What we didn't know- was our bomb mission had been so secret, no distress signal had been sent. They didn't even list us overdue for a week. Very first light, Chief, sharks come cruisin', so we formed ourselves into tight groups. You know, it was kinda like old squares in the battle like you see in the calendar named "The Battle of Waterloo" and the idea was- shark comes to the nearest man, that man he starts poundin' and hollerin' and screamin' and sometimes the shark go away – but sometimes he wouldn't go away. Sometimes that shark he looks right into ya. Right into your eyes. And, you know, the thing about a shark – he's got lifeless eyes. Black eyes. Like a doll's eyes. When he comes at ya, doesn't seem to be living – until he bites ya, and those black eyes roll over white and then – ah, then you hear that terrible high-pitched screamin'. The ocean turns red, and despite all the poundin' and the hollerin', they all come in and they – rip you to pieces. You know by the end of that first dawn, lost a hundred men. I don't know how many sharks, maybe a thousand. I know how many men, they averaged 6 an hour. On Thursday morning, Chief, I bumped into a friend of mine, Herbie Robinson from Cleveland. Baseball player. Boatswain's mate. I thought he was asleep. I reached over to wake him up. Bobbed up and down in the water just like a kinda top. Upended. Well, he'd been bitten in half below the waist. Noon, the fifth day, Mr. Hooper, a Lockheed Ventura saw us. He swung in low and he saw us... he was a young pilot, a lot younger than Mr. Hooper. Anyway, he saw us and he come in low and 3 hours later a big fat PBY comes down and starts to pick us up. You know that was the time I was most frightened – waitin' for my turn. I'll never put on a lifejacket again. So, 1100 men went in the water; 316 men come out and the sharks took the rest, June the 29th, 1945. Anyway, we delivered the bomb.”
"So if I asked you about art, you'd probably give me the skinny on every art book ever written. Michelangelo - you know a lot about him: life's work, political aspirations, him and the Pope, sexual orientations - the whole works, right? But I'll bet you can't tell me what it smells like in the Sistine Chapel. You've never actually stood there and looked up at that beautiful ceiling, seen that. If I ask you about women, you'd probably give me a syllabus about your personal favorites. You may have even been laid a few times. But you can't tell me what it feels like to wake up next to a woman and feel truly happy. You're a tough kid. And I'd ask you about war, you'd probably throw Shakespeare at me, right? ‘Once more into the breach, dear friends.' But you've never been near one. You've never held your best friend's head in your lap, and watch him gasp his last breath looking to you for help. I'd ask you about love, you'd probably quote me a sonnet. But you've never looked at a woman and been totally vulnerable. Known someone that could level you with her eyes, feeling like God put an angel on Earth just for you - who could rescue you from the depths of hell. And you wouldn't know what it's like to be her angel, to have that love for her, be there forever, through anything, through cancer. And you wouldn't know about sleeping sitting up in the hospital room for two months, holding her hand, because the doctors could see in your eyes that the term ‘visiting hours’ don't apply to you. You don't know about real loss, because that only occurs when you've loved something more than you love yourself. And I doubt you've ever dared to love anybody that much. I look at you - I don't see an intelligent, confident man. I see a cocky, scared sh!tless kid. But you're a genius, Will. No one denies that. No one could possibly understand the depths of you. But you presume to know everything about me because you saw a painting of mine, and you ripped my f*cking life apart. You're an orphan, right? You think I know the first thing about how hard your life has been, how you feel, who you are, because I read Oliver Twist? Does that encapsulate you? Personally, I don't give a sh!t about all that, because you know what, I can't learn anything from you I can read in some f*cking book. Unless you want to talk about you - who you are. Then I'm fascinated. I'm in. But you don't want to do that, do you, sport? You're terrified of what you might say. Your move, chief."
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