Good Morning, I will be doing …

Honest to goodness, I think the hardest part of being an actor is finding monologues. Having been away a bit I decided I needed some new pieces and so I began reading. And reading. And reading. Here’s the thing with monologues. They have to be short. They have to “fit” the actor. They have to grab attention out of the gate and, ideally, they have to have a twist or turn or discovery somewhere in there. In other words, you need to avoid pieces which are about memories of the past (Blanche’s famous monologue from “Streetcar Named Desire” for instance). The character needs to discover something, reveal something during the piece. It can’t be about evoking an emotion. Actors are depressed and sad enough, directors don’t really need proof that you can be depressed or sad. A monologue, like a play, needs to go somewhere. But you have to find one which checks all the boxes which is … wait for it … 90 seconds long. Increasingly the audition calls are for 60 seconds. Really. Insane. Oh, and you generally don’t want something everyone in town is using AND you don’t want something made iconic by a brilliant screen performance. So, maybe you get lucky, you find a piece, work it up, and boom, you are ready, yes? No, wrong. You need multiple pieces. Which fit you, which go somewhere, and last no longer than 90 seconds (or 60). Which are fresh and not overdone. You need a contemporary drama piece, a contemporary humorous piece, a classical piece, a non-Shakespeare classical piece, a few accent pieces, and, depending on how you are cast, maybe a mid-20th century piece, a character piece, etc etc etc. So, I currently have seven working monologues and am working it up to 12(ish). The biggest of the big challenges? Humorous pieces. I get it, after a day or two of watching angst-filled monologues I have loved the rare actor who can find a funny piece. But it ain’t easy. Comedic plays are often about fast back and forth dialogue. The humor is found in how the lines bounce around, get received, how a new line is delivered. When you talk humor as a monologue it usually becomes stand-up. Stand-up can make you laugh (thanks, Mrs. Maisel) but it’s different from humor found in a play. Do the directors want you to make them laugh or do they want to see you being funny in context of a character? Do they want something laugh-out-loud or just “light”? It’s a challenge, and one I haven’t resolved. In the meantime, it’s back to the books for me. Still have to find that funny piece.