Contemporary Monologues for Women
To this day, I still keep an audition binder, or a monologue anthology as I like to call it, with a collection of monologues that I’ve recycled over the years. From film, tv and theater, this binder includes a plethora of marked, used and (bruised) performance pieces, most of which I’ve used throughout my career.
I’ve noticed that keeping a record of old scripts and acting materials has helped, making life so much easier during those last-minute auditions that require a comedic monologue, a dramatic monologue or a combination of the two. Going back to something I’ve previously performed (and marked up) gives me comfort, especially considering the fact that I don’t need to memorize something from scratch.
What is a Monologue?
For context, a monologue is an un-interrupted chunk of dialogue performed by a single character (on screen or on stage). Think of your favorite film, television or on-screen speeches! The length of a monologue can vary drastically, depending on factors like length of play, character intention, and context of show.
Where to Find Monologues
A monologue typically exists in a play or a theatrical narrative of some sort, in which case, it’s important to familiarize yourself with different types of plays that feature the type of characters you want to play. In some cases, monologues exist on their own, as educational resources for actors looking for a singular performance piece.
If you’re looking for a quick piece to audition (or simply rehearse with), check out some of these websites. They offer monologues of all types and resources for actors, student performers (and even drama teachers):
Concord Theatricals (great for researching and/or licensing a show you’re looking to produce)
How to Choose a Monologue
There are many factors to consider when selecting a monologue. You’ll want to choose a monologue that’s:
Active not passive – where you’re “talking” to someone, instead of reminiscing about something that happened in the past. There are exceptions however, especially if a passive monologue can still feel intentional and urgent (I’ve included one, in the list below!)
Has a clear objective – or intentional motive that drives a moment forward. Think: what is it that my character wants and how will they get it? If your monologue answers these questions, then you’ve likely picked a good one!
Has a strong arch – a clear beginning, middle and end, details a natural rise and fall allowing audience members to easily follow along.
Other logistical factors to consider include:
Keeping it short (IF necessary) – Typically, 1 minute – 90 seconds is enough time (unless otherwise stated).
Your actor type – choose a monologue that falls in line with your actor type and the roles that you can realistically play.
Genre and style – similar to your actor type, you want to pick a genre (comedy or drama) and a style (contemporary or classical) that compliments your talent. At the end of the day, auditions serve as a place to put your best foot forward – so pick something you can do, and do well!
How do Actors use Monologues?
Actors use monologues for different reasons. While they are primarily used for auditions, actors might also use them for educational purposes as rehearsal pieces or as classroom assignments. Some of the monologues I’ve listed below were actually assigned to me (way back in the day) in my high school theater class!
Monologues for Women
If you’re looking for a new monologue then check out some of the ones I’ve included below. They are all from contemporary theater plays and work best for actresses who are able to play young female characters, generally between the ages of 20 to early 30s. For the sake of this blog post, I’ve narrowed them down into sections including:
Comedic Monologues for Women
Dramatic Monologues for Women
The following mix includes a selection of shorter and longer pieces but remember that you can always cut and adjust your speeches to make them shorter, if necessary.
Comedic Monologues for Women
Laughing Wild | by: Christopher Durang | Character: Woman | Notes: an emotionally unstable woman talks about a grocery shopping trip gone wrong.
“I want to talk to you about life. It’s just too difficult to be alive, isn’t it, and try to function? There are all these people to deal with. I tried to buy a can of tuna fish in the supermarket, and there was this person standing right in front of where I wanted to reach out to get the tuna fish, and I waited a while, to see if they’d move, and they didn’t—they were looking at tuna fish too, but they were taking a real long time on it, reading the ingredients on each can like they were a book, a pretty boring book if you ask me, but nobody has; so I waited a long while, and they didn’t move, and I couldn’t get to the tuna fish cans; and I thought about asking them to move, but then they seemed so stupid not to have sensed that I needed to get by them that I had this awful fear that it would do no good, no good at all, to ask them, they’d probably say something like, “We’ll move when we’re goddam ready you nagging bitch” and then what would I do? And so then I started to cry out of frustration, quietly, so as not to disturb anyone, and still, even though I was softly sobbing, this stupid person didn’t grasp that I needed to get by them, and so I reached over with my fist, and I brought it down real hard on his head and screamed: “Would you kindly move asshole!!!” And the person fell to the ground, and looked totally startled, and some child nearby started to cry, and I was still crying, and I couldn’t imagine making use of the tuna fish now anyway, and so I shouted at the child to stop crying—I mean, it was drawing too much attention to me—and I ran out of the supermarket, and I thought, I’ll take a taxi to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, I need to be surrounded with culture right now, not tuna fish.”
Charge | by: Eric Kaiser | Character: Martha | Notes: a young woman has a dramatic self-reflection.
“In the beginning, I am mean and greedy and selfish. This is symbolized by three things, A: There is a half-finished sculpture of an angel in my garage. B: There is a hungry little boy that sleeps on my doorstep every night that I call the police on. And C: I have a dying father that I haven't talked to in years. Then one day I see the error of my ways. I don't know how, I don't know. But I see it. Then: [Pause, a little smile.] The song comes on. And in the three minute duration of this song. I make all of the changes I need to in my life. They are symbolized by A: I finish the angel sculpture in my garage, and incidentally it is a masterpiece. B: I feed the little hungry boy on my porch, I bring him in the home and incidentally he becomes a senator and loves me. And finally C: I call my Father and tears stream from our eyes as we tell each other we love one another, and incidentally moments later he dies. But I tell him in time. And then moments later all is right in the world and this is symbolized by an ambient, light that my soul generates. [She is choked up.] Excuse me. Excuse me. It's just so dramatic. I do all that in the duration of a three minute song. It frustrates me so that I can't change like that. It is amazing how the people whose stories are told by movies, during the duration of one song, can switch their whole life around. I want a dramatic life like that.”
Tassie Suffers | by: Ken Friedman | Character: Elaine | Notes: a distressed actress talks about another failed audition.
My day? You want to hear about my day? No, you don’t! Does anyone really give a damn about my day? No! But, you asked! So, okay, I’ll tell you. Today, I spent three and a half hours in line waiting for another goddamn audition. I know. I know… But, It was for this daring, new avant-garde theater group that was going to do The Cherry Orchard in a totally wild way: outdoors in a real forest. Yes! And everyone gets to chop down a tree! Hey, I went. And there must have been over a hundred actors in line, several with sharpened axes. Why didn’t I think of that? All I had on was a peasant apron, my red babushka, and heavy boots. But, I looked terrific. For what? Because, just as I’m nearing the head of the line; just when I’m up to my ass in emotional borscht; the word came out: THEY CHANGED THE PLAY! You heard me. Changed it! Four from the door and it was now an untitled comedy about a vegetable market in Trenton, New Jersey. Is that stupid? But, there were three roles for women. A ghetto teen: tough, but who secretly reads Plato, an aging produce woman who once had an affair with Fidel Castro (remember him?) and an oversexed librarian who loves young boys more than she loves old books. When I read that list, I flipped. I’m right for all of them! But, now I’m at the door and I’m still wearing my goddamn boots. I’m screwed! “Next!” I go in. “Okay, Tassie, do you know the roles that are open? Three women. Good. Honey, relax. Take a few moments… and improvise.” “Huh? Improvise what?” “Improvise. We want to see what you can come up with. Be free. Have fun. Enjoy.” Have fun? Enjoy? You nitwit! Have you been standing in line since Tuesday? My throat is dry. My hands are wet. And who the hell am I supposed to be? The tomato-selling Cubaphile, the philosophic juvenile, or the oversexed pedophile? They waited. I waited. And then it happened. I exploded. I burst into the greatest single audition ever give anywhere by anyone! And when it was all over, I stood painting in a silence that deserves to be called: enchanted. And finally, one of them, a man who looked sort of worried, said: “That… you… very… interesting…” Interesting? Is the goddamn Venus DeMilo interesting? “Thank you, uh… Miss Manson. Do you need your picture…?” And so I left. Again. I walked out… But, I was great! They may not know it, because they measure me against themselves. But, I know what I did. And so do you. And as of today, I am special! No matter what they say! I mean, what the hell do those murders know? So, of course, well now I am a little let down. A little depressed. But, I’ll be fine. God. So that was my day. Okay, now how the hell was yours?”
Dramatic Monologues for Women
The Piano Lesson | by: August Wilson| Character: Berniece | Notes: a mother stands up for herself and defends her position as a woman.
“I got enough on my hands with Maretha. I got enough people to love and take care of. You trying to tell me a woman can’t be nothing without a man. But you alright, huh? You can just walk out of here without me – without a woman – and still be a man. That’s alright. Ain’t nobody gonna ask you, “Avery, who you got to love you?” That’s alright for you. But everybody gonna be worried about Berniece. “How Berniece gonna take care of herself? How she gonna raise that child without a man? Wonder what she do with herself. How she gonna live like that?” Everybody got all kinds of questions for Berniece. Everybody telling me I can’t be a woman unless I got a man. Well, you tell me, Avery – you know – how much woman am I?”
Temporary Heroes | by: David Mathew Barnes| Character: Shelby | Notes: a young waitress tells her co-worker that they should move out and start a new life… together.
“I’m saying, let’s leave. Let’s just go. We can catch a train and get out of here. Out of Vinnie’s and this neighborhood and New York and this… trap that were getting stuck in. Don’t you want your freedom? Don’t you want to go and write and see things and do things and just live? I wanna sing, Sal. I wanna sing more than anything in this whole world. But I wanna be with you. I want to feel right. We can go and leave this place and finally get to be young. There’s so much we haven’t seen or done. We’ve been so busy taking care of everybody else. You know I’ve spent my entire life looking after my mother. And you and your family and your brothers and sisters. Well, what about us? Don’t we get a chance? I love you, Sal. And I have from the first day we met. And it’s not just your eyes or your smile or the way you say my name… it’s your words and your talent and it’s who you are and what we’ve become together. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
Gem of the Ocean | by: August Wilson| Character: Black Mary | Notes: a woman finally stands up for herself and defends who she is and how she works.
“Here! You cook it! You turn it down! I can’t do everything the way you want me to. I’m not you. You act like there ain’t no other way to do nothing. I got my own way of doing things. I like the fire high. That’s how I cook. You like it down. That’s how you cook. If you ain’t cooking you ain’t got nothing to say about it. All you got to worry about is the eating. It’s been three years now I can’t do nothing to satisfy you. I might as well lay down somewhere and forget about it. You got something to say about everything. Turn the fire down. Wash the greens in the other pot. Shake that flour off that chicken. Tuck in the corners of the sheets. That too much starch. That ain’t enough salt. I’m tired of it! Your way ain’t always the best way. I got my own way and that’s the way I’m doing it. If I stay around here I’m doing it my own way.”
Getting Out | by: Marsha Norman | Character: Arlie | Notes: a troubled woman who recently got out of prison recalls a rebellious moment from her adolescence.
“So, there was this kid, see, this creepy little fucker next door. Had glasses and something wrong with his foot. I don’t know, seven maybe. Anyhow, every time his daddy went fishin,’ he’d bring back this kid some frogs. They built this fence around ‘em in the backyard like they was pets or something.’ And we’d try to go over and see ‘em but he’d start screaming to his mother to come out and get rid of us. Real snotty like. So we got sick of him being such a goody-good and one night me and June snuck over there and put all his dumb ol’ frogs in this sack. You never heard such a fuss. Slimy bastard frogs. We was plannin’ to let them go all over the place, but they started jumpin’ an all. So, we take ‘em out to the front porch and throwed ‘em one atta time out into the street. Most of ‘em got squashed, you know, runned over? It was great, seein’ how far we could throw ‘em, over our backs and under our legs, and man, it was really fun watchin ‘em fly through the air then SPLAT all over somebody’s car window or something.’ Then the next day, we was waitin’ and this little kid comes out in his backyard lookin’ for his stupid frogs and he don’t see ‘em and he gets so crazy cryin’ and everthin.’ So me and June goes over and tells him we seen this big mess out in the street, and he goes out and sees all ‘em frog legs and bodies everywhere, and man it was so funny. We about killed ourselves laughin.’ Then his mother came out and she wouldn’t let him go out and pick up all the pieces, so he just had to stand there watchin’ all the cars go by smashin’ his babies right into the street. I’s gonna run and git him a frog’s head, but June yellin’ at me, “Arlie, git over here before some car slips on them frog guts and crashes into you.” I never had so much fun in one day in my whole life.”
