Here are some examples of dramatic monologues for men you can use to practice.
Dramatic Monologue for Men 1: A Few Good Men
Monologue Length: 2 minute
Jessup: 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, Lieutenant 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 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!
Dramatic Monologue for Men 2: The Invisible Man
Monologue Length: 1 minute
Eversman: I was talking to Blackburn the other day…and he asked me, you know, what changed? Why are we going home? And I said, “Nothing.” That’s not true, you know. I think everything’s changed. I know I’ve changed. You know, a friend of mine asked me, before I got here, just right when we were all shipping out, he asked me, “Why are you going to fight somebody else’s war? What, do you all think you’re heroes?” I didn’t know what to say at the time, but…if he asked me again, I’d say no. I’d say there’s no way in hell. Because nobody asks to be a hero…it just sometimes turns out that way. (he solemnly places his hand on Smith’s chest) I’m gonna talk to your ma and pa when I get home, okay?
Dramatic Monologue for Men 2: American Psycho
Monologue Length: 2 minute
Patrick: I live in the American Gardens Building on West 81st Street on the 11th floor. My name is Patrick Bateman. I’m 27 years old. I believe in taking care of myself, and a balanced diet and a rigorous exercise routine. In the morning, if my face is a little puffy, I’ll put on an ice pack while doing my stomach crunches. I can do a thousand now. After I remove the ice pack I use a deep pore cleanser lotion. In the shower I use a water activated gel cleanser, then a honey almond body scrub, and on the face an exfoliating gel scrub.
Then I apply an herb-mint facial masque which I leave on for 10 minutes while I prepare the rest of my routine. I always use an after shave lotion with little or no alcohol, because alcohol dries your face out and makes you look older. Then moisturizer, then an anti-aging eye balm followed by a final moisturizing protective lotion. There is an idea of a Patrick Bateman. Some kind of abstraction. But there is no real me. Only an entity. Something illusory. And though I can hide my cold gaze, and you can shake my hand and feel flesh gripping yours, and maybe you can even sense our lifestyles are probably comparable, I simply am not there.
