Whether it’s a breakup, a personal loss, or a radical shift in reality that leads to heartbreak, somebody’s probably written a monologue, soliloquy, or speech about it. Here are a few old favorites (or maybe new finds!) from across film and TV.
1. “This Is Us”: Kevin Pearson grapples with the state of his life
By the second season of “This is Us,” Kevin Pearson (Justin Hartley) has hit rock bottom, been on top of the world, and hit rock bottom again. After returning to his hometown to receive a distinguished alumni award he doesn’t feel he deserves, Kevin heads to his high school football field to reflect on losing his father, his relationship, his career, and his sense of purpose. This speech is good in text but fantastic in delivery if pulled off correctly by leaning into its emotional nuance and sense of loss.
What up, gridiron, huh? What’s it been, 20 years or so? Alright. Pearson lines up under center. Two rushing touchdowns already tonight. What can this kid not do? Can’t go four hours without a Vicodin, that’s what he can’t do. But everybody loves him anyway. Waaa! Pearson! Blue 42. Blue 42. Set, hut, hut. Ball is hiked. Pearson drops back. He looks left. He pump fakes. He rolls to his right. He tucks the ball. He’s in traffic. Shucks the defender. He looks downfield. He’s got a man open. Wide open. He sees his entire future. Notre Dame, Heisman Trophy, first-round draft pick, Rookie of the Year, Super Bowl MVP. He sees his dad in the stands as he holds the Super Bowl trophy. His dad’s proud of him, like tears down his eyes proud of him. He says, “That’s my son… That’s my son.” Pearson’s about ready to release. He cocks back. Boom! He’s down, folks. Ladies and gentlemen, Pearson’s down and he’s not getting up. His knee is wrecked. He’s not coming back from this one, folks. It is over for Kevin Pearson. Will he get up? He will. Ladies and gentlemen, he will, he’ll get up. Kevin Pearson will walk again, just in time to bury his beloved father. That’ll keep him down for good this time, right? Nope. Nope, he’s… Nope, he’s up again… he’s up again and he’s marrying the terrific girl. He’s off to Hollywood and it’s a… it’s a happy ending for Kevin Pearson. Whoa! Wait. Nope. Hold on now. He cheats on the girl. Yes, that’s right, he loses her. And how’s he punished? Well, he gets a sitcom and he makes millions, ladies and gentlemen. Waaa! Crowd goes wild. What will he do with his lucky second chance? Ladies and gentlemen, he’ll blow it, that’s what he’ll do. He blows it all. Surely, the universe has to punish him this time, right? Wrong! He gets the girl back. Now he’s got the girl back and it’s a movie this time! And then, plop! Oww! There goes the same knee. Bam. He’s down again. And he tries so hard to be strong… and he needs painkillers to get through it. And then when he tries to tell people how pathetic he is, they just… they don’t hear it. They just cheer.
2. “The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel”: Susie remembers her friend Jackie
When the usually brash Susie Meyerson (Alex Borstein) realizes that the funeral for her roommate Jackie Dellapietra (Brian Tarantina) isn’t well attended, she defiantly marches his portrait into a different funeral across the hall to speak about him. What starts off as a run-of-the-mill eulogy turns into a deep reflection on regular people and what it means to know and care about someone. Borstein is amazing here, but this is a great monologue for anyone who wants a speech that combines deep, honest heartbreak with moments of comedy and levity.
Hi. Sorry. I’ll just be a minute here. I’m supposed to say a few words about Jackie Dellapietra, who’s over there, across the hall, in the empty loser room. But, well, I can’t talk about him to an empty room. That’s not how it should go. That’s not how he should be remembered. Or not remembered. ’Cause apparently, no one remembered, because nobody showed up. Except four people. Four people to send you off. Where the fuck was everyone? A man dies, you show up at his funeral, right? And this was Jackie. I mean, he never hurt anyone. He lived his life, did nice things, he fixed up my shitty apartment. Put up curtains, he painted, he made stew, he built whatever the hell it was he built for the fucking monsignor over there. But apparently no one gave a shit. No one noticed. Fuck, I live with the guy and I didn’t notice. And we slept very close. I mean, I knew personal things about him. You know, he snores, certain foods did not agree with him—you kept the windows open on those nights. I knew his laundry day, I knew when he cut his hair, shit like that. But I never knew him. I never knew he fought in the war. I never knew he got a medal for bravery. I mean, they don’t just hand those out. You got to get shot, or—or save somebody, or blow up a fucking tank. A medal is a big deal! He collected Bazooka Joe comics. He kept the little ticket stubs to the opera. He had a baseball signed by Babe Ruth! Can you fucking believe that? Jackie met Babe Ruth! He kept it in a shoebox like an asshole, but he had it. I mean, this guy lived a life, and I never knew any of this. It was just a minute ago I found out I was his friend. No, sorry—one of his closest friends. I had a close friend, and I never knew it. And where the fuck is Darla? Hmm? She couldn’t take off one afternoon to come and pay her respects to a man she wrote 51 fucking idiotic letters to? A heart over every “I”! What was so important she couldn’t take the time off to come and give this man a proper sendoff? She better be dead. You know I really don’t understand. How is it a decent guy, a guy who worked his ass off his entire life, how it is he could barely afford to sublet the corner of my shithole apartment? I mean, he never caught a break. He never got ahead. How fucked up is that? And all these fucking horrible assholes in the world that just get shit handed to them. This guy fought in a war! He traveled and… Oh! He won a Lindy contest! I didn’t know Jackie could dance. Half the time it didn’t seem like he could walk. But there is a first place ribbon sitting in this fucking weather-beaten, rat-eaten, fucked up little box that he shoved in a corner. A man’s life. In a shitty box. A really good man’s life. A man who deserved something and he wound up sprinkling sawdust on vomit at the Gaslight! This can’t continue, OK? I can’t stand by and watch this happen to some other poor slob. So I’m dedicating the rest of my miserable fucking life to finding the Jackies of the world, the ones you walk by, the ones you don’t see, the ones who never catch a break, and I’m going to make sure that they never, ever, end up in my fucking apartment!
3. “La La Land”: Mia can’t take it anymore
After a particularly poor showing of her one-woman show, actor Mia (Emma Stone) returns home to Nevada defeated. When her love interest Seb (Ryan Gosling), who missed her one-woman show, shows up at her door with an acting opportunity, she shoots him down, telling him she’s done auditioning. This is a great monologue for anyone who wants to explore heartbreak outside of interpersonal relationships—giving up on a dream is as about as earth-shattering as it gets.
Because I’ve been to a million auditions and the same thing happens every time. Where I get interrupted because someone wants to get a sandwich. Or I’m crying and they start laughing. Or there’s people sitting in the waiting room, and they’re, they’re like me but prettier and better at the…because maybe I’m not good enough… Maybe I’m one of those people that has always wanted to do it, but it’s like a pipe dream for me. You know, and then… You said it, you change your dreams and then you grow up. Maybe I’m one of those people and I’m not supposed to. And I can go back to school and I can find something else that I’m supposed to do. ‘Cause I left to do that. And it’s been six years and I don’t wanna do it anymore.
4. “Frasier”: It’s not just a chair
You might not expect to find one of TV’s most heartbreaking monologues in a sitcom episode, but you’d be surprised. After his son Frasier (Kelsey Grammer) swaps his dumpy old recliner for a new chic one, Martin (John Mahoney) reveals the reason why he’s so upset: It’s not really about the chair; it’s about the way it ties him to memories. Though it’s brief, this piece has a great arc, moving from angry to poignant to pointed, and can be a great feature for an older actor.
Well, this couldn’t have worked out any better for you, could it? You’ve been trying to get rid of that chair from the day I moved in here… Like hell!... Hey, let me tell you something. That chair was the only thing that made me feel comfortable in this house—that made me feel that maybe this was my home too… I suppose you’re going to be throwing Eddie out by the dumpster next!... I’ll tell you what chair I want. I want the chair I was sitting in when I watched Neil Armstrong take his first step on the moon. And when the U.S. hockey team beat the Russians in the ’80 Olympics. I want the chair I was sitting in the night you called me to tell me I had a grandson. I want the chair I was in all those nights, when your mother used to wake me up with a kiss after I’d fallen asleep in front of the television. You know, I still fall asleep in it. And every once in a while, when I wake up, I still expect your mother to be there, ready to lead me off to bed... Oh, never mind. It’s only a chair. Come on, Eddie.
5. “The White Lotus”: Rachel ends things with Shane
After a hellish week full of her new husband Shane’s (Jake Lacy) chauvinistic antics, Rachel (Alexandra Daddario) has had enough. Faced with a life of sidelining her own career for her arrogant husband, she decides to end things. It’s a unique take on heartbreak in that it’s self-imposed, but Rachel is as much trying to end things with Shane as she is grieving the person she thought he was and the life she thought she’d have. It’s a great monologue in that it’s incredibly active; even without interjections from Shane, you get the sense that Rachel doesn’t know how he’ll react or what exactly she’s going to say.
I... I can’t believe that I’m saying this, but, uh... I think I made a mistake… The mistake is... the mistake is... getting married... to you… Shane, when I met you, I was... in a weird place. And, uh... I had my bad breakup, and work was so frustrating. And... And then you came along, and you’re so handsome, and I was so attracted to you, and you had so much going on, and... going around the city with you was like a fantasy. All the doors opened, and then you asked me to marry you, and... And look, I admit, when I was little, I had princess dolls, and... I was a girly girl and I dreamt about my wedding day and—and Prince Charming and all that shit… And then I… And then I got caught up in the wedding, and that was the last five months, basically. And everyone, you know, I could tell thought I was so lucky, and that made me feel good. But like in the dumbest way. Because... Because now I’m here and… And... I realize... I don’t wanna be a plus one my whole life… No, I’m not blaming you for anything. You’ve done nothing wrong… Shane, this is about me. I’m not okay with being a trophy wife, an appendage like all these other women in your world… I just need to respect myself… You’re the baby, Shane. Coddled by your mommy, who showed up on your honeymoon. You don’t get the room you want, so you throw a never-ending tantrum. I genuinely cannot believe what a baby-man you can be.
6. “Forrest Gump”: Forrest talks to Jenny
Toward the end of the Oscar-winning film, Forrest Gump (Tom Hanks) talks to the gravesite of his wife Jenny (Robin Wright) and updates her on his life. It’s gut-wrenching yet simple and honest. Recognizable material can be daunting, and should only be attempted if you feel you can give it a fresh take—but in the case of “Forrest Gump,” the writing is too strong not to include it.
You died on a Saturday morning, and I had you placed here, under our tree. And I had that house of your father’s bulldozed to the ground. Mama always said dying was a part of life. I sure wish it wasn’t. Little Forrest, he’s doing just fine. ’Bout to start school again soon. I make his breakfast, lunch, and dinner every day. I make sure he combs his hair and brushes his teeth every day. Teaching him how to play ping-pong. He’s really good. We fish a lot. And every night we read a book—he’s so smart, Jenny. You’d be so proud of him. I am. He, uh, wrote you a letter, and he says I can’t read it. I’m not supposed to, so I’ll just leave it here for you. Jenny, I don’t know if mama was right or if it’s Lt. Dan. I don’t know if we each have a destiny or if we’re all just floating around accidental, like on a breeze. But I think maybe it’s both, maybe both is happening at the same time. I miss you, Jenny. If there’s anything you need, I won’t be far away.
7. “Moonstruck”: Loretta breaks down heartbreak
In the iconic romantic comedy “Moonstruck,” Loretta (Cher) has a candid conversation with her fiancé’s brother, Ronny (Nicolas Cage), whose own fiancée recently left him. This one is a bit of fun because it’s about heartbreak two times over—Loretta shares her own grief, sure, but only to diagnose Ronny’s in a way that he can’t seem to see for himself. It’s also a great monologue if you’re looking to tackle the topic of heartbreak in a way that leaves you in the position of power. Most heartbreak monologues leave their deliverers a sad, sniveling mess, but Loretta remains strong and frank throughout—which you can (and should!) bring to auditions.
I was raised that a girl gets married young. I held out for love. I got married when I was 28. I met a man. I loved him. I married him. And then he wanted to have a baby right away, and I said no, that we should wait. And then he gets hit by a bus. So what do I got? I got no man, no baby, no nothing. How did I know that that man was a gift I couldn’t keep? My one chance of happiness. You tell me this story and you act like you know what it means, but I can see what the true story is, and you can’t. That woman didn’t leave you, OK? You can’t see what you are. And I see everything. You’re a wolf! The big part of you has no words and it’s a wolf. That woman was a trap for you. She caught you and you couldn’t get away. So you chewed off your own foot! That was the price you had to pay for your freedom. Johnny had nothing to do with it. You did what you had to do, between you and you. And now… Now you’re afraid because you know the big part of you is a wolf that has the courage to bite off its own hand to save itself from the trap of the wrong love. That’s why there’s been no woman since that wrong woman, OK? You’re scared to death of what the wolf will do if you try and make that mistake again.
8. “This Is Us”: Sophie realizes this isn’t going to work
Two “This is Us” monologues on one list? There could be a thousand, since the Pearson clan famously loves to give a big speech. Here, Sophie (Alexandra Breckenridge) comes to terms with the fact that she and ex-husband Kevin (Hartley) might have too much baggage to ever make things work again. What starts as a fairly banal anecdote about fast-forwarding through Kevin’s appearances on TV turns into a metaphor about how intertwined the two are—and how, despite that, they probably won’t ever work out. This is a wonderful choice for anyone looking for a monologue that plays up conflicting feelings.
You know, Grant and I used to have this inside joke that whenever you were on TV, he would pretend to fast-forward. You know, and he would make the sound, like the old TiVo used to make. Well, some random Tuesday night, there you were again, on TV, and, you know, he did the thing like he always did, and I tried to play along with it, I did, but I don’t know, I just, I couldn’t do it anymore. I don’t know what it was about that moment, but I just realized... that I’m never gonna be able to fast-forward through you. That’s the kind of hold you’ve had over me, Kevin. That’s how much I have carried you with me. It’s too much. Kevin, it’s too much. We have decades of history between us… I can’t go backwards. I can’t. I can’t—I can’t do this. I can’t, I’m sorry, I’m just—I’m sorry.
9. “Shrinking”: Paul expresses his gratitude
At a Thanksgiving gathering, stubbornly independent (and lovable curmudgeon) Paul (Harrison Ford) gives a heartfelt toast to his friends and coworkers. It’s ultimately grateful, but there’s a cloud of sadness, too, as he faces the reality and heartbreak of his continuing struggles with Parkinson’s disease and his own mortality. It’s a tearjerker, for sure, and a rare great showcase for an older male actor. But it’s also hopeful enough to not be too much of a downer to bring into the audition room.
Most of you know that I’m here under duress. I don’t really like being the center of attention. [Mmm, that’s not true.] It is when I’m not in control. Like I wasn’t in control of... about being here today. I’m also not in control of this. I didn’t take my pills because I... I wanna save them for when I really need them. Not to hide from you. Sometimes it’s hard not to feel sorry for myself. You know, poor me with my... failed, fragile body. But then, I look around this room and I say to myself, “Lucky guy. I’m a lucky guy.” I don’t know how much longer I’m gonna have to work with you, hang out with you, laugh with you. Road’s gonna get tougher and tougher. But I do know that I’ll get through it because of everyone in this room. And that’s what I’m... that’s what I’m thankful for. ’Cause we can get through anything if we have people to lean on. I’m leaning on you. I’m leaning on you.
10. “Hacks”: Deborah’s thoughts on loss
A monologue about heartbreak usually implies a pretty sad monologue, but if you want to tackle this topic through a heavy lens of levity, you’ve come to the right place. In this clip from “Hacks,” Deborah (Jean Smart) discusses her life’s biggest disappointments: losing her husband and her late-night show (though not necessarily in that order!). Obviously, in the context of the show, it’s a stand-up set—but if handled correctly, we think it could be reframed as a conversation that’s both honest and legitimately funny.
My sister stole my husband. I thought it was bad enough when she just stole my dolls. That was truly the worst feeling in the world. And I... Actually, no, it wasn’t. It actually wasn’t the worst feeling in the world. The worst feeling in the world was losing a late-night show. I’m serious! That was absolutely the worst. I mean, I had the opportunity to host my own late-night TV talk show. I would’ve been the first woman ever to do that. But it never aired. And that had been my dream, and I was so close. I got over my husband, but I never got over that. No joke. I was a wreck. At one point, my little girl came up to me and she asked if it was her fault. And I said, “No, honey. Of course not. I mean, the network loved you. It just…” And she was like, “No, I mean when you and Daddy got divorced.” Oh, that! Hey, sir, how ’bout you? What is the worst thing that’s ever happened to you?... Cancer. That is a sad one. And I’m sorry. But let me ask you a question. If you had one wish, would you rather bring your mom back to life or host a late-night talk show?... See, I can’t relate to that! Are you crazy? We’re talking 11:30 time slot here. Syndication!