Interpretative Skills

Lesson Files
Lesson Questions

You are required to choose ONE of the monologues below for a practical presentation. Use your knowledge of Interpretative Skills to prepare for your presentation. Monologue presentations will be due when you return to school.

 

Debbie Jellinsky:

" I don’t want to hurt anybody. I don’t enjoy hurting anybody. I don’t like guns or bombs or electric chairs, but sometimes people just won’t listen and so I have to use persuasion, and slides. My parents, Sharon and Dave. Generous, doting, or were they? All I ever wanted was a Ballerina Barbie in her pretty pink tutu. My birthday, I was 10 and do you know what they got me? Malibu Barbie. That’s not what I wanted, that’s not who I was. I was a ballerina. Graceful. Delicate. They had to go. My first husband, the heart surgeon. All day long, coronaries, transplants. “Sorry about dinner, Deb, the Pope has a cold.” Husband number 2: the senator. He loved his state. He loved his country. Sorry Debbie. No Mercedes this year. We have to set an example.” Oh yeah. Set this! My latest husband. My late, late husband Fester, and his adorable family. You took me in. You accepted me. But did any of you love me? I mean, really love me? So I killed. So I maimed. So I destroyed one innocent life after another. Aren’t I a human being? Don’t I yearn and ache…and shop? Don’t I deserve love…and jewelry? Good-bye everybody. Wish me luck."

 

 

 

DUCHESS OF BERWICK: 
"Ah, what indeed, dear? That is the point. He goes to see her continually, and stops for hours at a time, and while he is there she is not at home to any one. Not that many ladies call on her, dear, but she has a great many disreputable men friends--my own brother particularly, as I told you--and that is what makes it so dreadful about Windermere. We looked upon him as being such a model husband, but I am afraid there is no doubt about it. My dear nieces--you know the Saville girls, don't you?--such nice domestic creatures--plain, dreadfully plain,--but so good--well, they're always at the window doing fancy work, and making ugly things for the poor, which I think so useful of them in these dreadful socialistic days, and this terrible woman has taken a house in Curzon Street, right opposite them--such a respectable street, too! I don't know what we're coming to! And they tell me that Windermere goes there four and five times a week--they see him. They can't help it--and although they never talk scandal, they--well, of course--they remark on it to every one. And the worst of it all is that I have been told that this woman has got a great deal of money out of somebody, for it seems that she came to London six months ago without anything at all to speak of, and now she has this charming house in Mayfair, drives her ponies in the Park every afternoon and all--well, all--since she has known poor dear Windermere. It's quite true, my dear. The whole of London knows about it. That is why I felt it was better to come and talk to you, and advise you to take Windermere away at once to Homburg or to Aix, where he'll have something to amuse him, and where you can watch him all day long. I assure you, my dear, that on several occasions after I was first married, I had to pretend to be very ill, and was obliged to drink the most unpleasant mineral waters, merely to get Berwick out of town. He was so extremely susceptible. Though I am bound to say he never gave away any large sums of money to anybody. He is far too high-principled for that!"

 

 

 

Santa's Elf:

"As the leader of the Union of the Order of the North Pole Elves, I stand here today and urge you to say no to Santa! No more working from sunup to sundown without so much as a snickerdoodle break! What does Santa think we are, robots? No, we’re elves, and we have rights! Tinsel, remember when he made you clean Dasher’s stall after he got into that barrel of chocolate? Cleaning chocolate poo is not in the elf job description! And Snazzy, there was that time when he ordered you to let Mrs. Claus use you as a mannequin for the little girl’s dresses she was making. Humiliating! I mean, what the falalala was he thinking? I mean he makes us wear these ridiculous Pinnocchio outfits and sing while we work, while he sits on his big fat butt watching the weather channel. And on Christmas day, he takes ALL the credit. (Imitating children.) “Mom, Santa came! Ooooh, look what Santa got me! How did he know I wanted this?” Listen up children of the world: Santa is not the one who made your train sets, and your dolly houses and your walkie talkies. It was US, the Elves of the Order of the North Pole. We did it all. Santa is just a lazy guy with a wiggly belly who works basically one day a year. Nothing but a gloried delivery man if you ask me! (Pauses. Listens to someone in the audience.) What’s that? Santa is where? (Looks behind him.) Oh fudgesicles."

 

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