Great Movie Speeches V 1.0 | Script Gods

 
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Great Movie Speeches: Mix 1
March 24th, 2017 by paul peditto

king_of_comedy

Why couldn’t I have written King Of Comedy? I could croak in peace having penned that serious black comedy. Deniro as Rupert Pupkin, a loooooooong way from “you talking to me” Travis Bickle. I doubt this makes many people’s Top 3 Scorsese movies but it makes mine because, I’m mean– who thinks up a story like this? Sandra Bernhard tying up Jerry Lewis with gaffer tape and having an intimate dinner with him?! Tell me you’ve seen it… If not, get on it.

Pupkin’s lifelong dream, doing standup on a Johnny Carson-like Tonight Show leads off my Best Speeches V 1.0. These are classic movie monologues and I’ve accompanied the script with the clip to see the changes made from the original conception. Hope these inspire your own screenplay. Writing that key monologue is a bitch, but if you pull it off, you might just be remembered 100 years from now.

Also here, fav scenes from Amadeus and two different takes on Love and Hate. Vamos!

  • KING OF COMEDY: PUPKIN DOES STAND-UP
133   INT:   THE STAGE - NIGHT

      Finally after what seems like an eternity, PUPKIN emerges,
      straightening his jacket a bit and trying to crane the
      kinks out of his neck. He is a bit tense but very high
      and in full command. As he delivers his monologue, PUPKIN
      is more confident, comfortable and self-assured than we
      have ever seen him.

                         PUPKIN
             Good evening, ladies and gentleman.
             Let me introduce myself. My name is
             Rupert Pupkin. I was born in Clifton,
             New Jersey, which was not, at that
             time, a federal offense. (laughter)
             Is there anyone here from Clifton?
             (silence) Good. We can all relax.
             Now, I'd like to begin by saying that
             my parents were too poor to afford me
             a childhood but the fact is nobody is
             allowed to be really poor in Clifton.
             Once you fall below eleven thousand
             you're exiled to Passaic. My parents
             did, in fact, put down the first two
             payments on my childhood. Then they
             tried to return me to the hospital
             as defective.   But, like everyone else
             I grew up in large part thanks to my
             mother. If she was only here today
             I'd say, "Hey, mom. What are you
             doing here? You've been dead for
             nine years?" (laughter) You should
             have seen my mother. She was wonderful
             -- blonde, beautiful, intelligent,
             alcoholic. (laughter) We used to
             drink milk together after school.
             Mine was homogenized. Hers was loaded.
             (laughter) Once she was picked up for
             speeding. They clocked her doing fifty
             -- in our garage. (laughter) When
             they tested her they found that her
             alcohol was two per cent blood. They
             took away her license and she died
             shortly afterwards. We used to joke
             together Mom and me, until the tears
             would stream down her face and she'd

             throw up. (laughter) And who would
             clean it up? Not Dad. He was too
             busy down at O'Grady's throwing up on
             his own. In fact, until I was sixteen,
             I thought throwing up was a sign of
             maturity. While the other kids were
             off in the woods sneaking cigarettes, I
             was hiding behind the house with my
             fingers down my throat. (laughter)
             I never got anywhere until one day,
             my father caught me. Just as he was
             giving me a final kick in the stomach,
             for luck, I managed to heave all
             over his new shoes. "That's it,"
             I thought. "I've made it. I'm
             finally a man!" (laughter) As it
             turned out, that was the only time my
             father ever paid any real attention
             to me. He was usually too busy out
             in the park playing ball with my
             sister, Rose. And, today thanks to
             those many hours of practice, my
             sister Rose has grown into a fine man.
             (laughter) Me, I wasn't especially
             interested in athletics. The only
             exercise I ever got was when the
             other kids picked on me. They used
             to beat me up once a week, usually
             Tuesday. After a while, the school
             worked it into the curriculum. And,
             if you knocked me out, you got extra
             credit. (laughter) Except there was
             this one kid who was afraid of me. I
             kept telling him, "Hit me! Hit me!
             What's the matter with you? Don't you
             want graduate?" As for me, I was
             the only kid in the history of the
             school to graduate in traction. The
             school nurse tucked my diploma into
             my sling. But my only real interest,
             right from the beginning, was show
             business. Even as a young man, I
             began at the very top, collecting
             autographs. (laughter)

  • AMADEUS: VOICE OF GOD
                                     CONSTANZE
                         That's very tempting, but it's 
                         impossible, I'm afraid. Wolfi would 
                         be frantic if he found those were 
                         missing. You see, they're all 
                         originals.

                                     SALIERI
                         Originals?

                                     CONSTANZE
                         Yes.

               A pause. He puts out his hand and takes up the portfolio 
               from the table. He opens it. He looks at the music. He is 
               puzzled.

                                     SALIERI
                         These are originals?

                                     CONSTANZE
                         Yes, sir. He doesn't make copies.

                                                                    CUT TO:

               INT. OLD SALIERI'S HOSPITAL ROOM - NIGHT - 1823

               The old man faces the Priest.

                                     OLD SALIERI
                         Astounding! It was actually beyond 
                         belief. These were first and only 
                         drafts of music yet they showed no 
                         corrections of any kind. Not one.  
                         Do you realize what that meant?

               Vogler stares at him.

                                     OLD SALIERI
                         He'd simply put down music already 
                         finished in his head. Page after 
                         page of it, as if he was just taking 
                         dictation. And music finished as no 
                         music is ever finished.

               INT. SALIERI'S SALON - LATE AFTERNOON - 1780'S

               CU, The manuscript in Mozart's handwriting. The music begins 
               to sound under the following:

                                     OLD SALIERI (V.O.)
                         Displace one note and there would be 
                         diminishment. Displace one phrase, 
                         and the structure would fall. It was 
                         clear to me. That sound I had heard 
                         in the Archbishop's palace had been 
                         no accident. Here again was the very 
                         voice of God! I was staring through 
                         the cage of those meticulous ink-
                         strokes at an absolute, inimitable 
                         beauty.

               The music swells. What we now hear is an amazing collage of 
               great passages from Mozart's music, ravishing to Salieri and 
               to us. The Court Composer, oblivious to Constanze, who sits 
               happily chewing chestnuts, her mouth covered in sugar, walks 
               around and around his salon, reading the pages and dropping 
               them on the floor when he is done with them. We see his 
               agonized and wondering face: he shudders as if in a rough 
               and tumbling sea; he experiences the point where beauty and 
               great pain coalesce. More pages fall than he can read, 
               scattering across the floor in a white cascade, as he circles 
               the room.

               Finally, we hear the tremendous Qui Tollis from the Mass in 
               C Minor. It seems to break over him like a wave and, unable 
               to bear any more of it, he slams the portfolio shut. 
               Instantly, the music breaks off, reverberating in his head. 
               He stands shaking, staring wildly. Constanze gets up, 
               perplexed.

                                     CONSTANZE
                         Is it no good?

               A pause.

                                     SALIERI
                         It is miraculous.


  • LOVE AND HATE: NIGHT OF THE HUNTER

  • LOVE AND HATE: DO THE RIGHT THING
Radio Raheem approaches Mookie.

					MOOKIE
		  Whaddup.  Money?

					RADIO RAHEEM
		  I was going to buy a slice.

					MOOKIE
		  I'll be back after I make this
		  delivery.

					RADIO RAHEEM
		  On the rebound.

Mookie stares at the gold "brass knuckles" rings Radio
Raheem wears on each hand.  Spelled out across the rings are
the words "LOVE" on the right hand and "HATE" on the left
hand.

					MOOKIE
		  That's the dope.

					RADIO RAHEEM
		  I just copped them.  Let me tell
		  you the story of Right-Hand--Left-
		  Hand--the tale of Good and Evil.

					MOOKIE
		  I'm listening.

					RADIO RAHEEM
		  HATE!

He thrusts up his left hand.

					RADIO RAHEEM
		  It was with this hand that Brother
		  Cain iced his brother.  LOVE!

He thrusts up his right hand.

					RADIO RAHEEM
		  See these fingers, they lead
		  straight to the soul of man.  The
		  right hand.  The hand of LOVE!

Mookie is buggin'.

					RADIO RAHEEM
		  The story of Life is this...

He locks his fingers and writhes, cracking the joints.

											    46.


					RADIO RAHEEM
		  STATIC!  One hand is always fighting
		  the other.  Left Hand Hate is
		  kicking much ass and it looks like
		  Right Hand Love is finished.  Hold
		  up.  Stop the presses!  Love is
		  coming back, yes, it's Love.  Love
		  has won.  Left Hand Hate KO'ed by
		  Love.

Mookie doesn't know what to say, so he doesn't say anything.

					RADIO RAHEEM
		  Brother, Mookie, if I love you I
		  love you, but if I hate you...

					MOOKIE
		  I understand.

					RADIO RAHEEM
		  I love you, my brother.

					MOOKIE
		  I love you, Black.


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