REASONS TO BE PRETTY
MONOLOGUE
GREG What’d I learn from this—all that’s happened to me? Shit, I dunno. Nothing, probably, which is my
usual pattern. I have no doubt learned absolutely nothing and will be able to apply none of these life lessons to
my actual . . . day-to-day routine. Sad but true. (Beat.) No, that isn’t fair, I do—I should be a more positive
person if I can. All right, yes, I’m very positive that I learned nothing from my breakup with Stephanie. (Smiles.)
Just being silly, sorry. No, I think that I came outta this with a new sense of, I dunno, at least a better
understanding of me, of who I am as a person. Yeah. Not that I like what I see, mind you . . . not so sure about
that, but at least I feel more aware that I’ve got needs and faults and, and, you know—all that shit. But what did
I learn? Ummm, learned to make myself clear, to try and be a bit more straightforward about my feelings—to try
and have feelings, anyway!—try and never sign up for work-related team sports, if possible . . . picked up that
little tip. (Grins.)
Kidding. Sort of. No, I’ll tell you what I really got a better sense of in these last months, it was this: not just that
beauty and stuff like that is only skin deep—we always hear that—but that it may not even actually exist. It’s this
mirage . . . some nonexistent thing, really, that we see on people’s faces or in what we imagine their bodies to be
and it has so little, I mean, absolutely almost no real value with anything important or tangible in our lives, and
yet we can’t stop from chasing it . . . which is crazy.
It’s nuts!
We follow our eyes and our, you know—forgive me here, dicks—and for what? Hmmm? Why? It has nothing to
do with a person, or is such a small, small part of who they really are as human beings as to not even be of any
consequence . . . or shouldn’t be, in the scheme of things. And yet we can’t stop staring at movies and TV shows
and tons of magazines . . . all of ’em saying that beauty is this big deal. It isn’t! It’s so not—some girl has a pretty
face and we fall all over ourselves giving her flowers and modeling contracts and working so hard to get into
those panties of hers . . .
● Tips:
Understand Greg’s Mindset – He’s frustrated, cynical, maybe even a little self-deprecating. He’s
reflecting on his past but also realizing some deep truths. Feel that weight as you speak.
Start Casual, Then Let It Sink In – Begin with a light, almost dismissive tone when he jokes
about learning nothing. Then, as the monologue progresses, let the realization hit—like he’s uncovering
something painful he didn’t fully acknowledge before.
Use Pauses for Impact – The (Beat.) and moments of hesitation should feel real, like Greg is
figuring this out as he speaks. Pause, let thoughts linger, and don’t rush through big realizations.
Vary Your Tone – Some lines should be sarcastic, some bitter, and some vulnerable. When Greg
says, “Not that I like what I see, mind you…” makes it softer, almost like he’s admitting something he
doesn’t want to.
Use Physicality – Shake your head when he laughs bitterly, look down when he’s lost in thought,
and maybe even rub your hands together or fidget when he’s struggling with the truth.
Emphasize the Breaking Points – When he gets to “It’s crazy. It’s nuts!” let the frustration
show—maybe get louder, more desperate. And when he says “It has nothing to do with a person…”
slow down, make it hit like a revelation.
Laugh, but Make It Empty – Greg laughs at certain points, but these aren’t happy laughs—they’re
the kind of laughs people give when they’re covering up pain. Let those moments feel hollow.
End with a Gut Punch – The last few lines should feel like resignation. He’s not angry
anymore—he just knows this is how things are. Maybe say the last line a little softer, like he’s tired of the
truth.
