SkeeK
The Original, Rock n' Roll Doggie, VIP PASS
I adapted Walk to the Water into a monologue that I performed for my final exam in drama class this year. The worst thing about it is that due to my interpretation, one of the best parts of the song didn't really make sense (i'm on the outside, let me in, let me love you) and i didn't work it in.
Here is the character analysis (notice the clever u2 references I worked in
) that I had to write as well, and following it is the actual monologue.
Character Analysis:
Billy Fallon was born in the Irish town of Enniscorthy. His parents were not rich. Billy?s father was a miner who received a very meagre amount of work; his mother worked at a dress shop. They struggled to pay the rent, the electricity bill, and feed themselves. Billy hated his childhood and resented his parents for the fact that they were so poor. When he was 14 he packed his skimpy possessions and left the house with not so much as a word of farewell to his parents. He headed towards Dublin, hoping to find a job, a living, a future in the ?big city?. Contrary to his optimistic aspirations, Dublin was no proverbial walk in the park. It caused him almost as much grief as had his home in Enniscorthy, but he resented it less because he was responsible for himself; no parents breathing down his neck.
In Dublin he went from painting billboards to shelving groceries to pumping gas, never finding a job that was lucrative at all. He drifted away from Dublin, took the boat over to England, where he struck a job as an assistant at a law firm. His work was exemplary of everything his employer (Peter McGuinness of Daniels, Morgan, Von Heineken, McGuinness, and Associates) held in high esteem, and soon he was enrolled in law school, backed by McGuinness? funding, and as soon as he graduated became one of the associates. His career expanded from there taking him all over the world, from London, to Miami, New Orleans, Belfast and Berlin. Soon he was an internationally known figure (in lawyer circles at any rate). More important than the recognition though was the money, it flowed in at breakneck rate and William was soon a millionaire living in a mansion outside Beverly Hills. He couldn?t stop there. Once on a roll he obsessed about his work till he cared for nothing else. His motto became ?more?. More cases, more deals with other firms, more stocks, more investments, more money. More. He was extraordinarily successful? as a lawyer. Not so much as a person. There was something he had left behind, something he had caught a brief glimpse of at a pub in Dublin many years ago and hadn?t crossed his mind since then. Love.
Upon returning to Dublin in his middle ages, Billy is reminded of that night so long ago and forced to step back and re-examine his life and his goals.
As the monologue begins, William is forty-three years old. He is of average height, maybe a bit on the short side. He?s a bit stocky from his years of hard though non-athletic work. His fast, stress-ridden lifestyle has led his hair to grow grey and dissipate. His clothing is usually a formal suit of some sort, often a bit wrinkled. Sometimes he even remembers to shave. He is rarely seen without some sort of cell phone, briefcase, or laptop computer.
Most of the time when he moves he is in a hurry to get somewhere, because in his profession time is money and money is the paramount force in his life, he mostly speaks quickly, and in fact does everything quickly (though that is not to say carelessly). It is important to emphasize however that the monologue is as far from ?most of the time? as should be possible! For once he slows the frantic pace of his life and ruminates on what he has lost in the past, his mood becomes pensive, almost dreamy. However his lifestyle drove him to become fidgety, and even in a pensive state he seems ill at ease and cannot help but fidget despite his subtle efforts to the contrary. Any trace in his voice of his Irish beginnings have for the most part disappeared now.
William was (for his sake, let us hope the use of the past tense is appropriate) a man whose life saw little or no place for emotions of a gentle tender kind, though he was prone to dramatic outbursts when his built up frustrations and stresses reach critical mass. He thinks he is in control, and is often quite arrogant; really he is insecure in his position, leading is what leads him to strive always to better himself and do more.
William is fiercely intelligent, and not as na?ve as he was as a child. His analytical powers, quick wits and keen memory helped him win many cases. In his hectic schedule he affords no time to such things as religion and God, seeing value only in things with practical applications, hopefully that lead to increased income. He is entirely selfish but doesn?t realize that he shouldn?t be. He cares very little for other people, except what practical support they can give to him. He has no moral connections to the laws he follows, he merely does so because it is more profitable for him to do so. He would likely maim, kill, lie, cheat, and steal to get more money but he realizes it would land him in deep inconvenience were he to do such a thing.
Monologue:
It was here in Dublin I met you for the first time. And for the last time. It seems like another lifetime. Seems like it happened to another person. But ? I can remember it down to the smallest detail. Your lips were cherry red, your legs were crossed, your arms wide open. Your hair was coloured gold, and like a field of corn, it was blown by the wind. It was blown by the wind. I remember you said it wasn?t cold, so you?d left your coat at home that night. you wore canvas shoes? white canvas shoes. Around your neck you wore a silver necklace. It was given to me by my father you said, ?it was given to me?. I wasn?t entirely honest, as I remember. I said I was an artist. I wasn?t lying, I just really painted billboards. I was telling jokes; nobody else thought they were funny. Except you. You left. Took the back way home, past the lights on Summerhill, turned left onto the North strand, and on, out towards the sea. I followed you, and it seems to me at some point I caught up to you and we talked and then...
After that? it?s a blur. But I never saw you again, and I never even knew your name. I couldn?t say why I remember you now. Or why I?m talking to you as if you?re here. [looking around]. God, this stress must be really getting to me. And I?m forgetting about that meeting.
Here I am in a room in the Royal Hotel. Sea facing views. Five hundred pounds a night. A suitcase full of things I don?t need. Obsessing over being on time for some stupid meeting. I mean? Maybe it?s time I just sort of shut up. and maybe took a walk, down by the water? like I did with you so long ago. Enjoy the sounds and the smells rather than just rushing past it. Like I?ve rushed past everything in the last twenty years. Meeting? What meeting?
Here is the character analysis (notice the clever u2 references I worked in
Character Analysis:
Billy Fallon was born in the Irish town of Enniscorthy. His parents were not rich. Billy?s father was a miner who received a very meagre amount of work; his mother worked at a dress shop. They struggled to pay the rent, the electricity bill, and feed themselves. Billy hated his childhood and resented his parents for the fact that they were so poor. When he was 14 he packed his skimpy possessions and left the house with not so much as a word of farewell to his parents. He headed towards Dublin, hoping to find a job, a living, a future in the ?big city?. Contrary to his optimistic aspirations, Dublin was no proverbial walk in the park. It caused him almost as much grief as had his home in Enniscorthy, but he resented it less because he was responsible for himself; no parents breathing down his neck.
In Dublin he went from painting billboards to shelving groceries to pumping gas, never finding a job that was lucrative at all. He drifted away from Dublin, took the boat over to England, where he struck a job as an assistant at a law firm. His work was exemplary of everything his employer (Peter McGuinness of Daniels, Morgan, Von Heineken, McGuinness, and Associates) held in high esteem, and soon he was enrolled in law school, backed by McGuinness? funding, and as soon as he graduated became one of the associates. His career expanded from there taking him all over the world, from London, to Miami, New Orleans, Belfast and Berlin. Soon he was an internationally known figure (in lawyer circles at any rate). More important than the recognition though was the money, it flowed in at breakneck rate and William was soon a millionaire living in a mansion outside Beverly Hills. He couldn?t stop there. Once on a roll he obsessed about his work till he cared for nothing else. His motto became ?more?. More cases, more deals with other firms, more stocks, more investments, more money. More. He was extraordinarily successful? as a lawyer. Not so much as a person. There was something he had left behind, something he had caught a brief glimpse of at a pub in Dublin many years ago and hadn?t crossed his mind since then. Love.
Upon returning to Dublin in his middle ages, Billy is reminded of that night so long ago and forced to step back and re-examine his life and his goals.
As the monologue begins, William is forty-three years old. He is of average height, maybe a bit on the short side. He?s a bit stocky from his years of hard though non-athletic work. His fast, stress-ridden lifestyle has led his hair to grow grey and dissipate. His clothing is usually a formal suit of some sort, often a bit wrinkled. Sometimes he even remembers to shave. He is rarely seen without some sort of cell phone, briefcase, or laptop computer.
Most of the time when he moves he is in a hurry to get somewhere, because in his profession time is money and money is the paramount force in his life, he mostly speaks quickly, and in fact does everything quickly (though that is not to say carelessly). It is important to emphasize however that the monologue is as far from ?most of the time? as should be possible! For once he slows the frantic pace of his life and ruminates on what he has lost in the past, his mood becomes pensive, almost dreamy. However his lifestyle drove him to become fidgety, and even in a pensive state he seems ill at ease and cannot help but fidget despite his subtle efforts to the contrary. Any trace in his voice of his Irish beginnings have for the most part disappeared now.
William was (for his sake, let us hope the use of the past tense is appropriate) a man whose life saw little or no place for emotions of a gentle tender kind, though he was prone to dramatic outbursts when his built up frustrations and stresses reach critical mass. He thinks he is in control, and is often quite arrogant; really he is insecure in his position, leading is what leads him to strive always to better himself and do more.
William is fiercely intelligent, and not as na?ve as he was as a child. His analytical powers, quick wits and keen memory helped him win many cases. In his hectic schedule he affords no time to such things as religion and God, seeing value only in things with practical applications, hopefully that lead to increased income. He is entirely selfish but doesn?t realize that he shouldn?t be. He cares very little for other people, except what practical support they can give to him. He has no moral connections to the laws he follows, he merely does so because it is more profitable for him to do so. He would likely maim, kill, lie, cheat, and steal to get more money but he realizes it would land him in deep inconvenience were he to do such a thing.
Monologue:
It was here in Dublin I met you for the first time. And for the last time. It seems like another lifetime. Seems like it happened to another person. But ? I can remember it down to the smallest detail. Your lips were cherry red, your legs were crossed, your arms wide open. Your hair was coloured gold, and like a field of corn, it was blown by the wind. It was blown by the wind. I remember you said it wasn?t cold, so you?d left your coat at home that night. you wore canvas shoes? white canvas shoes. Around your neck you wore a silver necklace. It was given to me by my father you said, ?it was given to me?. I wasn?t entirely honest, as I remember. I said I was an artist. I wasn?t lying, I just really painted billboards. I was telling jokes; nobody else thought they were funny. Except you. You left. Took the back way home, past the lights on Summerhill, turned left onto the North strand, and on, out towards the sea. I followed you, and it seems to me at some point I caught up to you and we talked and then...
After that? it?s a blur. But I never saw you again, and I never even knew your name. I couldn?t say why I remember you now. Or why I?m talking to you as if you?re here. [looking around]. God, this stress must be really getting to me. And I?m forgetting about that meeting.
Here I am in a room in the Royal Hotel. Sea facing views. Five hundred pounds a night. A suitcase full of things I don?t need. Obsessing over being on time for some stupid meeting. I mean? Maybe it?s time I just sort of shut up. and maybe took a walk, down by the water? like I did with you so long ago. Enjoy the sounds and the smells rather than just rushing past it. Like I?ve rushed past everything in the last twenty years. Meeting? What meeting?
