I couldn't cry at his funeral. Suddenly we were like right there and everybody's looking...View Full Monologue Text
I couldn't cry at his funeral. Suddenly we were like right there and everybody's looking at me and my little brother and my mom and people who barely knew him, people he had acted with- you know- years ago, all crying, all you know grabbing my shoulder in the receiving line and saying, "I'm so sorry," their voices choking up and I'm thinking... you're all phonies!... Actors! Look at you! How long did you have to stare into the lights before you could make that moment work? All of those glycerin tears. They didn't know my dad. Oh my God, Joe, it was so bad at the end. It was so bad. I couldn't stand to be near him, it was so... awful. He wasn't himself. He wasn't him. Do you know what I mean? And the whole time after he died, nothing. Suddenly there was this wave of self-consciousness, I don't know... Everybody's looking at me, everybody's looking at Irmengard and I'm thinking, I can't. I can't do it. It's not there. I loved my dad, Joe. I loved him. I loved him. And now I sit exactly where he did that role that he loved, exactly where he said he was born as an actor, right where he said, "to sleep? perchance to dream?" and I can't make Ophelia work. I reach down and there's only doubt. I can't feel anything. I'm doing what he would call shit work. You know?
V talks about her father's death after a particularly emotional rehearsal.
Age Range: Teen, 20s - Early
Dialects: Standard American
PlayName: Dream of Passion, A
Rating: Contains adult content
Copyright Status: Copyrighted
AuthorName: Rick Robinson