Ben Affleck Monologues

Danny, you can't die. You can't die. You know why? 'Cause you're gonna be a father. You're gonna be a daddy. I wasn't supposed to tell you. You're gonna be a father.

Yes, sir. It's the kind of mission where you get medals, but they send 'em to your relatives.

Not anxious to die sir, just anxious to matter.

I should've died over there. When I was in that water, I made a deal with God. I told Him I was sorry, I told Him I knew I'd been a fool for leaving you and trying to go over there and be a hero, and I promised I'd never ask for anything again, if I could just see you one more time... And you know what? It was worth it. You kept me alive Evelyn; you brought me home. So I'm gonna stand by my end of the deal. I'm gonna walk away and I won't ask you for anything... but I just want to know why... Just tell me that will you please? Just tell me why.

That's what I want to come home to, that's what I want to have to think about and dream about. I wanna know that the best part of my life is still ahead of me.

Oh, I… It's not a problem with my eyes. I mean, I can see. I mean I can hit a runnin' rabbit with a $3.00 pistol. I got a problem with letters, that's all.

No, I had schooling. I mean, the teachers just never knew what to make of it, I… It's just letters. I mix 'em up sometimes. That's all. I mean, I just get 'em backword sometimes. Look here. My math and spatial reasoning and my verbal scores are all excellent.

Ma'am, I'm never gonna be an English teacher. But I know why I'm here: to be a pilot. And you don't dogfight with manuals. You don't fly with gauges. I mean, it's all about feeling and speed, and lettin' that plane become like a part of your body. And that manual says that a guy who's a slow reader can't be a good pilot. That file says I'm the best pilot in this room. Ma'am, please, don't take my wings.

It's not easy making friends here. Two days ago I had a beer with a couple of the RAF pilots. Yesterday both of them got killed.

I almost did die, you little son-of-a-bitch. And her face was the last thing that went through my mind.

Ma'am, I'm never gonna be an English teacher, but I know why I'm here, to be a pilot, and you don't dogfight with manuals, you don't fly with gauges, I mean it's all about feeling and speed and lettin' that plane become like it's apart of your body, and that manual says that a guy who's a slow reader can't be a good pilot... that file says I'm the *best* pilot in this room... Ma'am, please... Don't take my wings

Returning from the dead wasn't all that I expected… but that's life.

I don't wanna be a gangster. Stopped kissing rings a long time ago.

Maybe it's true. We all find ourselves in lives we didn't expect. But what I learned was powerful men don't have to be cruel. I got one guaranteed life, I was gonna live it. I had a plan. Do you think that we got where we are by lettin' some inbreds muscle us?

So you're threatening me with people that are more powerful than you?

You don't think I'm strong enough?

Powerful men don't have to be cruel.

More booze has been drunk in the last ten years than ever before. Because people don't wanna be told that they can't do it.

On Saturdays I take my son to the shows.

Some little German guy is making trouble overseas. I don't believe they will fight another war though. No percentage in it… My son loved the show. It was about an honest sheriff in a dirty town. All he could talk about was getting his own badge when he grew up.

That's my brother. That was my brother's name. That's your uncle.

In the afternoon we fish for red-fins. One day my son asked me "Where is heaven in the sky?"I told him what Loretta told to me. "This is heaven, right here. We are in it now."

In 1917, I signed up to fight the Huns in France. Good men died all around me, and I saw no reason for it. The rules we lived by were lies. And they didn't apply to those who made them. I swore If I made it home, I would never follow orders again. I left a soldier, I came home an outlaw.

I realized it's not enough to break the rules. You have to be strong enough to make your own.

General, the President is basing his decisions on some really bad information right now. And if you shut me out, your family, and my family, and twenty-five million other families will be dead in thirty minutes.

I'm just saying Zorkin's putting on weight. Really, I don't know why you guys have to reduce everything to sex. It's just disgusting.

Sir, I know you. I know you had nothing to do with the Baltimore bomb, and you sure as hell know you didn't! But you're still about to launch a nuclear strike against us! This no longer has anything to do with Baltimore! Now it's about fear! Our fear of your missiles, your fear of our subs, fear of being weak, fear of making a mistake... the same fear of the other guy that had us build these goddamn bombs in the first place!

The bomb is in play! Dylan's called the AFRAT team! They're meeting me at the docks in twenty minutes! We're going to see if we can find it!

Mr. President, conventional wisdom would suggest that Nemerov is playing the traditional Russian role: be aggressive, flex your muscles, dare the world to stop you. But Nemerov isn't conventional.

What if Nemerov didn't order the attack? What if it was a, uh-uh… rogue general or a splinter military unit frustrated they couldn't get the rest of the rebels out of the city?

I know, that's why he's not gonna move 'em. It's like a chess game. He's just thinking three moves ahead. He knows he has so many more tanks than we do. And the NATO playbook says the only we could stop 'em is using tactical nuclear weapons.

Sir, those three missing scientists? Milinov's expertise is detonators. Spassky's expertise is the package; the nuclear core itself. And Orlov is a mathematician whose expertise is the geometry of high explosives inside a fission bomb.

Oh, I don't think so. I need to know everything you know about the bomb.

Captain. Captain! I don't have time for this. I need to know where this bomb came from. I will settle for where it didn't come from, but I need to know now, otherwise there may not be a tomorrow.

We don't have an hour! Fowler's gonna want to show how tough he is! He's gonna hit back now! Listen to me. We have to prove that it wasn't the Russians before he's convinced it is.

No, we… there's no time! There must be a command post on site. The-the radiation assessment team. Where are they?

We got an office, we got business cards, we got a poster. If I'm the Revolutionary Guard, that's nothing we couldn't have made at home. Six people's lives depend on this. It's not enough. If we're gonna fool these people, it has to be big. And it has to have something that says it's authentic.

Sir, exfils are like abortions. You don't wanna need one. But when you do, you don't do it yourself.

Fade in on a starship landing. An exotic, Middle Eastern vibe. Women gather, offering ecstatic libations to the sky gods. Argo. A science-fantasy adventure.

This is what I do. I get people out. And I've never left anyone behind.

My name is Tony Mendez. I'm from New York. My father worked construction. My mother teaches elementary school. I have a wife and a ten-year-old son. You play along with me today and I promise you, I will get you out tomorrow.

And we think everybody knows Hollywood people. And everybody knows they'd shoot in Stalingrad with Pol Pot directing if it would sell tickets.

Sir, if these people can read or add, pretty soon they're gonna figure out they're six short of a full deck. It's winter. You can't afford to wait around till spring so it's nice enough to take a bike ride. The only way out of that city is the airport. We build new cover identities for them, you send in a Moses, he takes them out on a commercial flight.

Okay, you know those science fiction movies? "Star Trek", "Star Wars". They need an exotic location to shoot. Moonscape, Mars, desert, you know. Now, imagine this: they're a Canadian film crew on a location scout for a science fiction movie. We put it out there - the Canadian producers put out there - that we're looking at Egypt, Istanbul. Then we go to the consulate and say "Hey, we wanna look at Iran, too." I fly into Tehran, we all fly out together as a film crew. Done.

John Chambers. He's a Hollywood prosthetics guy. He's got an Oscar, he did "Planet of the Apes", and he's done a bunch of contract work for us in the past. I go see him, he sets us up. One, two days, make it look real.

"The Minister of Culture and Guidance has approved your location scout. He will send his representative to meet you and your crew at the Khayyam entrance to the Grand Bazaar tomorrow at 3 p.m."

I don't have a choice. We say no, they show up at the residence and drag everyone out at gunpoint. How well do you think their covers are gonna hold up while they're getting their fingernails pulled out?

First time anyone's gonna ask you a question is at the first checkpoint. The first checkpoint is just to get a look at your passports. Passports came straight from Ottawa last week. They're clean. The second checkpoint... is immigration. You're each gonna hand them one of these. It says that you landed in the country two days ago. They'll look for the matching white one, which doesn't exist. You'll say you don't know what happened. And if you believe they lost the white slip, they'll believe it, too. The third checkpoint is the trap. It's manned by the Revolutionary Guard. Most of them were educated in the U.S. and Europe. And all of whom are looking for Americans.

Driver's name is Arthur Shea. Former Metro Police officer, fifty-seven years old. Soon as his partner leaves with the coal bag, Artie cracks a Herald, and he don't look up 'til the guy gets back. Marty Maguire. Cummins Armored courier. Five-ten, two-twenty, fifty-two years old. Picks up every Wednesday and Friday at exactly 8:12, makes a hundred and ten dollars a day, carries a Sig nine. And he's about to get robbed.

We're fucked if we see a helicopter, we're fucked if we see SWAT. We see a cruiser, stop, take out the engine blocks, keep movin'. No one needs to get hurt.

Who the fuck do you think you are? You're gonna let me or not let me do shit. Here's a little fucking cheat sheet for you. Its never gonna be me and you and your sister and Shyne playing house up there. You got it? Get that in your fucking head! I'm tired of your fucking one way bullshit. You wanna see me again? You can come visit me down in Florida.

Don't get up… How you doing Fergie? Listen, uh, I wanted to stop by and tell you myself. Whatever this thing is you got going on, uh, I think my guys can handle it without me.

Alright. Ok. Let me ask you something: Who the fuck you think you are? The only guy in Charlestown with a gun? You guys run numbers and pump dope. You're an old guy with a fucked up face so all those glory years are behind you. I ain't fucking working for you. Got it? If you got a problem with that, I live at 551 Bunker Hill st. Stop by any time. You know where to find me.

I need your help. I can't tell you what it is, you can never ask me about it later, and we're gonna hurt some people.

No matter how much you change, you still have to pay the price for the things you've done. So I got a long road. But I know I'll see you again - this side or the other.

Not the way I planned it, but for the first time in my life, I'm leaving this city. Maybe if I go, I can stop looking.

You tell the FBI. If the guy's got a record, and I'm sure he does, they'll have his tattoos on file. They'll ring him up the next day. Robbery, weapons, he'll get thirty years. Of course he'll worry someone's gonna come looking for the witness. FBI will probabaly want to put you in a WitSec, you know, witness security. You know, he'll probably put you somewhere, like you know in uh… Cleveland or Arizona. You know, somewhere safe. Or… you could wait. You have a card, there's nothin' says you gotta play it right away. You're the one who's vulnerable in this situation right now. The FBI are just people, like anyone else who want to find the bad guy so that they can go home and do their supper. You have to look out for yourself, Claire.

Not really. Just watch a lot of TV. I watch a lot of CSI. So I'm a really big expert on all this. I know. And Miami CSI and New York CSI. All the… all of them I have watched.

Hey, next time you guys wanna take pictures of me, just call ahead. You know, we can do better than a barbecue. A calender shoot… you know, maybe topless, lubed up. Whatever you guys are into. The FBI car antenna's are half inch matte black about three quarters way down the rear windshield. Statie a pigtail, BPD half and half. Every pewee in town knows what an FBI rear antenna looks like. So in the future you guys need try to be slick, be slicker than a six year old. I gotta get back to work. Can I go?

Good luck with that print.

Alright. I'm in. But if anything happens to her, if I think anything might happen to her… I'm gonna come back here, and I'm gonna kill both of you in your own shop.

In the cash room. Arnold Washton! You live at 311 Hazer Street in Quincy, with a wife named Linda and three small dogs. Do not make a distress call. Also in the cash room, Morton Previt. You live at 27 Counting Lane, Randolph. Wife also Linda. Morton, the Lindas want you to open this door. We have men outside your homes.

Violence doesn't discriminate. It hits all of us… the rich, the poor, the healthy, the sick. It comes as cold and bracing as a winter breeze off the Hudson. Until it sinks into your bones… leaving you with a chill you can't shake. They say there's not rest for the wicked. But what about the good? The battle of Good vs. Evil is never-ending… because evil always survives… with the help of evil men. As for Daredevil, well… soon the world will know the truth. That this is a city born of heroes, that one man CAN make a difference.

What is your problem with our clients? We have good, honorable clients. Decent people. What's your idea of better? Define "better". Huh? What would be a "better" client?

High above the city streets, I trained my body and my senses. An acute sense of touch gave me both strength and balance, until the city itself became my playground.

I had set out to save the city. But with Elektra's help, I saved myself instead. Now I have faith that anything is possible. And some days, faith is all you need.

When it rains, it's like there's a rooftop on the world. Each raindrop makes a sound the first time it falls on a surface. Just then, it's like I… it's like I can see again. And I… I just wanna… I just wanna see you.

Mr. Quesada, for your sake, I hope justice is found here today… before justice finds you.

I had lost my sight, but I got something back in return. My remaining four senses functioned with superhuman sharpness. But most amazing of all, my sense of sound gave off a kind of radar sense!

I love you. And not, not in a friendly way, although I think we're great friends. And not in a misplaced affection, puppy-dog way, although I'm sure that's what you'll call it. I love you. Very, very simple, very truly. You are the-the epitome of everything I have ever looked for in another human being. And I know that you think of me as just a friend, and crossing that line is-is-is the furthest thing from an option you would ever consider. But I had to say it. I just, I can't take this anymore. I can't stand next to you without wanting to hold you. I can't-I can't look into your eyes without feeling that-that longing you only read about in trashy romance novels. I can't talk to you without wanting to express my love for everything you are. And I know this will probably queer our friendship - no pun intended - but I had to say it, 'cause I've never felt this way before, and I-I don't care. I like who I am because of it. And if bringing this to light means we can't hang out anymore, then that hurts me. But God, I just, I couldn't allow another day to go by without just getting it out there, regardless of the outcome, which by the look on your face is to be the inevitable shoot-down. And, you know, I'll accept that. But I know, I know that some part of you is hesitating for a moment, and if there's a moment of hesitation, then that means you feel something too. And all I ask, please, is that you just - you just not dismiss that, and try to dwell in it for just ten seconds. Alyssa, there isn't another soul on this fucking planet who has ever made me half the person I am when I'm with you, and I would risk this friendship for the chance to take it to the next plateau. Because it is there between you and me. You can't deny that. Even if, you know, even if we never talk again after tonight, please know that I am forever changed because of who you are and what you've meant to me, which - while I do appreciate it - I'd never need a painting of birds bought at a diner to remind me of.

For years in this industry, whenever an African American character, hero or villain, was introduced - usually by white artists and writers - they got slapped with racist names that singled them out as Negroes. Now, my book, "White-Hatin' Coon," don't have none of that bullshit. The hero's name is Maleekwa, and he's a descendant from the black tribe that established the first society on the planet, while all you European motherfuckers were still hiding in caves and shit, all terrified of the sun. He's a strong role model that a young black reader can look up to. 'Cause I'm here to tell you, the chickens is coming home to roost, y'all. The black man's no longer gonna play the minstrel in the medium of comics and sci-fi fantasy. We keepin' it real, and we gonna get respect by any means necessary.