John Travolta Monologues

Rough business, this movie business. I'm gonna have to go back to loan-sharking just to take a rest.

Now I've been shot at three times before. Twice on purpose and once by accident. And I'm still here. And I'm gonna be here for as long as I want to be.

Look at me. What I'm thinking is, 'You're mine. I fuckin' own you.' But what I'm not doing is feeling anything about it one way or the other. You understand? You're not a person to me, you're a name in my collection book, a guy owes me money, that's all.

That was "Rio Bravo." Robert Mitchum played the drunk in "El Dorado." Dean Martin played the drunk in "Rio Bravo." Basically, it was the same part. Now John Wayne, he did the same in both. He played John Wayne.

Harry, look at me. You're trying to tell me you fucked up without sounding stupid, and that's hard to do.

Well, that's the difference between you and me, Harry. I say what I mean. I want Martin Weir? I go out and get Martin Weir. I don't fuck around with this bullshit with the trainer's shrink.

You know, Welles didn't even want to do this movie. But he had some studio contract he couldn't get out of. Sometimes you do your best work when you got a gun to your head.

Well, I could see myself in the parts that Robert De Niro plays. Or maybe even, an Al Pacino movie, you know, playing a real hard-on. But I couldn't see myself in those movies where three grown-up guys get left with a baby, and so they act like three grown-up assholes, acting all cute...

Bear, look at me. You tell your boss I don't ever want to see him again. And that means he's got to be nowhere near me, Karen, or Harry. You understand?

Okay, get up. What are you hanging around that guy for, anyway? I mean, you were in the movies, right? You were a stuntman. What's he ever done that he can talk about? You okay?

Leo, sit down. I don't know how you got this far, you're so fucking dumb. But you're through now, and let me explain why. Ray Bones is the man that you're dealing with now, and when Bones finds out what you did, he's gonna take everything, including the sporty little hat you got on your head. And then most likely he'll shoot you, so you won't tell on him. Now, I'm not gonna do that. I'm not gonna hurt you. Now you got three hundred and ten thousand in the bag here. I'm gonna take the three hundred thousand that you scammed from the airline, and then the ten that's left over, I'm gonna borrow from you and pay back at another time.

At eighteen percent. Now don't ask another fucking question, I'm leaving.

Yeah, but I was never into it and especially that bullshit about having respect. Forget about it, it's bad enough treating these guys like their your heroes, you know, smiling those stupid comments, they think are so funny.

Well do you see a black leather jacket, fingertip length like the one Pacino wore in "Serpico"? 'Cause if you don't you owe me three hundred and seventy nine dollars.

You can't make a Martin Weir into a Mel Gibson. Where do you want to go? You want to go to Dan Tana's?

Look, I didn't come down to sunny Florida to freeze my ass. You follow me? You get the coat back or you give me the three seventy-nine dollars my ex-wife paid for it at Alexander's.

It's about a dry cleaner who owes a shylock fifteen thousand dollars and his three weeks over on the vig, the dry cleaner, let's call him "Leo" his scared and doesn't know any better so he leaves town and gets on a plane but the plane sits there and doesn't move so they announce over the PA system that there's some kind of mechanical problem and be delayed for an hour but they tell all the passengers to remain in their seats in case they can get it fixed sooner so the guy's nervous and in no shape to sit there and sweat it out so he gets off the plane and goes into the cocktail lounge and starts drinking one drink after another and he's still in the lounge when the plane crashes during takeoff, he couldn't believe his luck because if he stayed on the plane he'd be dead , now that everyone thinks his dead he wouldn't have to pay back the fifteen thousand dollars or what he owes on the vig, since Leo's name was on the passenger's list they bring his wife out to the airport where they're going through personal effects whatever wasn't burned up they tell the wife to look for only things she would know about, she returns home and the people from the airline come out to see her and they tell her how sorry they are and how their plane exploded they offer a settlement: an amount he would've earned if he operated the dry cleaners for the rest of his life

I don't know how you got this far, your so fucking dumb but your through and I'm going to explain why and I hope you're not so dumb you won't understand, Ray Bones is the man your dealing with now when Bones finds out what you did his going to take everything including the sporty little hat you got on your head and most likely he'll shoot you so you won't tell on him but I'm not going to do that I'm not going to hurt you now you got three hundred and ten thousand in the bag I'm going to take the three hundred grand you scammed from the airlines and the ten that's left over I'm going to borrow from you and pay back at another time

You know what the problem with Hollywood is? They make shit. Unbelievable, unremarkable shit. Now I'm not some grungy wannabe filmmaker that's searching for existentialism through a haze of bong smoke or something. No, it's easy to pick apart bad acting, short-sighted directing, and a purely moronic stringing together of words that many of the studios term as "prose". No, I'm talking about the lack of realism. Realism; not a pervasive element in today's modern American cinematic vision. Take Dog Day Afternoon, for example. Arguably Pacino's best work, short of Scarface and Godfather Part 1, of course. Masterpiece of directing, easily Lumet's best. The cinematography, the acting, the screenplay, all top-notch. But… they didn't push the envelope. Now what if in Dog Day, Sonny wanted to get away with it, REALLY wanted to get away with it? What if - now here's the tricky part - what if he started killing hostages right away? No mercy, no quarter. "Meet our demands or the pretty blonde in the bellbottoms gets it the back of the head." Bam, splat! What, still no bus? Come on! How many innocent victims splattered across a window would it take to have the city reverse its policy on hostage situations? And this is 1976; there's no CNN, there's no CNBC, there's no internet! Now fast forward to today, present time, same situation. How quickly would the modern media make a frenzy over this? In a matter of hours, it'd be biggest story from Boston to Budapest! Ten hostages die, twenty, thirty; bam bam, right after another, all caught in high-def, computer-enhanced, color corrected. You can practically taste the brain matter. All for what? A bus, a plane? A couple of million dollars that's federally insured? I don't think so. Just a thought. I mean, it's not within the realm of conventional cinema… but what if?

Have you ever heard of Harry Houdini? Well he wasn't like today's magicians who are only interested in television ratings. He was an artist. He could make an elephant disappear in the middle of a theater filled with people, and do you know how he did that? Misdirection.

Misdirection. What the eyes see and the ears hear, the mind believes.

Anyone who impinges on America's freedom. Terrorist states, Stanley. Someone must bring their war to them. They bomb a church, we bomb ten. They hijack a plane, we take out an airport. They execute American tourists, we tactically nuke an entire city. Our job is to make terrorism so horrific that it becomes unthinkable to attack Americans.

Don't confuse kindness with weakness.

You're not looking at the big picture Stan. Here's a scenario. You have the power to cure all the world's diseases but the price for this is that you must kill a single innocent child, could you kill that child Stanley?

Now you're gettin' it, how about a hundred - how about a THOUSAND? Not to save the world but to preserve our way of life.

No, you're wrong Stanley. Thousands die every day for no reason at all, where's your bleeding heart for them? You give your twenty dollars to Greenpeace every year thinking you're changing the world? What countries will harbor terrorists when they realize the consequences of what I'll do? Did you know that I can buy nuclear warheads in Minsk for forty million each? Hell, I'd buy half a dozen and even get a discount!

I have been told that the best crackers in the world can do this under 60 minutes but unfortunately I need someone who can do this under 60 seconds.

Oh, come on, Stan. Not everything ends the way you think it should. Besides, audiences love happy endings.

Jules, did you ever hear the philosophy that once a man admits that he's wrong that he is immediately forgiven for all wrongdoings? Have you ever heard that?

I got a threshold, Jules. I got a threshold for the abuse that I will take. Now, right now, I'm a fuckin' race car, right, and you got me the red. And I'm just sayin', I'm just sayin' that it's fuckin' dangerous to have a race car in the fuckin' red. That's all. I could blow.

I ain't saying it's right. But you're saying a foot massage don't mean nothing, and I'm saying it does. Now look, I've given a million ladies a million foot massages, and they all meant something. We act like they don't, but they do, and that's what's so fucking cool about them. There's a sensuous thing going on where you don't talk about it, but you know it, she knows it, fucking Marsellus knew it, and Antwone should have fucking better known better. I mean, that's his fucking wife, man. He can't be expected to have a sense of humor about that shit. You know what I'm saying?

Why the fuck didn't you tell us somebody was in the bathroom? Slipped your mind? Did you forget that somebody was in there with a goddamn hand cannon?

That's the Marilyn Monroe section that's Mamie Van Doren... I don't see Jayne Mansfield, she must have the night off or something.

Yeah, it's legal, but it ain't a hundred percent legal. I mean, you can't just walk into a restaurant, roll a joint and start puffing away. You're only supposed to smoke in your home or certain designated places.

Yeah. It breaks down like this: it's legal to buy it, it's legal to own it, and, if you're the proprietor of a hash bar, it's legal to sell it. It's still illegal to carry it around, but that doesn't really matter 'cause… get a load of this: if you get stopped by the cops in Amsterdam, it's illegal for them to search you. I mean, that's a right the cops in Amsterdam don't have.

Hmm, hmm. Well, that is one way to say it. Another way to say it would be that he was thrown out. Another way would be that he was thrown out by Marcellus. And yet even another way to say it was that he was thrown out of the window by Marcellus because of you.

I was thinking the other day, I remember I once took a date out for surf and turf, not knowing she was a vegetarian, so she ate bread and broke her tooth on a rice seed, we drove around all night, looking for an all night dentist, and he was so drunk he fixed the wrong tooth, when I finally brought her home, even though it must've hurt like hell, you kissed me

The last time I saw you was in this room, we had a fight when I said I had to go away again I spent the night in Mike's old bed, the assignment was to enter a federal prison as Castor Troy, just fucking insane, a special ops surgeon gave me Caster's face and somehow Castor came out of his coma and killed everybody who knew about the mission not before transforming into me,

I know you don't believe a word I'm saying, well here's proof doctor your husband, me, my Sean's blood type O-negative Castor's AB.