3 Best Peter O'Toole Monologues

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The Ruling Class (Jack Gurney)

The Ruling Class (Jack Gurney)

Category: Movie Role: Jack Gurney From: The Ruling Class

Deformed, unfinished, sent before my time into this breeding world. I’m cured of fantasy obsessions, paranoid delusions. I master words. ‘I’ – straighten up there. ‘AM’ – close up with ‘I’ – you horrible little word. ‘GOD.’ I AM GOD. Not the god of love, but God Almighty. I massacred the Amalekites and the Seven Nations of Canaan. I hacked Agag to pieces and blasted the barren fig tree, for the day of vengeance is in my heart! You lunar jackass, she betrayed you. Guilty, guilty, guilty. The punishment is death. I’ve finally been processed. They made me adjust to modern times. This is 1888, isn’t it? I’m Jack, Cunning Jack, Quiet Jack. Jack whose sword never sleeps. Hats off, I’m Jack. Not the good shepherd, not the prince of peace. I’m red Jack, spring-heeled Jack, Jack from Hell. Trade name: Jack the Ripper! Mary, Annie, Elizabeth, Catherine, Alice, Marie Kelly. ‘Six little whores, glad to be alive. One sidles up to Jack, and then there are five.’

Ratatouille (Anton Ego)

Ratatouille (Anton Ego)

Category: Movie Role: Anton Ego From: Ratatouille

In many ways, the work of a critic is easy. We risk very little yet enjoy a position over those who offer up their work and their selves to our judgment. We thrive on negative criticism, which is fun to write and to read. But the bitter truth we critics must face, is that in the grand scheme of things, the average piece of junk is probably more meaningful than our criticism designating it so. But there are times when a critic truly risks something, and that is in the discovery and defense of the new. The world is often unkind to new talent, new creations, the new needs friends. Last night, I experienced something new, an extraordinary meal from a singularly unexpected source. To say that both the meal and its maker have challenged my preconceptions about fine cooking is a gross understatement. They have rocked me to my core. In the past, I have made no secret of my disdain for Chef Gusteau’s famous motto: Anyone can cook. But I realize, only now do I truly understand what he meant. Not everyone can become a great artist, but a great artist can come from anywhere. It is difficult to imagine more humble origins than those of the genius now cooking at Gusteau’s, who is, in this critic’s opinion, nothing less than the finest chef in France. I will be returning to Gusteau’s soon, hungry for more.