Nothing has swept the Internet quite like Walton Goggins‘s wide-eyed, slack-jawed reaction to Sam Rockwell’s stunning monologue in The White Lotus Season 3 Episode 5. It was a perfect storm: most fans of Goggins as an actor haven’t seen him utterly speechless and in a sort of awe in character before; Rockwell’s appearance was a surprise, and it turns out he’s in the rest of the season, so he can’t compete for a guest actor Emmy off that scene alone — he’ll be against Goggins in Supporting Actor. The content of the monologue, of course, is shocking (in a good way): Frank (Rockwell) discloses his path to sobriety, which includes a journey through his unique relationship with gender and sexuality. Rick (Goggins) is less horrified, with his wide eyes, and more just trying to process a whole lot of information all at once.
Videos by ComicBook.com
The White Lotus scene feels unique; a lot of monologues in TV have a tendency to be loud, declamatory speeches, either in an attempt to rally the troops (in a lot of science fiction and fantasy) or to make a wider point as elaborately as possible (most Aaron Sorkin shows — though we love them). Monologues aren’t used a whole lot for a quiet catharsis; they’re usually delivered at the peak of the mountain, not at the bottom of one. Goggins is also an ideal scene partner for this monologue; he is silent, but fully engaged. His face tells us everything we need to know; he doesn’t have to say anything.
Here are 5 other TV monologue scenes that break the mold: not trying to will out a victory or crush other characters into submission, no. These are monologues that come from the soul.
Star Trek: Deep Space Nine: Captain’s (Deleted) Log
Star Trek is known for its speeches, because usually, they’re what saves the day. Jean-Luc Picard would give some diplomatic missive, and Kirk would yell at some species to find their inner humanity somewhere, and by the time the credits rolled, things were peachy.
Deep Space Nine took that idea and broke it open with their season six episode, “In the Pale Moonlight.” It’s a masterclass for Avery Brooks as Sisko, but he’s always good: the key to the episode is the fact that everything that happens, most of it bad, has already happened. The episode is framed around Sisko confessing what are, arguably, war crimes, to his Captain’s Log. The audience is his only scene partner in the traditional sense, but Brooks clearly shows Sisko wrestling with his inner angels and demons (or Prophets and Pah-Wraiths) — this isn’t about the history he’ll make or unmake. This confession is for him, and that’s only solidified when he deletes the log as the final twist of the episode. It was a transgression, in so many ways: captains could delete logs and reshape history, and maybe… they could even live with that.
Succession : Ewan’s Euology
Most of Succession‘s big moments were arguments – or at least involved a lot of interjecting whenever someone else tried to say something lengthy. So, when Ewan Roy (James Cromwell) claims the stage during his little brother Logan’s (Brian Cox) big funeral near the end of the final season, and the Roy siblings actually sit and listen to the person who probably knew their father best tell his actual story… it’s a big deal!
Ewan has a captive audience, sure, but it’s a remarkably still moment for a show that always seemed hopped up on whatever Kendall’s drug of choice was that season. Ewan finally unpacks the truth of his secret shared origin story with Logan, in all its tragic horror; not so much an ‘immigrant makes good’ story as much as a ‘war orphan fights for survival and claws his way to the top.’ But if it was just Ewan getting in one last jab at Logan, this eulogy wouldn’t make this list; instead, Ewan seems genuinely heartbroken to see his baby brother go, but also heartbroken to acknowledge the monster he became in life.
The full text of Ewan’s eulogy to Logan can be found here, and you can watch the scene from “Church and State” in Succession season 4 on Max.
Barry : Sally’s Monologue
When a character scarier than Bill Hader’s Barry appears in the show Barry, it’s a thrill. No, really, it is. Sally (Sarah Goldberg) spends a lot of time vacillating in the early seasons between being a good person and just becoming a creature of ruthless ambition. Sally’s monologue towards the end of Season 2, is delivered to Barry, whose reaction in the hands of Hader is frightening in a millisecond. But the real star here is Goldberg, who makes Sally’s neuroses almost likable and her stakes admirable, until you realize she’s ranting about how much better she is at acting to a literal hitman.
Context is everything, of course: Sally has her own trauma that she deals with (or doesn’t deal with), and the way she seems to self-soothe is to let everything out verbally. Maybe she’s not that different from Rockwell’s White Lotus character – or anyone at the end of a long day or wasted an opportunity who just wants to… vent.
Andor: One Way Out
Okay, fine… this is… technically a rousing speech? It’s not that rousing. It’s more… suicidal, really. (And, ultimately, given Kino Loy’s fate…) Luthen Rael’s quietly furious speech in Andor also gets a lot of play; however, Kino’s monologue starts out slow and halting, and really not all that inspiring, until the dam finally breaks, and that’s what makes it special. Andy Serkis, no makeup, no CGI, just a normal dude, delivering this monologue.
It’s not about going out and claiming a victory; it’s about stealing a tiny shred of dignity back in a cold, unfeeling universe. Loy’s speech feels like an awakening, but it’s also an ending, a reminder that the show we’re watching is a mere prequel to one of Star Wars‘s biggest tragedies.
Interview with the Vampire: Lestat’s Origin Story
In the AMC+ Interview with the Vampire series, Lestat (Sam Reid) is a bit of a peacock. That may be underselling it. Louis (Jacob Anderson) is where most of the tender emotions come from… and Lestat’s retelling of the horror of his vampire origin story isn’t gentle, but it does begin to unpeel the many thick layers of …tacky Victorian wallpaper, almost, that Lestat has wrapped himself in. The origin he gives here is right from Anne Rice’s books; the new Interview with the Vampire can diverge from its given path in more than a few ways, but it stays true to its core characters.
Lestat doesn’t like to be abandoned is the verbatim message he imparts to Claudia and Louis by the end of the scene; the subtext, though, is a quiet despair at how he ended up as he is in the first place. Lestat tends to rejoice in his vampirism; this was another hint that his self-worship might, too, be bravado.
The Daily Show: Post-9/11 Zen
You can’t find Jon Stewart’s first Daily Show monologue after September 11th on YouTube, but you can find it on Comedy Central’s website, which is still a thing. This isn’t a ‘scene’ in the traditional sense, unless you follow me on a really esoteric explanation of what a scene really is. But what it is, is a shaken New Yorker trying to make everyone, including himself, try to feel normal after all that’s happened. Talk show hosts (especially Stewart) can get loud and bombastic most of the time, but he never does here (although he does start crying). He begins the monologue by asking “Are you okay?” — not to a wide audience, but to you, the viewer, and by the end, he offers hope for a brighter tomorrow, not just for you, but also for himself.
The Daily Show was meant to tape on 9/11; they went off the air until September 20th. From that gap, we got, I feel, a moment of vital catharsis. It may not have felt good, but as any of the characters above will attest, it’s such a pleasure to be able to share a feeling at all.
There are a lot of phenomenal monologues in TV history, and this list tries to focus on quieter, cathartic ones. Do you have any favorites along those lines? Let us know in the comments.
