I may be exaggerating just a *tad* here, I mean it’s not like I’ve actually gone through the archives of every movie I’ve ever seen, selected my favorite monologues, lined them up on a spreadsheet, done a thorough artistic analysis, and hand-picked the ones that offer the greatest balance of drama, etherealism, and whimsy. I don’t have time for that shit. But when my husband and I sat the kids down for another entertaining viewing of Austin Powers a few weeks ago, my further-developed writers brain latched onto Dr. Evil’s monologue like zip ties on a murder victim – it was just so good.
I imagine I probably enjoyed the dialogue the last time I saw the movie maybe 5 or so years ago, but I didn’t understand the craft that is excellent writing at the time. Well, I still don’t really, but I’m much better at spotting excellence than I was, especially when it comes to low-brow comedy from ex-SNL stars.
The writing is just fantastic – it flows like poetry but fits together logically with just enough whimsy to make you pause the movie every few seconds out of fear that you missed some hilarious anecdotal joke hidden away in the spaces between the words. And the delivery is just fantastic. I don’t think anyone could have brought those lines of dialogue alive like Mike Myers did. I’d like to think he did the writing as well, but I don’t really know and I’m too lazy to look it up (we have no other excuses in the Internet age), but what a combo!
Anyways, here it is in all its glory for your enjoyment. Bask in the perfect architecture built with these words – both melancholy and gut-busting at the same time. And get off your ass and look up the YouTube video (cuz God knows I’m not gonna do it for you)! Get the full experience, even if you’ve seen it before.
One of my personal life goals is to make a movie someday. I can only hope that I can achieve this kind of art when that day comes. For anyone who thinks comedy is a lesser art, this is all the proof you need; it takes one hell of a brain to come up with something this good!
Dr. Evil: The details of my life are quite inconsequential…Very well, where do I begin? My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize, he would drink, he would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Some times he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy, the sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical: summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we’d make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds, pretty standard really. At the age of 12 I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen, a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum, it’s breathtaking, I suggest you try it.