Tag Archives: failure

A GLORIOUS FAILURE

[A man in his twenties, he has a preppy look. Very eloquent and passionate, he talks with his hands]

Julian Pedrales was a Spanish architect, back in the eighteenth century.

The son of a peasant, he was destined to follow his father’s destiny… if it weren’t because his drawing skills convinced some local officials to patron him.

After finishing his studies at the Academy, he became an apprentice, then an assistant to a famous architect… whose work Julian would finish without getting credited for it.

Judging by his meager accomplishments, you’d think he wasn’t very ambitious. But that’s not true. He was… to a fault.

He was obsessed with building a massive cathedral, one with the biggest nave and the tallest steeple in Europe.

For over thirty years, he used his own money to travel to every court, to hustle for the favor of nobles and churchmen…
Unfortunately, the enormity of his project –so expensive, so technically challenging– discouraged anyone but Julian to attempt it.

Toward the end of his life, he retired to a small patch of land near his hometown. He built himself a house there, nothing too fancy…
He also built a small chapel on a hill nearby. It barely took him three months to complete it.

I visited the chapel years ago. It was already getting dark when I reached it. The façade was unassuming but beautiful in its simplicity.

To my surprise, there were some lit candles inside, the light reflecting on the stone walls, making it look like a shiny womb, warm and inviting.

I walked inside… sat on a bench. The place was tiny; the walls, bared…

I felt closer to god. And I’m not religious…

There, I realized that, occasionally, people triumph despite their own ambitions.


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 Copyright Abel Gonzalez 2017

OLD MODELS

[A handsome, twenty-something-year-old man with the perfect 5 o’clock shadow. He gives off an air of aloofness while seeming overly concerned with himself.]

I’m an actor…  but I make my living as a valet in a fancy Hollywood restaurant.

I know… I’m a walking cliché. 

Anyway, we get all types pulling up to the curb… the ones who always complain, the ones who never tip, the trophy wives in their SUVs, the  midlife crisis douches in their flashy cars.

But there’s one group in particular that I find very interesting. It’s always an older person, not terribly old… late fifties, early sixties… and they never look their age… tall, lean, elegant; you can tell they were very attractive when they were younger, a lot of them still are.

The weird part is they all drive cars from the seventies and eighties, and mostly Mercedes-Benz. But no normal Mercedes; they’ve got limited editions or high-end models with all the bells and whistles from the time, vanity plates, custom paint jobs… the works.

I could never put my finger on why they drove around what were practically collector’s cars or how they got them in the first place. 

Until the other day this older woman came to the restaurant in her ’79 Mercedes convertible. A beauty, her and the car. 

When I got behind the wheel to park it, I noticed a leather folder on the passenger seat. I couldn’t help but to take a peek.

It was the lady’s modeling portfolio from when she was younger. I wasn’t surprised… she had the look.

But then I realized the photos were the answer to the mystery.

All those attractive grandparents were models or actors back in the day. They must have hit it big in their early twenties and burned through their paychecks buying luxurious cars, thinking success would last forever.

I felt bad for the pretty old lady, for all of them… obsolete. Out of place and time, chewed up and spit out by Hollywood.

That thought scared the shit out of me…

So much so I’m no longer buying that Porsche when I get my big break.


Are you an actor or director interested in using this monologue? Contact us in ABOUT MONOLOGY!

 Copyright Abel Gonzalez 2016