The dramatic monologue in most television shows or movies often occurs in a moment of tension and pressure, during which a character makes an emotional announcement or confession. Suddenly the main character’s inner thoughts, feelings, wishes, and grievances are revealed to an often unexpected listener. These monologues catch the audience’s attention, display a character’s depth and drive the plot forward. The emotion of these scenes can be captivating, and they sometimes become cultural reference points.
For instance, in Season 3, Episode 10 of the popular drama series “The Bear”, “Forever”, the character Carmy (played by Jeremy Allen White) confronts an old boss and culinary teacher, David Fields (played by Joel McHale). In a disjointed and disorganized confrontation, Carmy tells Fields about how his abusive ways have caused him anxiety and led him to abandon people in his life. It is clear that Carmy has not recovered from Field’s emotional torment. In response, Fields calmly tells Carmy that he should be thankful because he is now an “excellent” chef. While Carmy likely expected relief and even kindness from his abusive teacher, he was left speechless and still tormented.
Another possible outcome of such confessions is evident in Season 6, Episode 6 of the drama series “This Is Us”, “Our Little Island Girl: Part Two”, the character Beth (played by Susan Kelechi Watson) confronts her old dance teacher about how his lack of support crushed her dreams. She also makes sure to point out how her patience has paid off, and how she has grown past these insecurities to become a better teacher. She will not make the same mistake as him. Then she hangs up. We have no idea how he responds to this.
It’s common for clients in my private practice to express an urge to deliver such a speech. Sometimes, they want to confront a parent who missed the mark or was abusive. They want their parents to witness their pain and sometimes their growth. Other clients have an urge to bombard a friend, partner or family member with years of grievances and disappointments. While others are stuck on a single individual and instance; a pivotal moment in their lives they want to highlight. Despite the common motivation of “I just want them to know,” the urge to verbalize our innermost feelings, and expose our vulnerability in such a way, is undoubtedly driven by some hope. Clients want to end their suffering and move on from painful experiences with a sense of control and conclusion. They also hope that the listener will express remorse, attempt some type of atonement or express validation for the pain. Unfortunately, none of that is guaranteed, and the risk of disappointment is high because it relies on the actions of another.
In TV dramas, monologues are used to connect with the audience and advance the storyline. The next scene depends on the recipient’s response to the monologue: will they be understanding, compassionate, or even remorseful? Or will they react defensively, justifying their actions or denying the event all together? Will the main character dig in their heels, recoil, or finally move on, regardless?
In reality, dramatic expressions are risky, and the results are often now what we expect, or want. Despite best intentions and preparation, the raw emotional expression, focus on past events, and focus on one’s single experience can come across as cathartic venting. Venting is a coping strategy; something we use to reduce stress. It is not about processing emotions, making meaning, finding resolution or repair. The impact of venting (whether it successfully decreases stress or not) depends on the listener. A trusted, empathetic listener will hold space for emotions in a nonjudgmental manner [1]. However, a monologue can easily be heard as a series of accusations without context and nuance. Under such circumstances, it’s understandable that the recipient (parent, partner, ex-teacher…) becomes defensive, resulting in more stress for everyone involved. Venting focused on expressing frustration is actually associated with more anger, not inner peace [2].
While dramatic monologues depicted in works of fiction illustrate the momentary relief of strong emotions, it actually increases negative emotions. I therefore caution my clients against such verbal tirades and invite them to pause and reflect on their hopes for such an interaction. We take the time to unpack their memories and experiences to reveal the unmet needs and unresolved feelings that remain. Often, sitting with feelings of anger, sadness, and even fear makes them more manageable. Regularly, we land on feelings of grief, and the choice of compassion, and forgiveness.
Of course, I can’t say that revelatory monologues are never effective. The content, delivery, timing, and especially the state of mind of the listener play crucial roles in the outcome. However, putting our wellbeing and personal growth in the hand of another person’s reaction is high risk, and I don’t recommend it. This strategy gives a lot of power to the listener. Instead, we are much more likely to come to terms with our past and make meaning when we take charge of the narrative ourselves.
Learn more about the benefits of journaling and tips to start a journaling practice.
References
[1] Bodie, G. D., Vickery, A. J., Cannava, K., & Jones, S. M. (2015). The Role of “Active Listening” in Informal Helping Conversations: Impact on Perceptions of Listener Helpfulness, Sensitivity, and Supportiveness and Discloser Emotional Improvement. Western Journal of Communication, 79(2), 151–173. https://doi.org/10.1080/10570314.2014.943429
[2] Olatunji, B.O., Lohr, J. M., & Bushman, B.J. (2007). The pseudopsychology of venting in the treatment of anger: Implications and alternatives for mental health practice. In T. A. Cavell & K. T. Malcolm (Eds.), Anger, Aggression and Intervention