The Good Lead on Glengarry Glen Ross

Russell Hodgkinson and Charles Leggett. Photo by Chris Bennion.

"First prize is a Cadillac. Second prize is steak knives. Third prize? You're fired." That iconic line from David Mamet's Glengarry Glen Ross is one of the most easily recalled by those of us who've seen the all-star film version. This line is completely absent from the play, of course, as it belongs to Blake, a character written into the film by Mamet for Alec Baldwin. For those who've only seen the film, it is at first difficult to imagine it without Baldwin's character. Blake is a brusque, dominating figure whose jarring speech to the salesmen at the beginning of the film startles first-time viewers into understanding they're in for something a little different.

Happily, my little worry about no Blake was for naught. Moments after the curtain is drawn, Blake never existed.

For the uninitiated, Glengarry Glen Ross (Seattle Repertory Theatre; runs through the 28th; tickets $15-$59) is the story of four inglorious Chicago real estate agents driven to desperate acts in an attempt to keep their jobs.

As the audience moves about, finding their seats or standing in the aisle chatting, the curtain is wide open, an impressive set visible to all. It's a slightly run-down office mere feet from the El train. File cabinets, cardboard boxes, and four nondescript desks make up the main floor, and metal stairs lead up to a private office where a man in a necktie and suspenders pokes around, sifting through papers and smoking a cigarette. He's a mere curiosity at first, until the house lights begin to slowly come down and people rush to take their seats. Our man walks down the stairs, casually flipping lights off as he moves through the office. The audience finally becomes silent. He dons his jacket and puffs on his cigarette a few more times before opening the front door, hitting the final light switch, and walking out of sight. And with the thud of the door closing behind him, the theatre goes black. 

Before we know it, the stage lights come up and suddenly the office is gone--we're in a Chinese restaurant with plush red booths lining the wall and two shabby-looking men in neckties engaged in conversation. It's a neat trick which draws a huge applause. And now the real fun begins as salesmen Shelly Levene, Dave Moss, George Aaronow, and smooth-talking Ricky Roma all fight to stay on the board and keep their jobs.

Glengarry Glen Ross is all about dialogue. The entire play is thick with breakneck, profanity-laden exchanges between men who thrive on outsmarting and out-talking the other guy. Each dust-up is a clash of egos, a measuring of cocks. The only exception being Aaronow, who seems meek and impotent compared to his colleagues.

Competition aside, the salesmen don't really have any beef with each other. It's the ass-kissing office manager, John Williamson, everyone has a problem with. The guy holding the good leads. The one who's never worked the street like the rest of them. And they don't mind telling him how they feel about him. "You really are a shithead," Levene says, smiling, after Roma has already verbally handed his ass to him.

As graphic as the language is, one hardly notices that aspect of it. The words themselves become secondary to the overall poetry of it all. Sure, there are a lot of F-bombs and the like, but it's the rhythm, the beat, the stylish repetition of the language throughout that makes this play such an experience.

As someone who'd seen the film before but not the play, it was impossible not to compare the two, but that's part of the fun. Obviously, the main difference is that the film is full of big-time stars--Alec Baldwin, Jack Lemmon, Alan Arkin, Ed Harris, Al Pacino, Kevin Spacey--all legends of the big screen. The character of Shelly Levene, an aging, once-successful man, seemed to me to be the only similarly-acted part. Though, it'd be hard not to channel Jack Lemmon's amazing portrayal of Levene. That said, I do not, in any way, mean to diminish the phenomenal job done by John Aylward.

If you haven't seen the film, rent it. It's great. The Wilson Milam-directed play, however, is better (SunBreak interview with Milam here). Throwing out the movie stars for a talented local cast makes it all the more believable and witnessing Mamet's cadenced, colorful wordplay firsthand is truly thrilling.