In a time where sub-prime loans and creative financing have led to the highest rate of foreclosures in the past 20 years, it’s nice to see David Mamet’s slick and sleazy real estate agents on the boards again. These guys are just trying to make a buck, and that’s what makes these pithy characters so wickedly fascinating albeit morally detestable.
Pitting agent against agent in a Darwinist contest where survival of the biggest sale means a Cadillac and a hefty commission. Mamet exposes this dog-eat-dog business where cutthroat is a handshake and a knife in the back is just another day at the office. Based on his own experiences as a typist in a Chicago real estate office, Mamet scours the bottom of this cesspool muck coming up with leeches in bad suits looking for another poor sucker to feed off of.
Hilariously tragic, (Mamet intended for this play to be seen as a comedy), the desperate attempt to win at all costs is the flaw that enables these men to pursue their leads, and also brings about their inevitable downfall. A suspenseful ‘whodunit’ as well, the peddlers of two properties, Glengarry Highlands and Glen Ross Farms, (an amalgam for the title of the play), struggle to amass the highest quota on the dreaded "board" and keep their jobs.
Caught in the maelstrom of fight or flight frenzy is Shelly Levene, ironically dubbed "the Machine" for his former successful sales tactics. Down on his luck he begs the office manager, Williamson, for a second chance and a sneak peek at the best leads. Moss, a loud mouthed braggart full of hot air sets up Aaronow, a too weathered and now thread bare welcome mat of a push over in a sordid plan to take the leads and split with the cash. Oblivious to the plotting around him, smooth talking and big sales generating Roma offers a cavalier perspective on morality, banking on his predatory instincts which seem to send him laughing all the way to the bank. It all comes to a head when the leads are gone, the police are called, the office is ransacked and Levene is confident he has made the sale of the century. Hope does not spring eternal here; it is merely a squirt in the latrine as sales dissolve into wishful thinking and from exposure to the truth. The real thief is discovered, but it comes at the price of one man’s dignity.
The multiple award-winning LA cast in this production of "Glengarry Glen Ross" at the Egyptian Arena in Hollywood explodes with fierce energy, raw tension, punchy digs and excellent ensemble camaraderie. Directed by Misty Carlisle, the play doesn’t miss a beat and relies on a quick pace that serves Mamet’s phonetic machine gun firing in a steel mill language. Infamous for its greasy slang and hard boiled "F–king" expletives (there’s over 100 but I f–king lost count) the mastery of the language becomes so pervasive to be accepted as true and the mature cast lets the words flow without smacking the audience over the head with Mamet’s colorful colloquialism.
Stand out performances go to Nick Salamone (Ricky Roma) and Travis Michael Holder (Shelly Levene). Playing up Roma’s humor, Salamone makes his unforgettable monologue at the end of Act One all the snakier while oozing with contempt for his prey. Holder plays a broad range without ever stretching himself too thin. His character is the heart and perhaps, if there is any here, the soul of the play and Holder immediately gains empathy with his country gentlemen style complete with bumbling mannerisms and a shrill, effeminate begging that switches on a dime to boorish boasting. Holder surprises and keeps the suspense going all the way to the crucial scene. His character is the only one that evokes any sympathy from the audience, and Holder plays the regret of a wrecked man with such depth that it is impossible not to feel a sucker punch blow to the gut watching his performance.
Eric Giancoli (John Williamson) gives his role a serious brooding while Jan Munroe (George Aaronow) is as dry as a "Churchill Martini" which makes for raucous laughter with his frank straight-man delivery against Robert Hugh Starr’s (Dave Moss) energetic vents. Elvin Whitesides (James Lingk) is so pathetic as to be borderline caricature at times and Scott Asti (Baylen) rounds off the cast as the detective, offering little beyond the stereotype.
Often compared as a perverted version of Arthur Miller’s "Death of a Salesman", Mamet casts a harsh light on the American Dream and raises ethical questions that in the shadow of Enron, shady politicians, and an arrogant administration these guys look like philanthropic saints. Nevertheless they are the gatekeepers to what used to be a symbol of success and security, namely owning a home. Liars prosper. If that is the case, then the way to owning a piece of the dream is to be taken for a fool. A fool’s born every minute. And apparently, they all need a home.
"Glengarry Glen Ross" The Egyptian Arena Theatre
1625 N. Las Palmas Ave., Hollywood
Friday and Saturday at 8pm
Sunday at 3pm and 7pm.
Alternate cast performances on Thursday at 8pm
Playing through Nov. 18
For tickets call 323-969-4935
Photos by Elena Grassel
Very well-written and interesting to read review. makes me wanna to go see the play right now!