Based on my limited exposure, the moment writings are released into the world, they develop independent trajectories. If this holds true for mediocre writers, it surely applies to novelists, poets, and dramatists as well.
David Mamet’s 1983 play that won the Pulitzer Prize Glengarry Glen Ross — A play about cannibalistic Willy Lomans — is experiencing its third Broadway revival this century. Through the years, it has evolved from a lengthy, unsettling look into the world of low-reputation real estate agents grappling with moral decay to a confrontational depiction of typical American manhood.
Glengarry Glen Ross Is concise yet harsh, sharply humorous, and somber. The play isn’t a complete feast; rather, it’s akin to a turkey leg—filled with both sustenance and tough bits.
I wonder if Mamet realized he was crafting something prescient back then. In the 2020s, the leader of the United States turned out to be someone who spews nonsense while wearing poorly fitting suits and berates anyone brave enough to speak up. Was this meant as a warning? Did people pay attention or just laugh it off?
As I revisited the star-filled reboot of Glengarry Glenn Ross The other evening, I pondered whether Mamet genuinely grasped his own play or if he penned it during an inspired trance. While he acknowledges that his characters are despicable cowards to some extent, he is simultaneously captivated by these bastards. At least, this was true for the thirty-something Mamet who wrote. Glengarry Glen Ross was likely someone who was readily awed by superficial demonstrations of masculinity, and his works mirror his obsession with feeble attempts at asserting dominance among tender-talking alpha males.
Mamet must have known about the ancient Latin saying: Homo homini lupus — Man is wolf to man. Still, it seems he thinks wolves are pretty neat.
This conflict between critique and allure salvages Glengarry Glen Ross From turning preachy or overly sentimental. These despicable individuals deserve their fate, including shlubby, desperate, middle-aged Shelley 'The Machine' Levene. He has a dual nature: one side pleads, whimpers, and weeps; the other grins broadly, with teeth gleaming as you put pen to paper. However, the production reaches its peak excitement during scenes where Roma, Moss, and Williamson viciously clash, since even emotional aggression can be thrilling.
Mamet understood a fundamental fact about men—they're unhappy. In the '80s, he alerted us to what was unfolding, whether consciously or not. At the same time, he subtly applauds his con artists. To someone as bookish as a playwright, they serve as contemporary heroes. Hard labor is seen as masculine duty, a degrading struggle. Mamet finds himself attracted to that far-right mindset much like a child irresistibly drawn to sticking a fork into an electrical outlet.
Similar to many Baby Boomers, perhaps Mamet was influenced by Reagan's cheerful yet cutthroat upper-class economic approach during an evening of writing? It's disheartening to see how minimal progress America has made; getting third place now means you're dismissed. The sole advantage? Brutality. Humans treat each other with callousness.
At this very moment, throughout each agonizing day, countless lonely individuals engage in bitter arguments on various troubled social networking sites. For them, this serves as both their primary way of dealing with issues and an outlet for expressing pent-up frustration through aggressive remarks.
The America of Glengarry Glen Ross It lacks presence of women and children entirely; they remain beyond the stage, inhabiting an alternate realm. The environment here knows neither art nor happiness. Instead, it's a somber cellar filled with dour, celibate men discussing their respective fates, alternately lamenting and boasting about them. This portrayal of manhood as an unending losing game is such a bleak concept that one can only fancy Sisyphus content he isn’t engaged in property sales.
In "Glengarry Glen Ross," what are Mamet's salespeople peddling? They're pushing swampland, christened with picturesque monikers such as Glengarry Highlands and Glen Ross Farms. Essentially, they're hawking discounted dreams at inflated prices to those eager to climb the ladder. This business operates purely through sheer volume; securing an abundance of potential clients is key. The strategy revolves around this approach. As the adage attributed to Arnold Palmer goes, “The more I practice, the luckier I get.” For them, acquiring new 'leads'—fresh targets—is essential since success hinges entirely on chance. Each lead represents either a golden opportunity to seize or someone to dismiss outright.
Following an extended run of losses, Levene storms into the office during Act Two, yelling about a major heist. He had managed to sell out. ight Units from Mountain View amounting to eighty-two thousand dollars. The fellow is still breathing and wishes to boast. But how exactly did he accomplish this? He narrates the tale — yada yada yada — yet, it isn’t really important since his role demands zero expertise. His work revolves around slot machines; all he does is speak while the wheels rotate.
To truly get Glengarry Glenn Ross , be sure to dedicate attention to the third scene in the opening act; this one is the final two-hander among three designed to pave the way for the intense second act. In each scenario, men attempt to manipulate other men into performing actions contrary to their own desires—whether through sales tactics, persuasion, or even coercion. These encounters take place at a dilapidated Chinese restaurant located just opposite their cluttered offices, where they unwind over drinks and food, discussing work-related matters and voicing complaints. This run-down establishment serves as about the only sanctuary they can find amidst their chaotic lives.
In the initial scene, we discover that Levene is downcast—he’s in act one. The scenario involves a competition among salespeople with the grand prize being a new car, yet his name doesn't appear on the leader board at all. Desperate, he pleads with Williamson, the office manager, for access to the lucrative client lists, only to have them held out of reach as bait without fulfillment. Moving into the next part, scenes featuring two colleagues, Moss and Aaronow, reveal their scheme—they plan to burglarize the office to get hold of those valuable customer contacts. While Moss takes charge formulating this strategy, Aaronow merely observes before getting reluctantly drawn into participation regardless of his personal inclination.
Next, we encounter Ricky Roma, who is described as a closer. Right now, he’s at the peak of his game. Typically, this character would be portrayed as an assertive leading man, someone suave and attractive. However, in this particular version, that isn’t quite the case. Despite how he’s characterized, Roma remains triumphant; winning comes naturally to him. His objective is clear: cruising through Chicago in his brand-new Cadillac, seeking out easy targets.
Roma wants you to think that his success comes from knowing exactly where and when to be present. It's straightforward: capitalism operates like a casino. There are only two outcomes—winning or losing; being penniless or prosperous. You're either youthful, similar to Roma, or aging, akin to Levene. When things go well, you feel invincible as long as luck favors you. However, just like Levene, once failure strikes, it feels inevitable, much like gravity. Currently, Roma is profiting handsomely; he stands atop the world...for now. Fortune seems to favor him, yet one day this streak will end. No one escapes the house's edge indefinitely.
However, Roma might concern himself with this issue on some future date, or perhaps his downfall will come as an alarming shock. He believes he surpasses his colleagues, yet he is merely another individual driven by excessive hormones—a traitor from every angle. These men have no clue how to distinguish reality from deception. Even Roma’s feelings towards Shelley are superficial.
Upon introducing Roma, he cannot fathom his luck: a potential target named James Lingk has conveniently materialized in his vicinity. There was no need for him to make a cold call or approach them directly. Instead, he enjoyed a drink during work hours with Mr. Lingk now within reach. abracadabra a fragile cuck.
Lingk feels insecure and isolated. He carries within him a mass of simmering grievances that become captivated right away by Roma’s well-rehearsed sales spiel, which acts like an unrestrained plea concerning sexuality, intuition, and daring gambles. Although his dialogue seems impromptu and assured, Roma is essentially buying yet another scratch card; perhaps this time he will win big, or possibly not.
In Mamet's world, his characters embody racism, which isn't hard to understand since bigotry was prevalent back then and continues today. One of the less shocking aspects of our country is how many individuals fear their fellow humans. Homophobic remarks also weave through Mamet's conversations. These men face threats from virtually everyone around them. Forty years ago when this play debuted, white males dominated American society—a verifiable truth. Now we fast forward to present times where despite increasing challenges posed by various competitors including women and minorities, white men remain dominant across financial resources, political influence, legal systems, as well as positions like those held by judges, police officers, and lawmakers. However, such changes make some folks very uneasy; truly terrifying stuff for certain quarters.
The salesmen in Glengarry Glen Ros They do not wish to compete with Indian individuals or gay men or other White males, so they act hostile. Certain men mistake hostility for strength. Browse any social media platform; these types of guys are readily identifiable. They could be part of your family, your community members. There’s no need to seek them out at the Chinese restaurant down the road.
This post originally appeared on Medium It has been revised and republished with the author’s approval. Explore more of John DeVore's writings. on Medium .